Dinner at Fiorello’s Read Online Free PDF Page A

his plate and used napkins. “You sure you don’t want somethin’ else? A sweet?”
    Now would be the perfect time to say “Yes, I’d like an application for the kitchen help job.” But Rosalie, to be honest, intimidated him. He was afraid she’d laugh in his face.
    “No, thank you,” Henry replied meekly and watched her walk away with longing and self-disappointment. Maybe this is a sign. Go on, get yourself home. Do what’s expected of you.
    Just then Carmela, who may or may not have picked up on the thoughts he was transmitting, waltzed over to his table. “So how was everything? This was your first time here, right?”
    “How did you know that? And everything was amazing.”
    “You look scared.” Carmela laughed. “Not used to eating alone? Or does Italian food frighten you?”
    “No, no, of course not.” Henry felt a blush rise to his cheeks as he realized Carmela was teasing him. He wondered if she was flirting with him. There was really no reason for her to come over to the table. After all, he had paid and should be clearing the spot for other potential diners. “Do I really look scared? That’s silly.”
    Carmela shrugged. She wrapped one of her red curls around her finger. “I don’t know if it’s scared or just gorgeous.”
    She laughed again, and Henry noticed how delightful that laugh was. It was a little raspy, like a woman much older than Carmela, maybe even like a man. But the contrast worked for her.
    Flirting. Definitely a little flirting going on here , Henry thought. At least on her part. Sorry, girlfriend, but you’re not my type. I may be young, but I’m already quite sure I prefer sausage over pie.
    “Well,” Henry started to confess, “maybe I am a little nervous. I don’t know about scared, but anxious? Yes. Okay.”
    Carmela looked quickly behind her. Henry supposed she was making sure there was no one she should be greeting or seating. “What do you have to be nervous about?”
    Like the moment before he entered the restaurant, Henry just summoned up the courage and took a leap. It was a now-or-never moment. “I was thinking about applying for the job here I saw on Craigslist.” He smiled. “At least, if you guys are still looking.”
    “What? You?”
    This was exactly the reaction he’d expected from Rosalie. He nodded. “Yes, me,” he said defensively. “Why not?”
    “What do you wanna work in a restaurant for, Golden Boy? You look like you should be swimming at your club or out on a sailboat on Lake Michigan. Don’t you have some Ivy League school to go to in the fall?”
    Henry caught himself before he told her he was slated to go to NYU. Instead, he said, “Maybe I want to be a chef. Maybe that’s all I’ve ever dreamed about being. It isn’t all about power and money.”
    “Well, that’s good, because you won’t get much of either of those here.” Carmela cocked her head. “You really want to apply? ’Cause I have to tell you, it’s gonna be grunt work. Busing tables, bubble dancing—”
    Henry cut her off. “Bubble dancing?” He imagined the unimaginable: that Fiorello’s staged weekend strip shows. An image rose up in his mind of himself covered with soap bubbles that would gradually pop before he finally stood naked before a room full of Chianti drinkers.
    “You really don’t know the business, do you? A bubble dancer is what we call a dishwasher.”
    Henry laughed, long and hard, both to release some of the jitters he felt and for the stupidity of what he’d been thinking. “Yeah, I knew that. And I also know this is entry level.”
    “Entry level,” Carmela scoffed. “I’ll go set things in motion. It would be fun having you here.” She actually winked at him.
    Henry shook his head as he watched her walk away. One of the first things he would have to do if he did land the bubble dancer gig was to set Carmela even straighter than she already was.
    And then it came to him. Carmela had caught him eyeing up Antonio as soon as