Chapter 27

"Thank you for driving the truck." Paisley absentmindedly tugged on her seatbelt. "I have my license but have never driven anything bigger than a car."

"You're welcome. I don't blame you for not wanting to take this on the road. It's a tank." Mercedes tightened her grip on the steering wheel. "Have you ever worked in food service before?"

"No, although I've helped Steve at the tattoo shop. I worked at an herb and tea shop about six months ago and then I had a seasonal job working at a garden center."

"You're drawn to natural things," Mercedes said. "Cool."

"I'm drawn to whatever pays the bills," Paisley joked. "I also worked at an oil change place. The job only lasted a couple of months. I discovered having synthetic oil permeate my skin wasn't good for my body, not to mention by the end of my workday I smelled like a tow truck with a major oil leak."

Mercedes laughed. "I'm sorry to hear none of your jobs worked out. Maybe feeding hungry festivalgoers will be a better fit."

"I hope so. Steve and I are kind of short on funds. A lot of the tattoo shop customers are like us, having trouble paying their bills. Tats are more of a luxury item, you know?"

"Either eat or look beautiful," Mercedes quipped. "Have you tried applying at places that offer full-time employment—something with benefits that also brings in a steady paycheck?"

"Yeah." Paisley pursed her lips. "I've had several phone interviews. They went off without a hitch, but then, when I show up for an in-person interview, I never get hired. I guess I don't fit their company image."

"Why do you think that is?"

"I dunno." Paisley patted her thin as a rail arm. "I'm a little on the skinny side, but stronger than I look. I even showed the guy at the curbside delivery place I could carry large boxes, but he never called me back."

"Do you think your tattoos could be a turnoff?" Mercedes blurted out.

"My tattoos?" She absentmindedly ran a light hand across the tattoo of flowers and the serpent dangling from her neck. "Tattoos are art and expression."

"They also make a statement…about a person."

"Yes, they do, which is why I love every single one of mine," Paisley said.

"But maybe not everyone would love them." Mercedes softened her tone. "I'm not here to make you feel bad. In fact, I don't think people should be judged on appearances alone. I'm just trying to help."

"Thank you. And thanks again for offering to drive plus train me."

"You're welcome. I hope you love it." Mercedes turned into the square and circled around to their assigned parking spot. It took a few tries—pulling forward, backing up. Pulling forward and cranking the wheel before they were lined up alongside the other food trucks.

"I could not have done what you just did in a bazillion years," Paisley said.

"It takes a little practice." Mercedes grabbed her purse, hopped out and headed to the back, where Paisley caught up with her. "We're right on time. The vendors are ready to roll. Hopefully, we'll have lots and lots of hungry music afficionados stopping by."

"The busier, the better."

"You'll need one of these." Mercedes handed Paisley an apron and started by explaining how to operate the iced coffee machine. Up next was showing her where the supplies were located. The last step was ringing up a sample sale on the cash register.

Training finished only moments before they opened the order window. Customers lined up, ordering dishes of thick lasagna, spaghetti and meatballs, cheesy manicotti and creamy chicken Alfredo.

Working together, the women plated, assembled and served meal after meal. For two hours straight, they worked nonstop, filling orders and ringing up sales.

Finally, there was a lull. Paisley slid onto an empty barstool and sipped her iced coffee. "The hours are flying by."

"They are. Do you think this is something you would be interested in doing again?"

Paisley's eyes lit. "Yes. The people are friendly. Some of them even tipped us, including the couple whose order I screwed up."

"We all make mistakes." Mercedes waved dismissively. "You're a fast learner. I could barely keep up with you."

The woman fiddled with her straw. "You're just being nice."

"I'm serious. You're doing a great job."

"I am?"

Mercedes nodded. "I'm sure Ma would be thrilled if you were interested in covering a few more shifts. The employee who was supposed to work today has the flu."

"I would love to. Sign me up." Paisley removed her cell phone from her pocket and tapped the screen. "Steve is checking in, asking how it's going."

"Make sure you tell him you're doing a great job and have the Mercedes' stamp of approval," she joked.

"He's geeked." Paisley slid her phone back into her pocket. "Maybe I'll make enough to keep the lights on. The electric company is threatening to shut our power off."

Mercedes pressed her hand to her chest. "How awful."

"We either eat or have heat. At least it's only chilly at night. The biggest issue is we can't run the tattoo shop without electricity."

"How much do you owe?"

"We're two months behind. We owe five hundred. Five hundred and twenty-two dollars to be exact," Paisley said. "Autumn offered to loan us the money, but we refused. She doesn't have a lot left over at the end of the month."

"I can help."

Paisley shook her head. "I didn't mention it to make you feel sorry for me."

"I know you didn't." Mercedes grabbed the tip jar and shook it. "You can have the tips. I also have a bunch of tips at home. My piggy bank is full. I want to loan it to you and Steve. There's more than enough to catch you up on the electric bill."

Paisley's eyes filled with tears. "But you don't know me."

"I know Steve, and I can see how hard you're working. I want to help."

Paisley turned away and swiped at her eyes.

Mercedes placed an arm around her shoulders. "It's okay to accept help."

Tears streamed down her cheeks. "I'm sorry. It's been a tough…rough stretch. I've been trying hard to find a job, but nobody wants me."

"We want you. If you are serious, plan on working every day during the festival. Ravello's has a great staff. We're good people. I guarantee you'll get along with everyone."

"Thank you, Mercedes. I don't know what to say," she whispered.

"I'm glad you confided in me, so we can try to help. I'll let Ma know right now." Mercedes sent a quick text to her mother, letting her know Paisley was doing a great job and asking her to add the woman to the rest of the music festival's work schedule.

Carlita's response was fast. "Wonderful. Tell her welcome to the Garlucci family empire."

Mercedes chuckled at her mother's reply.

"What did she say?"

"She said welcome to the Garlucci family empire."

"This is the best day I've had in a very long time. And you're the best."

"You're not so bad yourself." Mercedes gave her a quick hug, noticing a group of hungry customers heading their way. "It's time to get back to business. Let's work on racking up some more tips for you."