Unbeweaveable by Katrina Spencer Read Free Book Online Page B

wouldn’t have bonded and been such close friends. The point of this whole thing is that you can’t make other people pay for your hard childhood.”
    â€œWanna bet?” I said, taking another sip of my wine.
    â€œWell, what are you going to do now?”
    I shrugged and pushed my plate away. “Truth is, I don’t know. That was one of the last magazines in the city. I can’t concede to working at some neighborhood paper.” I shivered. “No, I couldn’t do that.”
    â€œYou have your degree. Why don’t you try teaching?” Norma asked. Chris stood and started clearing the dishes away. I mumbled a thanks when he grabbed mine.
    â€œNo. I don’t want to do that.”
    Norma sighed and scooted her chair closer to mine. “Look, I know you have a lot of grand ideas about where you want to work and where you see yourself in five years, but right now, you just need to find a job.”
    I opened my mouth in protest and she put her hand over it. “You need some money coming in to handle your expenses. You barely could afford that apartment with the job you had. You’re too smart to keep passing up jobs like this.” She removed her hand and I nodded.
    â€œYou’re right. I do need some money coming in.” I twirled my weave around my pinky. “What kind of help would Chris need at the restaurant?”
    She smiled. “Now we’re talking.

I’m Fine
    Chris owned a small tapas restaurant called Muave on Fifty-first Street. I wanted to hail a cab, but since I was pinching my pennies, I took the subway. The restaurant was doing well, especially after a well-known actor started making his rounds there. With several paparazzi outside whenever he came to dinner, it put Muave on the map, and a flattering review in the Post followed. Now reservations had to be made at least two months in advance.
    I pulled the heavy wood door open and saw Chris sitting in one of the brown leather booths, talking to one of his waiters. He saw me come in and approached me.
    â€œYou ready for tonight?”
    â€œSure,” I said. My stomach had already began burning even after swigging my bottle of Maalox like a wino on the subway.
    â€œLook, I really appreciate you helping out. Becky’s out sick, so you’re really doing me a favor. Come on.”
    I followed him to the hostess stand where I would be standing.
    â€œThis is the layout of the restaurant,” he said, pointing to the laminated seating chart on the stand. “It’s pretty simple, really,” he said as he gave me a quick overview of how to seat people. “You think you can handle it?”
    â€œUm, I guess so.”
    He patted me on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine. You’re college-educated, remember? This should be a piece of cake for you. By the way, you sure you want to be doing this in those?” he asked, pointing to my five-inch Manolos.
    â€œSure. Why not?”
    â€œNormally Becky wears flats. It’s a lot of walking back and forth from tables, and you have to stand long hours at a time.”
    â€œTrust me, I’ll be fine.”
    * * *
    An hour later I was anything but fine. My calves shook as I towered over the stand, gripping it for dear life as I wrote down a reservation. I grimaced at the sight of a young couple walking in and tried to smile through the pain.
    â€œWelcome to Muave. Do you two have a reservation?”
    â€œYes. Kendrick, party of two at eight?”
    My finger trailed the book until I saw their name. “Ah, I see it right here. Let’s find you two a table.”
    â€œIs he here tonight?” the young woman asked, her voice high with excitement.
    â€œWho?”
    â€œJonathan Frankel? The actor from Vows ? I heard he was going to be filming a new movie with Jennifer Aniston this summer. Anyway, is he here?”
    â€œSorry, I’m afraid not.”
    â€œOh.” Her date rubbed her back, trying to