Green Stone Ring Page 15

At six-ten Ric arrived, and Howard sent him up. When Ric got to the door, it was ajar.

  He stuck his head inside, tapping gently. “Gini?”

  “Come in,” she called out.

  As he rounded the breakfast bar, she walked out of her bedroom messing with her earring. She was limping, with one high heel on and the other tucked under her arm.

  “There,” she said lowering her hand from her ear and grabbing her shoe. She leaned on the corner of the bar and put it on. She was wearing a long sweater-knit dress that showed off her slender body and full chest. Ric found himself taking a gasp of air as her look took his breath away.

  “Oh, I’ll be right back.” She turned and went back into her room.

  Ric had to concentrate to keep his body from reacting to his desire for her. He had been thinking about his love for her, and each time he felt that rush of euphoria, he was stalled by the thought she was married, and not just married, but married to his friend. He wasn’t the type of person who would steal another man’s wife; at least he had never thought so. But he truly loved her not just in his heart, but with his whole body—it ached for her. He knew it wasn’t right, and he would fight it.

  They’d just go out tonight and have a good time. Nothing had to be done or decided. Just two friends having a good time.

  “Okay,” she said with a beaming smile, carrying a small handbag. “I think I’m ready.”

  “Gins, you look beautiful, absolutely beautiful.”

  “Why, thank you, sir.” She made a small curtsy.

  He hadn’t seen her sweet playfulness for years. It was refreshing.

  She walked past him to get her coat, looking at her watch. It was six-eighteen.

  “Only three minutes late. That’s not too bad.”

  They walked down through the lobby.

  Howard looked up. “Ms. Anderson. Mr. Santini. Have a wonderful evening.”

  They both commented back and left the building. Howard didn’t interfere with the patrons of the building or their personal lives, but he knew a budding romance when he saw it. Mr. Legotti hadn’t been in the building for some time. Most of the mail was addressed to Ms. Anderson. He wouldn’t pry, although he always found the affection between Ms. Anderson and Mr. Legotti quite touching. Mr. Santini and another woman had frequented the building right after the Legottis moved in a few years back. But neither had been there for a long time.

  “Where’s your car?” Gini asked.

  He looked at her and smiled. “We’re just going to the hotel. I thought we could walk.”

  “Perfect!”

  He bent his elbow, and she slipped her arm around his.

  “What exactly are we going to?”

  “The hotel puts on a ‘Thank you in advance of the Christmas holidays party’ every year for the staff. We, my company and contract workers, take over the services and wait on the hotel workers in the Harbor Bar.”

  “I love that room, such a great view.”

  They walked through the rotating doors and down to the bar. A man walked up to them and took their coats.

  “What are we going to do?”

  He showed her the way. “You, my sweet Gins, are going to sit on the stool and enjoy the festivities. I’m going to take care of the bar duties.”

  “Oh no, Ric, a bartender. Do you know how to do that?”

  “Of course,” he said with no concern.

  “Uh-oh,” the barkeep, Jacques, said as Ric stepped behind the bar. “I’d better take an inventory.”

  Ric took off his suit jacket and hung it back behind the liquor shelf. “Come on, I only broke two glasses last year.”

  “And you poured a half a bottle of fine scotch on the floor, if I remember.”

  Ric laughed. “We covered that expense. Much better than the year before.”

  “By far.”

  Jacques walked over to Gini.

  “Can I get you a good drink before he takes over?”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “I have a special holiday tini.”

  “Sure, I’ll try that.”

  Ric had on nice tailored black pants and a vest to match. He rolled his perfectly ironed white shirtsleeves up just below the elbow. He tied on a sparkling white apron around his slim waist up under the vest. Gini sat and watched him dress for the part.

  “Here you go, miss,” Jacques said.

  “Gini.”

  Jacques took the martini shaker and gave it a hearty shake, tipped the lid, and poured the pink liquid into a chilled martini glass. He stuck in a short peppermint stick for a garnish.

