With a Twist (2 page)

“What is it
you want to tell me,
cherie
?”

Natalie slid into the chair opposite Vivi, glass of red wine in hand. As was their tradition after Vivi’s closed for the night, they sat down at one of the bistro tables to unwind. Sometimes Vivi’s fiancé, Anthony, walked across the street from his restaurant to join them. Despite a cool, standoffish attitude toward each other when they first met, Natalie and Anthony had warmed to each other. Even so, Natalie sometimes wished Anthony wouldn’t stop by. She so rarely got Vivi to herself these days, what with Vivi spending large chunks of time with Anthony’s family.

Natalie took a small sip of wine. “This is hard to say.”

“Since when do you have a hard time saying anything?” Vivi teased.

Natalie cracked a small smile. “Touché.”

“Tell me.”

“I’m not happy here. In Bensonhurst.”

Vivi’s face fell. “Oh.”

“I understand why you chose this locale for Vivi’s, and I understand why you love it here. It has the feel of a small village, like where you grew up in Lyon. But I was raised in Paris, Vivi. I feel more at home in a cosmopolitan atmosphere. I miss living in the city.” Natalie took another sip of wine. “Also, I’m single. There’s nothing for me to do here on my nights off.”

“But you go into Manhattan sometimes,” Vivi pointed out.

“During the day. But sometimes I want to go out at night, and there’s nowhere to go here. No clubs, no galleries, no theaters . . . You know what a long subway ride it is between here and the city. If I go into Manhattan at night, then I have to worry about what train to take back, so I won’t be alone on the subway at some ungodly hour.” God, how she missed the days when she was able to take cabs everywhere. The subway . . . she shuddered inwardly. “I’m more social than you. And now that you have Anthony . . .”

Vivi looked upset. “Do you think I’m neglecting you? You know you can always spend time with us.”

Natalie reached across the table for her sister’s hand. “I know. But I don’t like being the third wheel. Especially now that you’re engaged.”

“You’re being ridiculous!” Vivi scoffed. “You’re my sister! You could never be a third wheel! And I need you to help me plan my wedding!”

“I will. But you’re a homebody, Vivi. You and Anthony are happy to stay in and cook together on your nights off, and that’s wonderful. But I need to be out doing things. You know that.” She began to tear up. “I miss Manhattan. I miss the energy and all the different things to do there.” She took a fortifying sip of wine. “I’ve decided to move back into the city.”

“Natalie.” Vivi sounded worried. “You’re living here in Bensonhurst because you can’t afford to live in the city, remember?”

“Ah, but I can. Our guardian angel Bernard Rousseau has come through again.”

Vivi looked distressed. “You didn’t ask him for a loan so you could afford an apartment, did you?”

“Of course not,” Natalie replied crossly. “Honestly, how could you think that?”

“It’s just—your history—”

“I’m well aware of my history, and as you know, I now have control of that area of my life, thank you very much.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“It’s all right.” Natalie brightened. “Bernard is going back to Paris.”

“Yes, I know that. His tenure at the UN is done.”

“But he wants to hold on to his apartment, and he doesn’t want to rent it to strangers. So he’s letting me live in it!” Natalie laughed delightedly. “Isn’t that fantastic?”

Vivi shook her head, chuckling. “Only you could manage to wind up living rent free in a luxurious apartment on the Upper East Side. That’s very, very generous of him.”

“Oh, not rent free. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t pay him at least a small amount each month. At first he wouldn’t hear of it. But finally I wore him down, and he agreed.” Natalie was brimming with happiness. “I still can’t quite believe my luck. Papa must be watching out for me from heaven.”

“Clearly.” Vivi’s expression turned cautious. “What do you plan to do for work?”

“Well, after working here with you, I’ve decided I’d really like to manage a restaurant—one that’s slightly more upscale.”

The realization had surprised Natalie more than it had Vivi. After being a civil servant in France, she’d assumed it was a field she’d move back into eventually. But working at the bistro, she found she had a real talent for organization and customer service.

“If only you’d open a more upscale French restaurant in the city the way I’ve been suggesting,” Natalie lamented with a heavy sigh. “With you cooking and me running the front of the house? You know it would be a smashing success.”

“Natalie, I’m very happy here. You know that. I’m in the right place with the right clientele.”

“I know, I know.”

Vivi took a sip of wine. “All right, so you’ve got your living quarters sorted out, and you know what you want to do. Now comes the important question.”

“Oui?”

“What if you can’t find a managing position in a restaurant in the city right away?”

“Oh, I’m sure I will,” Natalie replied confidently.

“You don’t know that.”

Natalie frowned. “Well, I do have a small amount saved, you know. I could live off that for a while.”

“A small amount? How much?”

“About a thousand dollars.”

Vivi’s mouth fell open. “That’s nothing! You know that’s nothing! It’ll run out in no time, and then what?”

Natalie tensed. “Why don’t you have any faith in me?”

“It’s not a matter of faith, it’s a matter of reality! I don’t want you to run through your money and get back in a cycle of credit card spending and—”

Natalie scowled at her. “I only have one credit card to be used only in case of emergency, remember? You cut up all the others.”

Vivi still looked distressed. “Please, don’t move into the city until you have another job lined up to bring in money while you look for your dream job. I won’t be able to rest otherwise. Please.”

“Vivi.” Natalie knew her sister was making a good point, but the thought of spending more time in Bensonhurst when there was a gorgeous apartment just waiting for her on the Upper East Side was torture.

