“No need. You can take care of it on Monday. I’ll swing by during lunch.”
My finger’s still hovering over the mouse, ready to click. “All right.”
“I’ll see you Monday. Oh, and I’ll text you my personal cell number, in case you need anything. Have a great weekend,” she adds in a singsong voice.
I end the call, my jaw open far enough to catch flies. Is it always like this for him? On the heels of that thought, my phone rings again. It’s the restaurant.
“Elena,” the owner of Tacoriendo greets me. “You didn’t say you were ordering for Mr. de Marco.”
In those couple of minutes, word about the change in ownership has already traveled across town. “Yes, it’s for Mr. de Marco.”
“That’s wonderful news.”
“Yes, wonderful,” I comment automatically.
“Same order as last time?”
“Yes.” With an inward cringe, I correct the head count. This may be the deciding factor on them taking the order or not. “But I’ll need to add enough food for an extra hundred people.”
“No problem at all,” she says with a smile in her voice.
“Great.” I sit back in my chair, surprised she’s so quick to roll with the punches.
“And I’ll add some half and half to the drink order. I believe that’s what Addler likes.”
I bite my tongue, not wanting to point out I wouldn’t know what Addler likes. Though the half tea, half lemonade is a popular enough drink.
“Make sure they have meat on the menu,” he says, glancing at my cell.
As if I haven’t pushed my luck. “Do you think you could add a meat dish to the order?”
“Sure. We can serve guisado with the enchiladas.”
I nod to Addler, indicating he got what he wanted. But then, he always does.