Elin Hilderbrand - The Blue Bistro

No one knew where Mario was; at last report, he hadn’t checked in at the Subiaco compound. Adrienne wondered if he had flown off-island in search of another job. She wondered if she would ever see him again.

“What do you think?” Adrienne asked Thatcher at the podium as they awaited first seating.

“I stay out of the kitchen’s business.”

“Yeah, but what do you think?”

“Fee’s afraid,” he said quietly. “And fear does strange things to people.”

“It’s too bad,” Adrienne said. “They’ve been friends a long time.”

“They’re still friends,” Thatcher said. “This is just a fight.”

“So you think he’ll come back?”

“Where’s he going to go?” Thatcher said.

“I don’t know. Chicago?”

“Ha!” Thatcher gave her the laugh, and Adrienne felt better. She was smiling when the Parrishes walked in.

“Halloo,” Darla called out. She was holding a young man by the hand, pulling him along like he was Wolfie’s age. “Adrienne, this is my son, Luke Parrish. Thatcher, you remember Luke.”

Thatcher shook hands with Luke and patted him on the back. Luke smiled shyly at the floor. He was the exact opposite of what Adrienne expected a Parrish son to look like: He wore tiny frameless glasses and had long brown hair that spilled over his shoulders and down his back. He wore a blue blazer over a white T-shirt, jeans, and sandals. Between the lapels of his jacket, Adrienne could only read a single word printed on the front of his shirt: CASTRO.

“It’s nice to meet you, Luke,” Adrienne said. “Let me show you to your table.”

As she walked the Parrishes out to the awning, Rex launched into “Hello, Dolly!” Adrienne heard Darla behind her. “Isn’t she just lovely? Isn’t she exquisite? She used to live in Aspen. And Hawaii. Adrienne’s a real adventure girl, aren’t you, Adrienne?”

Adrienne pulled out a chair for Darla. She handed Luke and Grayson their menus. “Just to let you know, there aren’t any desserts tonight. Our pastry chef is on vacation.”

“On vacation in the middle of July?” Grayson said. He leaned closer to Luke. “That must mean they fired him.”

“So I’ll get your drinks, then,” Adrienne said. “Stoli tonic and Southern Comfort old-fashioned. Luke, what can I bring you?”

“A beer, please,” he said.

“We have Cisco Summer Brew on tap. Is that okay?”

“Perfect,” he said. “And a shot of tequila, please.”

“A beer and a shot of tequila,” Adrienne said. “I’ll be right back.”

She put in the drink order with Duncan and went back to the kitchen to give Paco the VIP order. Antonio was expediting.

“Where’s Fiona?” Adrienne asked Paco.

“Lying down,” he said. “She’s upset.”

“About Mario?”

“No,” Paco said. “Something about JZ. Eddie got the story.”

“Have you heard from Mario?” Adrienne asked.

Paco scoffed. “He’s out getting drunk somewhere. Getting drunk and looking for ladies.”

“You think?” Adrienne said. She seemed to be the only one who was worried about him. She couldn’t bear to peek around the corner and see the abandoned pastry station.

Back in the dining room, she sat tables: the local author was in; Mr. Kennedy; a real jackass named Doyle Chambers; and one of the local contractors with a party of twelve. Adrienne opened a bottle of champagne for Kennedy-his wife, Mitzi, was now a devotee of the Laurent-Perrier-and then she swung back into the kitchen to pick up the chips for Parrish and put in two more VIP orders. She headed for the Parrishes’ table. From behind, Luke looked like a girl in men’s clothing. But that wasn’t quite right; his hair wasn’t feminine so much as biblical. He looked like the original Luke, the one who wrote the Gospel. But this Luke had inherited the Parrish demeanor. Adrienne found the three of them sitting in silence, sipping their drinks. The shot of tequila had been drained and pushed to the edge of the table. Adrienne scooped it up as she set down the chips and dip.

“Another?” she asked Luke.

“Please,” he said.

This seemed to startle Darla from her reverie. “Oh, Adrienne, honey, won’t you please stay and chat with us for a second?”

“I’d love to.”

“I told Darla that arranged marriages have been out of fashion for over a hundred years,” Grayson said. “She refuses to believe me.”

Darla laughed and threw her hand in the air. “I just thought they might have something in common. Luke loves to travel. After Amherst, he spent a year in Egypt.”

“Egypt?” Adrienne said. “I’ve always wanted to see that part of the world. I had a boyfriend once who offered to take me to Morocco, and at times I regret not going.”

Luke tented his fingers. He was looking at Adrienne longingly, she thought, but then she realized that he was eyeing the empty shot glass in her hands. He wanted his tequila.

“How old are you, Adrienne?” Darla asked.

“Twenty-eight.”

“And Luke is twenty-nine!” Darla said. “He’s our youngest.”

“And our nuttiest,” Grayson piped in. “It was a hard lesson but I finally learned that our three boys were not mined from the same quarry. This guy”-and here he pounded Luke on the shoulder-“is a free spirit.”

“Josh and Timmy are more traditional,” Darla said.

“They’re into wearing suits and paying alimony,” Luke said.

“Okay, well,” Adrienne said. “I’ll get you another tequila. Darla, Grayson, can I bring you anything else right now?”

“Just yourself, when you have a minute,” Darla said.

Adrienne stopped at the bar to order another tequila and then met Thatcher at the podium. Everyone from first was down.

“I think Darla is trying to set me up with her son,” Adrienne said.

“Oh, I know she is,” Thatcher said. “For years she’s been wondering if he’s gay. She told me on Tuesday that it was her intention to introduce him to you.”

“And what did you say?”

“I said, ‘Good luck. I hear she’s very picky.’ ”

Adrienne swatted him. “Not picky enough.”

“I want to have a meeting after closing tonight,” Thatcher said.

“A meeting?”

“On the beach outside my office.”

“Because of Mario?”

“Morale booster,” he said. “It’s mandatory. Please spread the word.”

No one on the staff expressed enthusiasm about a mandatory meeting at one o’clock in the morning. Joe looked at Adrienne cross-eyed; Spillman claimed he had a date with his wife at Cioppino’s.

“Morale booster?” he said. “What are we going to do-have a sing-along around the campfire?”

Caren, who was standing right there, said, “Thatch likes to give a little speech when the first person burns out.” She nudged Spillman. “Last year, remember, when Bruno lost his shit on that woman with the alligator shoes, Thatch gave us the talk and we all got a raise?”

“True,” Spillman said.

Tyler Lefroy asked if there would be beer. Adrienne was too afraid to tell anyone in the kitchen about the meeting; she would make Thatcher handle that.

Between their appetizer and entrée, Adrienne visited the Parrishes again. She had to admit, Luke Parrish fascinated her, not because of anything he said or did, but because he was so different from Darla and Grayson. He was a revolutionary. He’d ordered the mixed green salad with beets, and the ravioli; he was a vegetarian. And now, after two beers and three shots of tequila, Adrienne could tell he was getting drunk. His posture was falling apart. He was slumped in his seat.

“How’s everyone doing here?” Adrienne asked. Again, the empty glass of tequila had been pushed to the edge of the table, and Adrienne picked it up and held it discreetly at her side. “Would you like another?” she asked Luke.