Page 69 of Money Shot

“No,” he said as he kicked it again playfully. “These aluminum framed doors are pieces of shit.”

He gripped the door frame in his hand and pointed to the latch, which was still in place. “The slightest flex in the frame and they open, it’s a bad design.”

“Oh,” I said, as I studied the door.

I turned to face him and shrugged my shoulders. “So now what?”

He pulled the door open and peered inside. A quick glance over his shoulders later, he stepped inside the vacant restaurant. “Come on.”

I gazed the length of the parking lot. The half a dozen or so shops, which included a nail salon, a gaming store, and a frozen yogurt shop, all had very little business. A few passing cars were in the street, but no one was actually in the parking lot, only a few parked cars and Vince’s bike.

Not wanting to say no, and rather intrigued by the abandoned restaurant, I followed him through the door. With my heart beat steadily increasing with each step; I gazed around the empty establishment, staying a few steps behind him. The restaurant consisted of one large room, filled with eight booths, eight tables, and a small kitchen which was exposed and open for the patrons of the restaurant to view while dining. It was more upscale than I suspected it would be, considering its location. As I turned and looked at the artwork still hanging on the walls, I couldn’t help but wonder if the location was part of the reason it closed. Such a nice place in a small town outside of the city, and in a rundown shopping mall, it seemed a strange choice for the location. I glanced toward a few of the tables, their chairs askew, wondering if people left in a hurry or were ushered out after a grand closing complete with wine, live music, and streamers dangling from the ceiling. It seemed strange having full access to the place, knowing at one point it was a thriving business filled with lovers, businessmen, and the occasional debt collecting biker.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Vince said, causing me to shift my focus daydreaming to him.

He pointed to a single bottle of wine below the wine rack, sitting in a wine cooler. “There’s one bottle…”

“What is it?” I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders, opened the door of the small cooler, and handed it to me.

“It’s a 2006 Schiopetto Pinot Grigio,” I said. “Most wine connoisseurs wouldn’t admit to loving this, but it’s a great wine.”

He pulled two glasses from the overhead rack, blew away what little dust may have been inside, and began to hunt for a corkscrew. After a short search, he found one and uncorked the bottle.

After pouring the wine, he lifted a glass and gazed into it. “Want a taste”

As I chuckled at his question, my mouth began to water. “Really? You’re asking me if I want some wine?”

Dressed in his cut, a snow white tee shirt, jeans, and his leather boots, he seemed out of place standing in the end of the kitchen with a glass of wine in his hand. Truth be told, we both seemed out of place in the closed restaurant. We seemed like criminals.

After sip of the wine, it really didn’t seem to matter much. The wine was chilled perfectly, and was quite tasty. Somewhat disappointed we didn’t at least have an appetizer or something to nibble on while we drank it, I fixed my eyes on the small stainless steel refrigerator a few feet to Vince’s right.

“What’s in the fridge?” I asked. “Anything?”

He took a sip of wine, walked to the refrigerator, and opened the door. “Looks like some white cheese, some leafy shit, a bag of tomatoes and that’s about it. Maybe something left over from an appetizer or something.”

He slammed the door of the refrigerator and turned to face me.

“Let me see it,” I said as I stepped around him.

I opened the refrigerator. Fresh Basil, Roma tomatoes, and a few pounds of fresh mozzarella were on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator, just as Vince said. No doubt left over from the previous nights closing, it appeared fresh and seemed like a great idea.

A few seconds later, and I had found appetizer plates, a sharp knife, and balsamic vinegar. While I sipped my wine, I prepared two plates and walked to where Vince still stood.

“Viola!” I said as I handed him a plate.

“Does this shit even go together?” he asked.

“Try it,” I said as I picked up a piece of the appetizer I had prepared.

“All together?” he asked.

“Just like they’re layered,” I said as I lifted mine in the air.

I ate the cheese, tomato, and basil leaf in one bite and after swallowing it, took a drink of wine.

“Heaven,” I sighed.