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Authors: Julia Amante

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BOOK: Evenings at the Argentine Club
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“You don’t mind if I encourage him a bit, do you?” Lucia sat across from her. “We’d finally be related by marriage.”

“No, I don’t mind,” Jaqueline sighed. “I suppose she has to get married someday.”

“Of course,” Lucia looked at her as if she had said something ridiculous. “I thought you
wanted
her to get married. You’re always telling me you’re worried no man will ever be interested in her because of the way she
dresses and how little she cares about her appearance in general.” She placed a hand over Jaqueline’s. “But I know what she’s
really like inside, and I love her. Eric can, too.”

“No, it’s not that I don’t want her to get married. It’s just… didn’t you think being married would be different than… what
it is?”

“What do you mean?”

She felt ridiculous voicing her thoughts. “I mean you start out so in love, and you think there’s nothing you can’t do together,
and little by little you realize… how wrong you’ve been.”

Lucia frowned. “Marriage isn’t perfect, Jaqueline, but what’s the alternative?”

Jaqueline had had plenty of alternatives at one point in her life. She’d been young and beautiful. She’d had tons of friends
and a loving family. But she’d left all that behind in Argentina to follow Victor and his crazy dreams. Dreams she’d been
foolish enough to believe in. Dreams that had all fallen apart, one by one. Women should never believe in men. She wouldn’t
encourage Victoria to take an interest in someone like Eric, who was just as wild as Victor and Antonio. But she could understand
why Lucia thought it was a good idea. Maybe a permanent relationship
would
calm the boy down. “I know,” she said. “I don’t want Victoria to be alone forever. I’d love for her to have children.”

Lucia beamed. “Grandkids! Can you imagine what gorgeous kids Eric and Victoria would have?”

Eric led Victoria into the house to let her parents know she’d arrived. After getting a very strange look from both moms,
he left Victoria in the kitchen while he took his father and Victor outside to show off his clean-up job.

“Your mother is going to be ecstatic,” Antonio said. “She’s been after me for years to do something about those old stones.”

“Well, she’s right,” Eric said. “You should actually replace them with stucco, but at least now they’re clean.”

“We’ve lived with it like this for twenty-five years, and we can continue to live with it as it is. I can’t afford to waste
money on cosmetic changes.”

Eric disagreed. He’d gotten used to having his homes look exactly as he wanted them to.

Victor seemed quiet, sort of preoccupied. Maybe he was upset that Eric had decided he couldn’t help him with his real-estate
problem. Although he appreciated that Victor thought enough of him to ask for his help, commercial properties were not Eric’s
thing.

The women came out to the porch with pastries and mate, a strong green tea.

“Oh, Eric, it looks brand-new,” Lucia said. She kissed his cheek. “Gracias. I love it.”

He smiled. Then they all sat on the porch to enjoy the treats. Eric reached for a round pastry with dulce de leche in the
middle. Heaven.

“Having you back is like coming back to life after being in a coma for years,” Lucia said. “I feel so alive.” She spooned
some sugar into the gourd that held the mate leaves, then added hot water.

Eric hadn’t had a mate in years. When he’d first moved away, he’d taken his own mate and bombilla and searched for Latin markets
that sold the yerba tea. But since he traveled so much, eventually he gave up and packed away his mate gourd for good. He
took the drink when his mother offered him the first sip. “Thanks, Mami. I’m glad to be home, too.”

“Cariño,” Antonio said. “Eric is here for a visit, okay? Don’t go laying a guilt trip on him.”

“I’m not.”

“It’s okay, viejo,” Eric said. “I’m glad she’s happy.” He looked across to Victoria, wanting to change the subject. “So you
know my mom kept me updated on your marital status.” He angled his head. “But she didn’t say anything about a boyfriend.”

“You mean do I have a boyfriend?” Victoria asked.

“You know that’s what I mean.”

“Eric!” Lucia said, though it appeared to him that she looked pleased.

Victor frowned.

