Preston's Honor(50)

I walked to my car and got in, sitting in the parking lot with the window rolled down for a second. Movement outside my car surprised me, and I sucked in a startled breath as I turned my head.

“Sorry, ma’am, didn’t mean to scare you.” He was an older Mexican man with a weathered, though handsome face and an easy smile. He removed the hat that had been on his head and smoothed his black hair away from his face.

“That’s, uh, that’s all right.” I felt at a disadvantage sitting in my car while he stood outside my window, but he stepped back and put some distance between himself and my vehicle as if he’d read my mind. I instantly felt safer.

“I couldn’t help overhear you were asking for a job, and see, my family owns a restaurant just down the road and we sure could use an extra waitress.”

“Oh . . . I . . . really?”

His smile widened. “Seemed kinda like fate the way I was just passing by and happened to hear the exchange.”

“Yes, I . . . thank you.” I tilted my head, considering the restaurants I knew were nearby. “Abuelo’s?” Grandfather’s. I’d seen the restaurant from the outside, but I’d never been there. Hope soared inside me at the sudden change in circumstance.

“Sí. You go today and ask for Rosa. Tell her Alejandro sent you for the waitressing position.” He smiled and tipped his hat before replacing it on his head and walking away.

I leaned out the window and called, “Thank you.”

He shot a wide smile over his shoulder and then got in an old truck parked a few spaces away and drove out of the lot.

I hesitated for just a moment, attempting to regain my equilibrium. I’d just gone from hopeful, to disappointed, to angry and humiliated, to hopeful again in the space of fifteen minutes, and that was a lot of internal bouncing around, even for me.

I drove the short distance to Abuelo’s and parked in the lot, telling myself not to get my hopes up too high from the word of a stranger I’d just met.

When I opened the front door, the delicious smell of grilling meat and the soft sounds of mariachi music playing on overhead speakers greeted me.

The space was open and airy with tall, beamed ceilings and lots of windows, but the décor was quaint and decidedly Mexican inspired with vibrant colors, large, wooden chandeliers that appeared rustic and handcrafted, and a mural that took up one entire wall. I tried to take in the details of the art, but I was too far away.

“Hello. One?” A smiling young girl approached me, holding a menu. Though she spoke English, her Spanish accent was pronounced.

“Oh. No, actually. I’m here to see Rosa?”

“Ah. Sí. Un minuto.” She walked away, turning toward a set of double doors and disappearing inside. I stood waiting, my nerves building. After a couple of minutes, the doors opened again and an older woman appeared, walking toward me.

“Hello. I’m Rosa.” Rosa was a lovely Mexican woman who looked to be in her forties, with her black hair in a low bun at the nape of her neck, wide inquisitive eyes, and a lilting Spanish accent.

I smiled and held out my hand. I hoped she couldn’t feel that it was shaking slightly. I’d never been very good at putting myself out there—and I’d done it once this morning to terrible results. Rosa’s hand was warm and soft and her smile was the same.

“Alejandro said I should ask for you about a waitressing position that may be open.”

For a second she appeared confused, but then she smiled again. “Ah, Alejandro.” Her gaze became more scrutinizing, and I held myself still so as not to fidget under her assessment. “Yes, we do have a position open. Do you have experience?”

“Yes. I worked at IHOP for three years. I could provide a reference.” Not from Ron.

Rosa smiled again. “A reference from Alejandro is more than enough. He’s my husband. I trust him.”

I wasn’t above a white lie now and again, especially when it came to acquiring a job I really needed, but something about this woman’s kind eyes and gentle manner made me hesitant to be anything except completely honest with her. “Well, see, I . . . don’t actually know Alejandro. I just met him about ten minutes ago.”

Rosa laughed, a pretty, sweet sound that made me smile, though with some confusion. She put a hand on my shoulder. “That’s enough, too. What size shirt do you wear?”

I blinked. “Size?”

“For a uniform.”

My heart soared. “Oh, um. Small.”

“I think we have several of those already in the back. Good. No need to order one. We’ll just get you a nametag. What’s your name, dear?”

“Annalia. Thank you so much.”

“No, thank you. How soon can you start?”

“Right away. As soon as possible.”

“Ah! Even better. Okay. Come with me, and I’ll put you with María today so she can train you.”

I felt one hundred pounds lighter than I had when I’d left IHOP. I had a job, and I could begin getting my life back on track. I was near Hudson, and I hoped and prayed Preston would work out a schedule with me so I could see him regularly.

I didn’t know what was possible as far as our relationship, and I wasn’t even sure what I was hoping for in that regard. We’d gone so far past what I assumed was the point at which we might have been able to salvage something—even friendship.