Chapter 19
chapter nineteen
camilo
The show had been amazing. The music, the crowd, everything had been complete magic.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen my mother so happy.
Granted Tom had pissed me off by getting tickets I knew must have cost him over a thousand bucks a piece without asking, but it was hard to stay mad when what he’d done made my mom’s whole year.
We were waiting for the valet service outside the theater to bring Tom’s SUV around, and the plan was to eat at a restaurant on Arthur Avenue where he’d reserved a table. I hoped he hadn’t done anything over the top. But it seemed that was the theme for the evening.
Once we were on the road, my mom immediately started gushing about the show.
“Juan Luis was so good and I can’t believe how much we danced.” She cackled. “Only Latinos can get away with that. I’m glad the show was at United Palace. We wouldn’t be able to do that in Carnegie Hall.” Tom and I both laughed at how giddy she sounded.
I teased Tom, who was focused on driving. “I don’t know about that, Mama. Dominicans would at least try.”
He nodded with a smug smile on his face. “I know that’s right.”
From behind, my mom piped up. “Cubans, too. We can’t stay sitting when there’s good music playing.” She sounded so damn happy. I saw her lean in from the back seat, her face turned toward Tom. “Thanks again for the amazing tickets, Tom. This has been one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time.”
Tom gave me one of those looks that made my heart want to jump out of my chest before answering. “It’s been a great night for me, too, Dinorah. Thank you both so much for inviting me.”
He reached for my hand, and I took it without hesitation.
We chatted about the songs and how great the band sounded as we drove the fifteen minutes to the restaurant.
Before I knew it, Tom was pulling up to a place I’d never been to before.
My mom, on the other hand was cooing in the backseat, apparently impressed with the location.
I’d grown up pretty close to Arthur Avenue so we ate here all the time.
Most of those places were family-owned and low-key, but this restaurant looked high-end.
I didn’t even know you could do valet parking here.
We got out of the car and Tom handed off his keys before leading us into the restaurant. It was still pretty full for a 9:30 p.m. reservation, and it smelled great. My mom looked around with a big smile on her face.
“I’m so excited for this dinner, Tom. I’ve heard this place is really good and reservations are impossible to get,” she said, beaming at him. “One of the doctors at the hospital was saying he brought his wife here for their anniversary and they had an amazing meal.”
Tom nodded, looking a little too pleased with himself.
“I’ve been here a few times for business dinners, and it’s always been very good.
Camilo said you liked Italian, so I thought it would be a nice way to end the evening.
” My mom nodded some more and kept looking at Tom like he was a real-life superhero.
I, on the other hand, was quietly trying to assess the situation.
The place was very fancy, but I reminded myself Tom had a lot of money.
The expensive restaurant wasn’t exactly surprising, so I tried to roll with it.
Tom gave the hostess his name and she walked us to a table hidden away in a little alcove. It wasn’t exactly a private room, but we were definitely tucked away. My hackles were going up a little, but I was determined to keep an open mind.
Once we were seated, a server came up to ask what we’d like to drink. He passed around wine lists, but before we could even read them, Tom opened his mouth, “We’ll have a bottle of the Krug, the antipasto, and the grilled octopus.”
The server took down the order and left without my mom or me having a chance to even look at a menu. I was really starting to get annoyed now but kept my mouth shut for the moment. Tom turned around and spoke to my mom.
“The antipasto here is amazing and I love the octopus. I also ordered some champagne so we can toast to our first night out.” My mom was beaming, while I tried to keep my temper in check. Where the fuck did Tom get off ordering my food for me like I was a five-year-old?
I glanced down at the wine list and looked for the bottle he’d ordered. It was a three hundred dollar bottle of wine. I lifted my face towards him and he must have seen through the pleasant smile I was trying for.
“Everything okay?”
“Fine, you didn’t give me time to look through the menu though.”
He at least seemed a little sheepish after my comment.
“Sorry, I just thought you guys would like to try everything. It’s all delicious,” he said reassuringly.
And it probably was and I’d love it, but it wasn’t the point.