Jaqueline and Antonio didn’t say a word.

“What?” he shrugged. “I’m just curious.”

Victoria looked amused. “No, no boyfriends. My dad chases away any man who shows any interest. And my mom scares them by talking
about weddings and babies on our first date.”

Eric laughed.

Now it was Jaqueline’s turn to look horrified. “I don’t scare away your boyfriends. What a thing to say.”

Eric noticed that Victor didn’t deny his part in making Victoria’s love life difficult.

“I just wanted to ask Victoria if she was interested in getting together some of our old high school friends. Maybe we can
all go out while I’m in town. And I didn’t want some jealous boyfriend trying to kill me. One black eye is enough.”

“I don’t hang out with anyone from high school anymore, Eric. In fact, the only ones I still see are the ones that go to the
Argentine Club.”

Eric passed the mate back to his mother, who refilled the gourd with sugar and water and offered it to Victoria.

She took it. “But we can look them up if you’re interested.”

“Would be fun, wouldn’t it?” He wasn’t sure how long he was going to stick around. Part of it depended on how the flip went.
It also depended on whether he could live this close to his family again after all this time. He watched Victoria sip from
the bombilla, which was a special metal straw that filtered out the tea leaves as you drank, and thought, not for the first
time since seeing her again, that she’d grown amazingly beautiful.

“No problem,” she said. “Let’s get together next week and go through the last numbers I had on everyone.” She gave the mate
back to Lucia.

“What a great idea! You can plan a reunion without waiting for the school to do it,” his mother said, reminding him for the
millionth time that his ten-year high school reunion was this fall. Every time he called, she asked if he was planning to
attend. And now he was sure she’d insist he hang around at least until then. She’d latch onto anything that gave him a reason
to stay close by. He leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek. He might just let her convince him.

Victoria spent the entire following week preparing for the Saturday wedding party that had reserved the back of the restaurant
for their reception. Although she rarely worked the floor serving customers—the waiters in black and white suits with bow
ties did that—this day, she helped to set all the tables, to prepare the plates for the waiters to serve, to cut the wedding
cake, and to clean up after the last of them went home. Victor had been in during the morning and lunch rushes, then had gone
to an investment meeting he was holding at the Argentine Club. He’d joined a venture capital association and contacted a few
angel investors who appeared interested. He’d drawn up a business profile and had meetings during the week, and he said he
also wanted to present it to friends from the club.

He came back to the restaurant late at night to help close up. La Parrilla had been closed for an hour. Tables had been cleaned,
floors swept and mopped, and the kitchen prepped for the following day. Now it was quiet. Even the music had been turned off.

“How did it go?” Victoria asked, her feet up on a chair.

“Good. Great. How did it go here?”

“Busy.” She drank a glass of cranberry juice with lemon soda, while Victor poured a cup of coffee. She filled him in on the
details of the evening. Victor would lock up the cash and receipts in the safe tonight and go to the bank in the morning.

Victoria planned to sleep in tomorrow. She was exhausted, but she couldn’t seem to push herself off the stool.

“On Monday, I’m interviewing a manager to run this restaurant while I’m away getting the other two started.”

This caught Victoria’s attention and helped to stir her quickly dwindling energy. “I thought you wanted
me
to run this restaurant.”

“No,” he said quickly. “Not everything. I want you to put more time in. Keep an eye on how things are going. But you can’t
do it all. Not yet. Little by little.”

Agreed. Nor did she want to do it all. But the way he said it gave her the impression that he didn’t think she was capable
of running it on her own, and that irritated her. “I’d like to sit in on the interview.”

“Why?”

“I’ll have to work with the person, so I’d like to have some say on if you hire her or not.”

“Him,” he corrected.

Victoria already knew he’d hire a man to be the manager. After all these years, his sexist attitude against women being in
charge didn’t surprise her. She was more amused by his macho ideas than offended, and she enjoyed giving him little nudges
every once in a while to remind him that his ideas were from another era.