  She took a sip. “Mmm, delicious.”

  “Okay,” Ric said. “Get out of here, Jacques. It’s time for you to party.”

  Jacques patted him on the arm as he walked out from behind the bar. “Have fun.”

  People dressed in holiday party clothes started filtering into the room; others were in casual dress or still in their hotel uniforms. Across from the bar was a long string of tables with all kinds of food, soft drinks, and water. Not too many people were ordering mixed drinks. Ric was mostly serving wine and beer.

  Jacques walked over to Gini about forty-five minutes into the party and put a plate of finger food down in front of her.

  “Need another drink?”

  She smiled. “Thanks for the food. I think I’ll switch to wine. I’m pretty sure the bartender can handle that without difficulty.”

  “One would hope.” Jacques winked.

  “Are you having a good time?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. We all appreciate our employers. They treat us like family.”

  She picked up a small puff pastry. “You’ve always been a bartender?”

  “Yes, this is my baby.” He rubbed his hand along the bar top. “I give Ric a bad time, but he treats her with respect. I don’t trust just anyone inside of her.”

  Suddenly the room was all busy with laughter and happy conversations. A lot of people had gathered to place their drink orders. A large majority, Gini realized, were young women. Ric smiled and chatted, poured wine, popped tops off beer bottles, held the bottle up high and then swooped back down to the glass, scraping a small amount of foam from the beers, and handed the drinks to two ladies. Each stuck a five-dollar bill in the large fishbowl-shaped dish on the bar.

  “And how about you, pretty miss?” he said, walking over to Gini. “Can I get you a refill?”

  She smiled. “You’re having the time of your life.”

  “Yes, I am!”

  “A chardonnay, please, Mr. Bartender.”

  After she received her wine, she slid down off the stool. The large room was getting crowded. She walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and looked out. The night lights were beautiful, a bit of Christmas color here and there. The view was South Boston and planes lined up in the sky, approaching the city, as far as she could see. She loved Boston.

  By ten o’clock, the room quieted, and only the hired contract staff filled the room.

  Jacques went behind the counter. “Okay, out of my bar.”

  Ric wiped the counter in front of him with a towel.

  “Ahh,” Jacques said. “Your dishwashing skills need some work.”

  There were mugs in the sink, champagne flutes on the lower shelf, and a tray of half-clean glasses sitting near the edge. Jacques walked over and discreetly moved the tray back.

  “I’ll get them cleaned up. Give me time, ole boy.”

  He patted Ric on the shoulder. “Your time is up, job well done. Thanks for the break; I appreciate it. Now, go be with your lady.”

  He nodded his head toward Gini, who was back on the barstool. Ric took off the apron and threw it in the laundry bin. “I didn’t break or spill a thing.” He put his head up with his chest out—proud of himself.

  “Good boy!”

  Ric grabbed his suit coat and started to walk out from behind the bar.

  “Don’t forget your tips,” Jacques said.

  “Those are yours. Merry Chris
tmas.”

  He walked up to Gini. “Come with me. I want you to meet my people.”

  Jacques dipped glasses into clean soapy water in the sink. “Gini, anytime I’m in here, your drinks are on the house.”

  “Thank you,” she said and went with Ric.

  Everyone was in white shirts and pants except for a lady in a green pantsuit and a man with nice pants, a long-sleeved button-down shirt, and a bow tie.

  “How’d we do?” Ric asked the lady.

  “Great. And how about you? How many glasses were broken and liquor lost?”

  “None.” Ric flashed a smile.

  “Carol, this is my friend Gini. Gini, this is Carol, my right-hand lady.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  Ric stood behind Gini and put both of his hands on her shoulders close to her neck.

  The man walked out of a door. “We have all the leftover food packed and ready for the homeless shelter.”

  “James, this is Gini.”

  “Hello.”

  “Nice to meet you, James,” Gini said with a slight, shy smile. He checked her out with his eyes.

  “I couldn’t function without these two people,” Ric said with pride. “Without Carol and James, Greystone wouldn’t be very entertaining.”

