CHAPTER EIGHT

Adán

I don't feel like being here today. But my father says I have to be. As heir to all his companies, my presence is required. Preparations for the soirée or gala, whatever my dad wishes to call it, have been underway for the last 72 hours. Decorations are being handled by an event planner. Catering, of course, will be tended by the club's house chef. A date has been set and the invitations were sent out this morning. Two days from now, I will be co-hosting one of the largest events we've ever held.

"What do you think?" Mama asks while clapping her hands and motioning to the ballroom.

"Woodland themed?" I look at the different bush-plants, the silk-draped canopies, and the several woodland animal fixtures. Butterflies, flower crowns, fawns and other animals that remind me of Bambi. Twenty round tables dressed with white cloths each have a small tree stump-like vase with faux wild flowers. Where is this theme headed?

"Everyone will be assigned a woodland animal mask," Mama explains, leading me to the front table, filled with masks. "I was so disappointed when the company told me they do not have any new fox masks at this time. There are only two."

"Why woodland themed?" I ask, not fully understanding the concept.

"Because it's very mystifying," the coordinator, Lidia, replies as she approaches. "Tu padre te quiere presentarse como heredero de la propiedad. This will have everyone calm and receptive."

"Do you mean to say you do not think people will accept me as new owner?"

Lidia blanches at my words, and she knows she's said insinuative. Her company has worked with my family for years. I was a young boy when my mother hired her to help plan the opening of the club.

"Hijo," my mother begins to say, but I cut her off.

"You heard her," I say, turning and walking towards the kitchens.

As I open the doors, I nearly knock over one of the waitresses. Luckily, she is empty handed and I am able to catch her before she falls to the ground.

"Lo siento mucho," she says, her cheeks completely flushed. "No estaba prestando atención."

The fact that she is trying to take the blame astounds me. And her accent tells me she is one of the new employees. Not from around here.

"Completely my fault," I say in English, shaking my head.

"You speak English too?" she asks with a relieved smile. "I mean, yeah. Of course you do. It's a requirement, apparently."

She thinks I work here. I'm tempted to let her believe that, but then I decide against it.

"It's required, yes. My father owns the club."

"Oh," she stares up at me with wide brown eyes. I then realize that I still have my arm around her waist.

"Sorry," I say, gently dropping my hand to my side. "You're new?"

"I am," she replies, nodding as she takes a step back. "I'm Elena Estrada."

"Adán Mendez," we shake hands when I notice other employees glancing our way.

"I should let you get back to your training. It was nice meeting you, Elena."

Elena nods, her cheeks still flushed. I step around her and walk through the kitchen to one of the other exits. Elena Estrada. She must be Hispanic. Her flustered expression never leaves my mind as I walk towards the parking lot.

As I reach my car, my key ready to open the door, I stop. Something about that girl, woman, intrigues me. I've hardly spoken to her. I look over my shoulder to the door I've just come from. It's near the dumpster and I realize I'm in the employee parking lot. I seem to be doing that lately. Parking in the lot with the employees to avoid the club members. I shove my key back into my pocket and go back to the entrance.

My reentry is not unnoticed, but I ignore the looks. There are several other young women, most of them have been working here a while and I am familiar with their faces. I go back out to the ballroom and I see Joel, along with the head waiter, Armando, are teaching Elena how to pour wine.

She is genuinely listening and a fast learner. I watch from a distance and see that she masters the technique shown. Her brown hair is pulled back in a ponytail, but it's long enough to rest on her shoulder. She's slender, but curvy and lusciously tan. Naturally tanned. It's refreshing. The black vest over her white shirt is very flattering.

Joel is seated at one of the tables, pretending to be a guest. Armando tells Elena to practice again.

"He is an American club member," he explains, adjusting the bowtie at Elena's neck. "So, you must speak to him in English. And remember to smile, like you have been since I met you."

Elena nods and walks a few feet away. She holds a tray of glasses, at head-height, and with perfect balance. I'm quite impressed. When she turns around, she's wearing the brightest, most friendly smile I've seen anyone have.

"Good evening, Mr. Santiago," she says, bringing the tray to chest-height. "I hope you are having a pleasant time. Shall I refill your glass, or would you prefer something from the drinks menu?"

Joel chuckles, "Armando," he says, rising from the chair. "I don't think she needs to work on social skills."

"No arguments there," Armando replies, nodding with approval. "How was your interview with the boss?"

Elena smiles and sets the tray on the table.

"He was very adamant thatI knew how all positions are important," she explains, folding her hands behind her back. "Told me to make friends with the other employees, and if I needed anything to let him or his assistants know."

"And what do you think of him?" Joel asks, lowering his voice.

"He's intelligent, outspoken an-" Elena speaks without missing a beat, but Armand stops her.

"Be honest," he says, crossing his arms. "Don't tell us what you've heard. What do you think of him?"

Elena sighs and shakes her head. "I've only met him once. I was going to say my impression of him. Also, I don't think it's fair for you to ask me to gossip about your boss. If this is part of a test, you won't get anything but honesty from me. I'll go tell Carla that you're ready for her."

Elena picks up the tray and walks away with a bit of sass. I like that. She handled herself well. I take the opportunity to approach the two nutheads. Joel has not been working here long, but he escalated rather quickly. He's one of five assistants. Armand has been with my father from the start. He's older and should know better.

"Training, I see," I say, stopping next to the table. "New waitress?"

"Adán," Joel says, touching his jacket with surprise. "Pensé que te habías ido."

"I was going to, but decided to linger. She looked rather pissed leaving. What was that about? Is she finding the work too difficult?"

"On the contrary," Armando clears his throat. "Ella ha sido la mejor hasta ahora."

"Then why did she leave in a huff?"

The two men exchange a look, neither wanting to reveal the reason. I let it slide and head in the same direction Elena went. I pass the table of masks and see the two fox masks. I can tell they are made as a pair. Both masks are black. The male version is only half a face, a bit like Phantom of the Opera. The female version is delicate, with silver decals. Nothing extraordinary, but lovely all the same.

For some reason, the thought of Elena wearing this mask pops into my head. I don't know why, but she would look exquisite. And then I'm rushing to catch up with the girl. Masks in hand. Instead of going into the kitchens, I run for the main lobby. Something tells me Elena doesn't have a car in the employee lot yet.

I find her headed out the front entrance with another waitress. She is not wearing the uniform anymore. Now she is wearing blue, ripped-jeans, a wine-colored blouse. And she appears taller all of a sudden. I suppose she is wearing heels now. I am almost upon her when someone calls out to me. I sigh and turn to see my mother. She doesn't appear angry with me, so I wonder what she wants.

"You're in quite a hurry," she says, looking towards the doorway. "I thought you left already."

"I came back," I reply, shrugging. "Did you need something?"

"I just wondered if you might pick up your sister for the gala. She told me she would be coming with your cousin, but I don't trust him with her."

"Gerardo would never do anything to hurt her."

"And if he were?"

I sigh, because both my mother and I do not know for sure what Gerardo might do. But I do have a feeling he would not do anything to Andrea. However, it's true that one should never be too careful.

"Alright," I say, nodding. "I will bring her to and from her apartment. Was there anything else?"

"No," my mother smiles and shakes her head. "I'll see you tonight."

I kiss her cheek, and I realize I still have the masks. Mama doesn't say anything. She just smiles and walks towards my father's office. She must want to go over some final details with him. I turn to look for Elena, but she's already gone. Dammit.