“I’ll make sure you can work with him. But I’m not going to have this man thinking he has to answer to my daughter.”

“Why not? He should know that he
does
have to answer to me.”

“Look Victoria. All I want you to do is keep your eyes open. Make sure things continue to run well. If anything doesn’t look
right, call me, tell me.”

Victoria didn’t want more responsibility, but she was either going to assume more control or she wasn’t. She didn’t appreciate
being used as a spy. She sighed. “Dad, if you’re really going to go through with all this, then you need to include me more.
According to you, I’m supposed to inherit a chain of restaurants one day that I know nothing about. That I’ve had no part
in building.”

“But I don’t want you to have any part in it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He rubbed his temples. It had been a long day and she didn’t want to give him a hard time, but she had to know where she stood.

“Victoria, I’ve given my life to this restaurant. It’s been hell. I don’t get vacations. No real days off. Even when we’re
closed, my mind is here. I’m constantly asking myself, ‘Have we put in all the orders for the next week? Have I set the alarm
properly? Will we pass the next city inspection?’ I’ve been a slave to this business for eighteen years. Do you think I want
that for you?”

“I thought you did. If not, then why the expansion?”

“I plan to oversee it all. Eventually hire a board to run the franchises. I want you to sit back and collect the checks.”

Victoria smiled. “That’s nice, but not practical. I should be informed. Know about the business.”

“Victoria.” He looked uncomfortable. “You couldn’t even grasp the college classes in business. Just… let me handle everything.
Haven’t I always taken care of you?”

She wasn’t sure what emotion she felt more prominently: anger, offense, humiliation, or what. She dropped her legs off the
stool and stood.

“Victoria,” he said.

“It’s late. I’m leaving.”

“You’re going to run the restaurant. But not alone. And I can’t be here much in the next few months to get you ready. Try
to understand that I’m doing what I think is best.”

“Even if that means treating me like a second-rate employee.”

“I treat you that way because that’s the way you act. You come and go as you please.” He raised his voice. “You show more
interest in painting your toenails than you do in business. Start taking this job seriously and I’ll start treating you like
a serious partner.”

Except that wasn’t entirely true. He kept her at arm’s length and doled out her responsibilities like he was feeding baby
food to a three-month-old. Not that she’d cared in the past. She didn’t want to spend more time here; he was right. She had
no passion for this work and
would
rather paint her toenails than waste hours ordering beef. “You’re right. Hire a manager and leave me out of the whole thing.
I have better things to do with my life.”

“Victoria!” he shouted.

She whirled and glared at him. “I hope you make your billions, Papi, but I don’t intend to be Paris Hilton, holding a dog
and smiling because that’s the only thing people think I can do. I’m twenty-eight years old and you’re still treating me like
I’m eighteen.”

“What the hell do you want from me?”

“I want you to see that I can stand on my own two feet. That I’m capable of doing more than blowing up balloons.” Her voice
cracked and tears sprung to her eyes, but she couldn’t stop. “That I can choose my own men. That damn it, I have my own dreams
in life, and they have nothing to do with running this restaurant.”

His face grew red, and he eased himself off his stool.

Her voice grew soft. “But if I’m going to spend my life here, I want to be treated like your partner, not like your incompetent
daughter.
Now
, not in ten years.”

He took a few steps her way, and she thought he was going to say something, but instead his gaze dismissed her as he brushed
past her out of the restaurant. The door closed and he was gone.

Victoria wanted to cry and scream.
Why
was it so hard for him to see her? He said he loved her, she did every damn thing he wanted her to do, and yet he didn’t
really know her. All he ever did was dismiss her interests and opinions. Damn him. She wandered to the back office, picked
up her purse, set the security system, walked out, and locked the door—her hand shaking at the sound of the
click
. She knew tonight would be the last time she ever performed those tasks. And she drew a breath, thick with both relief and
anxiety about the uncertainty of what would happen next.

Chapter Seven

BOOK: Evenings at the Argentine Club
10.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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