  Carol laughed. “Oh, Ric.”

  “So now, it’s on to tomorrow. Is everything in place for the afternoon tea and the party tomorrow night?”

  “Yes, oh master,” James said. “All’s in order, sir.”

  Gini could see they all enjoyed their work and working together.

  “Go on,” Carol said, “be gone. We have this done.”

  “Are you hungry?” Ric asked Gini.

  “Yeah, I guess I am a little.”

  “Let’s go to the Crow’s Nest.”

  “I don’t know that restaurant.”

  He didn’t offer Gini her coat. They walked out of the bar and down a corridor into the large open area attached to the hotel. The Long Wharf warehouse from years past had been transformed into an area for small enclosed boutiques. The shops were geared mostly to the tourist trade, but Gini loved walking through them and seeing the interesting, unique items. A large metal screen blocked the entrance to the shopping area since they were all closed for the day. Ric turned Gini to her left, and they walked to a small elevator. Over the door, the sign read “Fly up to the Crow’s Nest.” The doors opened, and they stepped inside.

  “I had no idea this was here,” she said.

  They went up three floors, and the doors opened into a darkened, seemingly small space. They climbed about eight steps into another room where there was a smattering of tables.

  The headwaiter met them at the door. “Mr. Santini, your preferred table?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Gini looked up at him. He smiled and winked, then with his arm around her, he guided her to follow the waiter. They walked up a few more steps to another level of tables and were seated in the corner by two windows.

  “A three-finger scotch on the rocks?” the man asked Ric.

  “Yes, please.”

  “And you, miss?”

  “I’ll have a red wine.”

  “Bring her the Napa Petite Syrah,” Ric suggested.

  “And your usual for dinner, Mr. Santini?”

  “We’ll need to see menus.”

  “Very well, sir.”

  Gini looked out the windows. Their view was of where the river met the harbor and the many lights from Charlestown. There was a tanker weaving its way to Chelsea. As the ship moved closer, Gini could see the Tobin Memorial Bridge was closed. The police cars blocking the bridge had bright flashing lights.

  “How long has this been here?”

  “It used to be a men’s club, for seafarers and dockworkers, until about two years ago. I think the city insisted they move to another location. It stood empty for a while and then the restaurant opened. It’s a great-kept secret, and the food is out of this world.”

  “I guess it’s a secret. I live a stone’s throw away, and I didn’t know it was here.”

  Their drinks were served and a menu handed to each.

  He talked her into ordering the crab and cheese casserole.

  “I’ll have the steak,” Ric said.

  “Medium rare?” the waiter asked as he wrote.

  “Yes.”

  “Baked sweet potato?”

  “Yes.”

  “Large salad with raspberry balsamic vinegar and olive oil?”

  Ric nodded.

  “Very good, I’ll bring the bread.”

  “I guess that’s the usual,” she said, smiling.

  “Yes…” He grinned.

  “How was your Thanksgiving?” he asked her after taking a sip of his drink.

  She sighed. “Oh Ric, it was wonderful. You remember how Mama busied herself making sure everyone had enough to eat and insisting you have more when you were so full you could pop?”

  “The food pusher.”

  “All the family was there, and Dwayne…” She stopped to relish the moment again.

  “Even the wicked stepbrothers from the North?”

  “Who?” Gini asked, puzzled.

  “Your stepbrothers, Larry and Thomas. That’s what Franco and I called them. Mean son-of-a-guns.”

  She laughed. “You really called them that? Yes, they were there, my half-brothers. They are old. And Thomas looks just like Pop.” She put her head down and giggled. “The wicked stepbrothers of the North, that’s too funny.

  “You wouldn’t have believed how nice Dwayne was to me. He even told me he was proud of me.”

  “As well he should be.”

  Their salads were served.

  “So, Mama Elizabeth is doing good.” Ric filled his mouth with lettuce after speaking.

