“Serving table seven.”
“You are not paid to socialize with high-value guests.”
“I was helping Mrs. Vitelli understand—”
“You were showing off,” he snapped. “Do you know who that man is?”
You lowered your voice.
“No, Marco. I know who his mother is. She’s a guest who needed assistance.”
His face darkened.
“You think a little sign language makes you special?”
You said nothing.
That usually worked best.
But tonight, silence tasted bitter.
Marco stepped closer.
“Stay away from that table unless I call you. If you embarrass this restaurant, I’ll make sure you never work in fine dining again.”
Fine dining.
As if carrying hot plates while men ignored your face was some sacred privilege.
“Yes, Marco,” you said.
He pointed toward the back.
“Go polish silver.”
You spent the next twenty minutes in the service area, rubbing water spots from forks while your hands shook with anger. Through the narrow window in the swinging door, you could see the Vitelli table preparing to leave.
Sophia looked around.
Looking for you.
You hated Marco for that.
You hated yourself more for obeying.
Then the kitchen door opened.
The entire service hallway went quiet.
Dante Vitelli stood there.
He looked completely out of place among stacked crates, steam, grease, and servers pretending not to stare. His dark suit seemed to absorb the fluorescent light. One bodyguard stood behind him, but Dante did not need help to command the room.
Marco rushed forward.
“Mr. Vitelli, is everything all right?”
Dante ignored him.
His eyes found you.
“Elena Russo,” he said.
You straightened.
“Yes, sir?”
“My mother wishes to say goodbye.”
Marco laughed nervously.
“Of course, I can send someone—”
Dante finally looked at him.
The hallway dropped ten degrees.
“I said Elena.”
Marco’s mouth closed.
You set down the silver cloth and followed Dante back into the dining room. Every server watched you pass. Every guest close enough to notice pretended not to.
Sophia was standing with her purse clasped in both hands.
When she saw you, she smiled and signed, “There you are. I thought they hid you.”
You almost smiled.
“They tried.”
Her eyes flashed with delighted mischief.
Dante caught enough of it to look between you both.
“What did she say?”
You shook your head.
“Nothing important.”
Sophia signed, “Coward.”
This time you did laugh.
Dante’s mouth softened.
Sophia reached into her purse and removed a small cream card.
She placed it in your hand.