“Please, Natalie.”

Natalie hesitated. “I’ll think about it.”

Vivi sighed. “You’re so stubborn. So stubborn.”

“Ha! Takes one to know one!”

“We can both thank Papa for that trait.” Vivi looked sad. “I’ll miss you working here. It won’t feel right.”

“You’re always telling me what a pain in the neck I am.”

“Only sometimes.” Vivi’s gaze turned sly. “Quinn O’Brien is going to be very upset about this.”

“I guess he’ll just have to find a new waitress to torment,” Natalie replied huffily.

“He lives in Manhattan, you know.”

Natalie raised an eyebrow. “So—?”

Vivi shrugged. “Nothing. I just thought it was an interesting fact, that’s all.”

“Millions of people live in the city. My odds of running into him are very small, thank God.”

“When you get your dream job, I’m going to tell him where you’re working.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“So you promise you’ll keep working here until you find a job to tide you over, at least for now?”

“Yes.”

She knew it was the smart thing to do, the sane thing. But that didn’t mean she had to like it.

“Why the long
face?”

Quinn had been coming to Vivi’s long enough that he could tell when Vivi was upset. Natalie wasn’t there today, which disappointed him; he was looking forward to getting her to glare at him before storming off.

Vivi smiled sadly. “It’s nothing.”

“Gimme a break. What’s going on?”

“Natalie gave notice. She’s moving back into Manhattan and is going to look for a restaurant job there. She says there’s nothing for her here in Bensonhurst.”

Quinn said nothing as his heart did a slow free fall down to his feet. No more Natalie at Vivi’s. No more teasing.

“When is she leaving?” he made himself ask, doing his best to hide his disappointment.

“As soon as she finds a job.” Vivi sighed. “She wants to manage a restaurant.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see that. Have you noticed that her motto seems to be ‘The customer is always wrong’? She still thinks she’s in Paris, where it’s the waitstaff’s duty to insult the customer.”

Vivi laughed. “Yet no one seems to mind. It makes them feel like they’re having an authentic French experience.” She paused. “I actually think she’d be a very good manager.”

“Yeah, with the masochists.”

“She’s very organized, and she does treat the other members of the staff here with respect. She’s a good waitress. Management is a logical step forward.”

“So why are you so worried?”

Vivi tapped the side of her head. “Because sometimes, she just doesn’t think! She thinks a job will magically appear for her.”

“Does she have any leads?”

“Anthony’s given her a few. She’s put some calls in.”

“Hmm.”

“She’s already got a place to live.”

“Really.” Quinn was surprised.

“You know our family friend, Bernard Rousseau?”

Quinn frowned. “Yes.”

He couldn’t stand the guy. He was one degree too smooth—and whenever he was at Vivi’s, Natalie fawned over him like he was the king of France. Still, from what Quinn had heard through Anthony, the guy had saved Vivi from some kind of financial disaster, so he couldn’t be all bad.

“Well,” Vivi continued, “he’s going back to Paris, but he wants to keep his apartment in the city. Guess who’s going to live in it?”

“Natalie.” Figured. She’d always struck him as one of those people who was saved by the bell at the last minute.

“You should see it!”

“Don’t need to,” Quinn grumbled. “I can imagine it.”

Probably some splendid twelve-roomer on the Upper East Side. Quinn himself still lived in Hell’s Kitchen, the neighborhood where he was raised. He saw no point in leaving. He loved it there. It was near his family, and he could walk to work. His apartment was no palace (one bedroom, small bath, kitchen, and living room), but since he was hardly ever home, he didn’t need much more. He tried to imagine Natalie at his place and suppressed a snort. She’d probably clean it first. More likely hire someone to clean it. Then she’d refuse to stay.

“When’s her last day?” Quinn asked.

“I don’t know. I begged her please not to move into the city until she finds a job just to bring in money.”

Quinn paused thoughtfully. “You know, I could help her out on the interim job front.”

Vivi’s eyes lit up. “How?”

“I’ve told you my folks own an Irish pub in the city, right?”

Vivi nodded.

“Well, my sister Maggie, who’s been waitressing there for a while now, is going to massage school. My folks need a new waitress. I’m sure if I recommended Natalie, they’d hire her.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Vivi nudged him gently in the ribs. “And that way you’d still get to see her, eh?”

“Hadn’t thought of that.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Quinn ducked his head sheepishly.

“Quinn, why don’t you ask her out? I don’t understand.”

Vivi asked him this at least once a month. He always replied with the same answer: “I’m too busy. Coming in here to flirt with her is about as much as I can handle.” He said it again, except this time, for some inexplicable reason, he found himself adding, “Besides, I’m sure she’d turn me down.” Why the hell had he said that? He wasn’t someone who liked to cop to insecurity, and for all he knew, Vivi would turn around and tell Natalie, and then she’d really lord it over him.

“No, she wouldn’t.”

“Don’t tell her I said that about my being sure she’d turn me down.”

“I would never.”

“So, should I float the idea of working in my folks’ pub by her? Or do you think she’d snort and walk away?”

“Tell her about it, and if she dismisses it, I’ll threaten her. I’m sure she won’t. It’ll be a way for her to see you all the time, too.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’ll really sell her on the idea,” he joked. “When’s her next shift?”

“Dinner tomorrow.”

“I’ll be here if nothing comes up at the paper.”

Vivi patted his shoulder. “Good. Now, what can I get you?”