Chapter 12
Alex
A teenage boy greets us as soon as we enter the restaurant. He has a big smile on his face. “Mr. Alvarez,” he says, “I thought that was your car. Would you like me to give it a wash?”
Alonzo smiles back at him. He pulls out his wallet and hands the teen a one-hundred-dollar bill. “Sure, it’s been needing a wash. Think you can give it a nice scrub?”
My jaw almost drops. How much money does he have that he can just hand out hundred-dollar bills like nothing?
The teen takes the bill and smiles at Alonzo again. “Of course! I’ll have it ready by the time you’re done eating.”
“Emilio!” a woman’s voice cuts through the ambient Spanish music playing overhead, causing the teenage boy to startle. I follow his frightened eyes to the back of the restaurant, where an older woman appears out of the kitchen. Her silver hair almost matches the white color of her apron. “ Mendigo chamaco!” she scolds him as she approaches us. I don’t understand what she’s telling him, but her voice and face say it all: she’s pissed.
“It’s fine, Mrs. Agustina!” Alonzo calls to her with a calm smile. “He’s just helping me out. Right, Emilio?”
Emilio nods, and his smile returns. “I’ll get started on your car,” he says before heading to the back of the restaurant.
The woman shakes her head at the teen, who is much taller than her, as he walks past her.
“Alonzo,” the woman says when she reaches us. She gives him a tight hug, which he reciprocates. “We haven’t seen you in a while. We thought you forgot about us!”
“I’ve been a little busy lately, but I could never forget about you, Mrs. Agustina. I brought a friend for dinner,” he says, motioning to me. “This is Alex.”
Friend? Is he ashamed to admit I’m his student? Interesting.
Mrs. Agustina looks at me. She struggles to hide her surprised expression. “Agustina Lomas,” she says, reaching out to shake my hand.
“Alex. Nice to meet you,” I say, taking her hand.
“Since you brought company tonight, would you like a different table than where you normally sit?” Mrs. Agustina asks Alonzo. She turns to look at me again. Her eyes linger on me a little too long, making me slightly uncomfortable. I wonder if there’s something on my face.
“Yes, please,” Alonzo says. “I need a table for two.”
Mrs. Agustina leads us to a small table by the front window. She hands us menus and asks what we want to drink.
“I’ll have the usual,” Alonzo smiles at her.
“And for you, miss?”
“A coke is fine. Thank you.”
She nods. “I’ll give you both some time to look over the menu, then I’ll send Aurora to take your order. She’ll be pleased to see you, Alonzo,” she says before taking her leave.
“This place is nice,” I say, looking at the colorful paintings on the wall. It feels cozy and has a lot of character. The wall behind Alonzo has a large painting of two men in white outfits harvesting prickly pear with large machetes.
“I own dozens of restaurants across the state,” Alonzo says. “But this is my favorite one.”
“Wow, so you’re an entrepreneur?”
“Hardly,” he says. “I do very little day-to-day business operations. I simply buy struggling restaurants and hire the existing owners, like Mrs. Agustina. Her younger sister passed away from cancer five years ago. Mrs. Agustina took in her sister’s kids, Emily and Aurora, and is raising them as her own. Unfortunately, that’s not all her sister left behind. There were hefty medical bills, too. I bought the restaurant and hired Mrs. Agustina to run it.”
“So you take advantage of struggling businesses?” I ask instinctively.
He smiles. “Does Mrs. Agustina look unhappy to you?”
I shake my head slowly. She doesn’t.
“I’m surprised you invested in a small restaurant like this one instead of something more fancy,” I say.
I’m probing for information about his businesses because I have a hunch they are money laundering operations. I casually page through the menu, pretending to ask a perfectly innocent question.
“I own several fancy restaurants, too,” he says. “It can’t all be charitable work.”
I’m not sure what to think. It’s possible the money he gave me came from his restaurant businesses, but how did he manage to buy those restaurants? Clearly, it all went back to mafia money. And yet, his money helps people like Mrs. Agustina.
