I had to wear a tux just like Dad. But in addition I got a little white apron which set me apart from guests while I worked. This was my first gala event I had attended. I wasn’t allowed any other time. And until I turned twenty-one I couldn’t serve alcohol anyway so the point was moot. Shane was Fiore’s only show bartender on staff officially. But it was one of the things I’d been learning since I was 16 and started drinking without my parents knowledge. Dad had been pissed. Babbo only rolled his eyes then started teaching me how to mix drinks. The same showmanship you used in the kitchen could be applied to the bar.
Babbo hated showing off but he encouraged it. It caught control and physics and a billion other things he’d go one about. So tonight I got to cover for Shane while he worried over his baby girl. I couldn’t imagine that turmoil he was feeling right now. His child might not make it.
I washed out the color in my hair and applied a slightly light color than my natural hair color. I sighed when I took off the nail polish and added matte clear coat. I put on a lighter eyeliner and not as thick and took a tube of strawberry flavored chapstick with me. There were a few habits I had that drove me crazy if I didn’t do it. Lip gloss was one of them, but I could be a boy in that and use things I could get away with. It was winter it was okay to have chapstick now. I preferred matte lip gloss defeats the purpose of gloss but it was about taking care of my lips – one of my better assets.
I walked out of my bedroom where my dads were wrapped up in an embrace kissing each other like they were in love or something. It was all cute and romantic and I had walked in on them. They pulled away as I walked past them to get my coat. “Don’t stop on my account. I’m leaving.”
I felt a hand on my shoulder and I turned to face one of my fathers. Dad was standing there appraising my look. “You clean up nicely. You remember the rules?” He asked as he straightened my labels and dusted off my shoulders as if I had dandruff or something but I knew it was my father’s way of saying I was presentable.
I nodded. “Yes, Mr. Vega. I’m all about the rules. May I go now? I don’t get to ride in that fancy limo you borrowed.”
Dad sighed. “You know why.”
“I didn’t say anything about wanting to go. Just saying I didn’t get to, now may I go?” I asked.
“Let him go Daniel before he sours our mood.” Babbo smiled at me trying to defuse the situation.
Marco Lucciano always road to the gala with Daniel Vega and his escort – Miss Angelina Dela Rosa. She was a native of Madrid, Spain as well as my father, and they’d known each other for years before they both came to the United States. She came to pursue her dance career and my father his law degree. And here they both stayed. Angelia was my dance instructor through out school. She taught everything between stints in the ballet companies in New York.
They would pick up Angelina and go to the gala together. Dad supposedly taking their head chef to the gala in style as part of the luxury of using him for the job. Such loyal devotion between companies. Since Fiore always catered the Hudson, Kennedy & Vega law practice Christmas Gala it really couldn’t be desputed. The Kennedy’s and the Hudsons were both regulars at Fiore’s. I knew them all by sight. Apparently I had missed Zane.
Dad pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Go. We’ll see you back at home.”
I nodded and continued wondering if Zane was going to be there as I walked out of the apartment and into the cold weather outside to catch the train.
I was the help. I had to be there early. I didn’t mind. I loved my job. And bartending I got to meet a lot of people. Even though all these people would be out of my league.