Read Online The Blue Bistro by Elin Hilderbrand - Free Book Online

seating was
nothing,
” Thatcher said. “It was a
warm-up.
”
    At eight-thirty there was a nice lull—most of the tables had finished their dinners and were lingering over dessert. Thatcher snatched a piece of the brown sugar fudge from one of the candy plates headed back into the kitchen and handed it to Adrienne.
    “I always wondered if you ate off the plates,” she said.
    “Taste it,” he said.
    The fudge was an explosion of vanilla and caramel, and it gave her a much-needed sugar kick. She checked in on the Parrishes. They were one of those couples who didn’t speak to each other during dinner; only when Adrienne approached did they brighten. When she had delivered their caviar, they chatted with her about their home on Cliff Road. Between courses, at Thatcher’s prompting, Adrienne checked in with them again. They were both staring out at the water, each seemingly lost in thought. But when Adrienne appeared, Darla raved about the crab cake, and Grayson swirled his white burgundy in his glass. They askedAdrienne if she cooked at home and the expression on her face—which was horror and quite genuine—gave them all a good laugh. At a little after eight, Adrienne delivered a cup of decaf cappuccino to Darla and a glass of tawny port to Grayson. She placed the check (which consisted only of the bar tab and the two-hundred-dollar bottle of wine) on the table in what she hoped was a discreet way, and informed them that they were welcome to stay and enjoy the sea air for as long as they wished. This was not, of course, true—the entire restaurant was being reseated at nine. When Darla and Grayson made their move to stand, Adrienne floated—this was her goal, to float like Caren—to their table and held Grayson’s arm all the way to the front door. Before they left, Darla kissed Adrienne again—more lipstick—and Grayson pressed money into her hand, which took her so by surprise that she nearly dropped it. The Parrishes then lavished Thatcher with attention and sent their love “to darling Fiona. Tell her everything was superb. We’ll see you Friday at six.” And they set off into the night. Thatcher winked at Adrienne; she felt sorry to see them go. It was like visiting with her grandparents when she was young, complete with the gift of money. Adrienne checked her palm. Grayson had given her a hundred dollars.
    She showed the bill to Thatcher. “What should I do with it?”
    “Keep it.”
    “What about Bruno?” she asked. “What about Tyler?” Tyler was a busboy who was a senior at Nantucket High School. In the thirty seconds Adrienne had conversed with him, she could tell he was precocious. He had, he informed her, twelve days until graduation when he planned to get shit-faced at a bonfire on the beach just down the way from the restaurant. The only reason he got this job in the first place, he said, was because his father was the island’s health inspector.
    “There was a tip added to the bill for them,” Thatcher said. “If anybody puts money in your hand—unless he tells you it’s for someone else—then it’s yours to keep.”
    An electric thrill ran up Adrienne’s spine, the singular pleasure of windfall. The start of her new Future! She tucked the money into her pocket.
    “The Parrishes didn’t speak to one another during dinner,” she said.
    “They never do,” Thatcher said. “That’s why they like to have someone visit their table, three, four times a night. It peps things up.”
    The rest of the tables were slowly rising and moving around. Some people headed for the door, some walked to the edge of the restaurant to peer at the water. The busboys worked like crazy to strip the tables. The piano man took a break and the CD player kicked in with Billie Holiday. Adrienne’s sunburn throbbed like a red alarm; she was tired. She could easily go home and sleep with the hundred dollar bill under her pillow until morning.
    “Now,” said Thatcher. “Now you’re going to earn your