The point was that for the second time this evening, Tom decided he was going to do whatever, without asking if I was okay with it.
I just nodded without answering, as he gave me one of the smiles that usually made my knees weak, but just then, it didn’t quite take.
I really hoped I could get through this meal without letting my temper get the best of me.
Once the wine and the food came, we all dug in, and like he promised, everything was excellent.
The grilled octopus was tender and there were these zucchini blossoms stuffed with mozzarella which were so good I almost swooned.
My mom was having some kind of religious experience with whatever she was putting in her mouth, so again, I tried to roll with it.
When the server came back and announced more food was on its way, I was a little confused, since we still hadn’t looked at a menu.
Tom must have seen the expression on my face. He cleared his throat, looking like he was about to give me another explanation I didn’t want to hear. “So I pre-arranged to have the Chef’s Table menu for the rest of the meal. I hope that’s okay.”
My face must have been more pissed-off looking than I thought, because his eyebrows dipped and his face blanched a bit. He seemed worried, and he fucking should be, too.
Nothing pisses me off more than people making decisions for me. And today Tom seemed hell-bent on making even the most trivial ones for me tonight.
I looked at my mom, who was totally clueless and having the best time ever sipping three-hundred-dollar champagne, before giving him a very chilly answer.
“That’s fine.” I turned around and fished the wine from the ice bucket thing it was in and topped off my glass.
The rest of the food started coming soon.
Everything smelled and looked great, but I was so annoyed at Tom I could barely taste what I was eating.
He tried multiple times to engage me in conversation, but all I gave were one or two-word answers.
My mom seemed a little worried about my silence, but I had zero fucks to give at this point.
Tom wanted to hijack the night so he could show off all his money? Then he could deal with me not being happy about it.
I kept pouring wine in my glass and staring at the wall until dinner ended. I knew I was acting like a brat, but I could not for the life of me turn my mood around. So, of course, I drank too much, which made me feel messy and stupid.
Did I stop? No.
At this point I was committed to being shitty to Tom, no matter how badly things ended.
I felt reckless and resentful as I watched him chatting with my mom.
He was sitting there in his Tom Ford suit looking like Mr. “I Have Life by the Balls 24/7,” meanwhile I was the hot mess getting wasted on the wine he was paying for.
The only thing keeping me from telling him off and leaving was the fact that my mom was there, and she’d raised me better than that.
Once dinner was over, we all walked out together, and it was clear the earlier mood was long gone.
We got in the car and drove the short distance to my mom’s building in complete silence.
Before she got out, she went around to give Tom a hug and big thank you for the amazing night.
I thawed a bit at this, but not nearly enough to take Tom off my shit list. As I walked my mom to her door, she took my hand and looked up at me with worry.
“Camilo, why are you so upset?”
I looked up at the sky, hoping I’d find a fresh batch of patience there, because I was all out. I was a little drunk and upset, but I really didn’t want to completely mess up this night for my mother.
I shrugged, as she stood there waiting for an answer. “Nada, Ma. I’m just tired and I’m a little annoyed at how Tom made all the decisions for us at dinner. I felt handled and I don’t like that.”
She nodded, knowing all too well how that type of shit went over with me. “I know, papi. I think he was just trying to show us a nice night out. Give him the benefit of the doubt, Milito. He may have gone a little overboard, but we still had a good evening.”
I exhaled, still struggling with how frustrated I felt. “You’re right. It was nice and I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
“I did. I’m going up now, so we don’t keep him waiting too long. Go easy on him okay, papi?”
I smiled at that, “Okay, mama, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I went back to the car once she was in the building, trying to let go of some of my bad mood. My mother was right. Tom had been trying to be nice. Even though he pissed me off, I could at least acknowledge he was coming from a good place.
We drove off and were on the road for a while before Tom flashed me a worried look.
“Camilo, did I do something wrong?”
I looked out the window and tried to organize my thoughts, so I didn’t jump down his throat. The alcohol from dinner had gone to my head, and I knew how nasty I could get when I was drunk and pissed.