  “No!” Gini’s mood completely changed. “She was her sweet, lovable self at moments, and other times she was confused and distant.”

  Gini sat back in her chair, put her elbow on the table, and looked out the window again.

  “I hate to see her get older.” She slowly faced him. “I just hated that was the last time we will be together in the house I grew up in.”

  Ric was sorry he had brought up the subject. She had been so happy until the question.

  “How was your Thanksgiving?” she asked.

  “Good, really nice. You know Maria and Victor are like family. So much so, Maria thinks it’s her duty to find me a woman.”

  Gini looked at him with her mouth full. “A woman?” she mumbled.

  “Yes, she invited a date for me.”

  “You do need a woman,” she said, after swallowing the salad. “What’s her name?”

  Ric moved his mouth around a little. “Jackie… or Jewel.” He stopped to think. “Julia. That’s it, Julia.”

  “Is she nice?”

  “Nice enough. She’s a trial lawyer.”

  “And pretty?” Gini avoided eye contact so kept eating.

  “She’s attractive enough, tall and slender. Nice blonde hair.”

  She didn’t like that he was attracted to another woman, but why not? He was single and good-looking. She thought about all the young ladies gathering at the bar, knowing they were trying to get his attention. Soon he would find that special person he so much deserved. Maybe Julia was the one. She tried to ignore the jealousy screaming at her—she should be happy for him. But she wasn’t; depressed was more the feeling. Once again, she was going to be abandoned.

  “Are you going to ask her out?”

  Ric looked at her. “What’s with all the questions?”

  “Well, Maria’s right. You need someone.”

  Ric broke a piece of bread. “We’ll see.”

  “We’re pretty pathetic. Kind of down in our love lives. Your wife leaves you, and my husband’s miles away. Crazy. Thank goodness we are such good friends so that we can bathe in each other’s sorrows.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, I’d like to think we lift each other up.” He reached
over and brushed a breadcrumb from her cheek with his finger.

  By the time they got done eating, it was way past midnight. Gini’s long day was catching up with her. Ric helped her on with her coat, and they walked back to the Towers.

  “Once again, I have to thank you for another great time.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  “You have quite the life, Mr. Santini.”

  She reached up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. The door opened with the slide of the card. He watched until she got to the elevator.

  After the conversation with Carol and James, Gini knew Ric’s Sunday was a full one. She unpacked and did her laundry and other chores. Monday, she didn’t hear from him either. About seven o’clock she tapped her bracelet. “Text Ric Santini. Start. I just wanted to thank you again for Saturday night. It was wonderful. Stop.”

  She pulled in a deep breath. Maybe he was out with that Julia, she thought. He seemed taken by her. She knew he needed a good woman to share his life with. He was too loving and affectionate to be alone. And a lawyer, that would be perfect for him; they could talk for hours. He’d probably taken her to the neighborhood football party. She saw them in her mind, Ric and Julia, Julia smiling and confident while Gini sat all alone like a child forgotten at the playground. She took another deep breath. Was she just going to let a woman he didn’t even know sweep him away? She needed to meet her and make sure she was good enough for him. Those were all crazy thoughts; she had to stop thinking about him. They’d had some good times together, and now they needed to move on with their lives.

  “Delete,” she said to the bracelet.

  She got up from her chair and went to the box on the mantel. She ran her finger along the edge. Finally, she opened the top, took out the ring, and slipped it on. She took her little finger and ran it along the fine platinum ribbon that made the intricate X and the delicate knot. Maybe she should go to China. Yes, maybe it was time to stop thinking about her own professional desires and go be with her husband. But what about Catherine? She couldn’t leave now right in the middle of things. She’d wait and go after the bill was introduced. Their marriage could certainly wait for that. Now, she was thinking like Franco, work first, deal with their marriage later. She looked at the ring; somehow, she’d have to figure it out. After all, Franco had never said he didn’t love her; in fact, he had said he did in both of his emails. Her job was what made her happy; she’d bury herself in her work and let the world go on spinning.