“Wait, you gave that kid, Emilio, a hundred bucks. Why?” I ask. His car is spotless and shines like it was recently waxed by professionals. Surely, Emilio will mess up the shine.
“Emilio reminds me of myself when I was younger. And he’s had it rough these past couple of years, so I figured he needs a break,” Alonzo says. “Now, let’s order some food because I’m starving.”
Looking through the menu items, I can’t help but wonder what a young Alonzo looked like. Unfortunately, all I can see in my mind is a mafia enforcer with a nice suit and tatted arms.
A few minutes later, a teenage girl brings out drinks.
“Alonzo!” she says with a smile. Her smile all but disappears when she sees me. There is definitely something about me that gives people around here pause. I glance at the patrons at the restaurant.
There are other white people here, I think to myself. So it’s definitely not that .
“Aurora, this is my friend, Alex,” Alonzo introduces me.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say.
Aurora ignores me. With a calmer voice, she asks what we’ll have for dinner.
Alonzo grins and shakes his head. He probably noticed Aurora’s change in tone as well. “Please get me the usual.”
“And you?” Aurora asks coldly.
“The street tacos plate,” I say, still confused about why her mood suddenly changed when she saw me.
“It’ll be right out,” Aurora says before snatching the menu from my hand and departing without saying another word.
“Did I do something wrong?” I ask. “Aurora seems cold.”
“Teenage crush,” Alonzo says. “She’s had a crush on me for some time and is probably jealous of you.”
“Why would she be jealous of me? You introduced me as a friend.”
“She’s a teenager,” Alonzo says as if that explains everything.
“Mrs. Agustina looked at me weird, too. She kept staring at me when she greeted us. Does she have a teenage crush on you, too?” I ask, half teasingly.
“I don’t know anything about that. She seemed normal to me. About the money,” he says, changing subjects. “Now that you know where it comes from, I assume you’ll keep it and use it.”
I glance up at the wall behind him. I really want to believe the money he gave me comes from his legitimate businesses and not from killing people. It seems there is more to Alonzo than what Jacob told me. Maybe Jacob doesn’t know Alonzo as well as he thinks.
“I guess I can accept it,” I reluctantly say.
“Good. Call Jacob tonight and tell him you quit.”
It’s not that simple .
What am I supposed to tell Jacob when he asks me how I will pay for my apartment and college tuition?
“Well, remember the guy I’m supposed to seduce and rob blind? Yeah, he gave me a shit-ton of money, so I don’t need you anymore.”
No, it won’t be that simple. Jacob knows Mom’s situation. He knows I need the money and will find it suspicious if I quit out of the blue without having a legitimate reason.
And yet…I want to quit so badly. I don’t want to set foot at The Den again. Or that stupid stage. Or Jacob’s house…
I tighten my hands into fists under the table, carving the nails into my palms.
“I don’t know if I can quit.”
“You will,” Alonzo says. “Unless there’s another reason you like to work there. Are you seeing Jacob?” He asks with a hint of accusation in his voice. I do my best to bottle up my annoyance.
“Jacob pays my bills. That’s it. There’s nothing between us.”
Alonzo studies me with suspicious eyes, then leans back in his seat and relaxes. “The money I gave you should be enough to pay for the rest of your school year, but if it’s not, I can give you more.”
I can’t believe he’s willing to give me more money. I’m just a random college girl. Does he always shower his flings with money? I find that hard to believe. Even if he is wealthy and owns multiple businesses, dropping tens of thousands of dollars on multiple girls would surely drain his bank account.
“I don’t need more money,” I finally say. “And I hope the money you gave me doesn’t have any strings attached.”
“The only string is for you to quit working at Jacob’s club,” he says, sitting back up and boring his eyes into mine.
“Trust me, I hate it there,” I say, both because it’s the truth and to throw him off my scent in case his mafia sense is detecting something suspicious.
“So you’ll quit then.”
I don’t know why he’s so adamant that I quit, but I nod and say yes. Jacob is going to throw a fit when I tell him I’m quitting.