Chapter 29

The bartender laughed at my request. “Oh, you mean Peter Cheater and the Man Eater? How much time do you have?”

I smiled at Maria. Finally. Finally it seemed I would get something on him that would help me.

“Is it weird to say I love you so soon?” I asked the bartender.

He smiled at me. “It wouldn’t be the fastest a patron has said that to me. Let me help this other couple, then I’ll tell you everything I know about them.”

He walked to the other end of the bar. I looked around for Peter and Elena. They had been seated in the back row of tables and were making out like teenagers. I tapped Maria on the shoulder and pointed.

She frowned when she spotted them. “Guess they made up.”

I snapped a picture with my phone just in case I could use it at some point. I was dark, but if you zoomed in on the picture it was clear that it was Peter, and that he was not with his wife.

I watched them a moment longer, and I was surprised to find myself feeling kind of sad for Elena. Peter was much older than her, and…well, gross. His shirts always had food stains, his hair was hardly ever in place, and I have caught him picking his nose and wiping it on the nearest surface on more than one occasion. I hated to admit it, but Elena was gorgeous. She could have any man she wanted. Why did she put herself through this with each of her supervisors? Whatever she was gaining from being with him could not be worth all of the things she let him do to her.

“Your moscato,” the bartender said.

I turned back to him. “Thank you,” I said with a smile. I looked at his name tag. “Robert.”

He nodded. “Before I tell you what I know, I’m curious. Why do you want to know?”

I started to answer, but Maria stepped in. “Because he’s making her life hell and we need any dirt we can get so we can get his ass fired,” she said, adding a grin at the end.

Robert shook his head. “Somehow that does not surprise me about him.”

“So he comes in a lot, I take it?” I said, eager to get this gossip ball rolling.

“Oh yeah. Twice a week at least. Every Monday with an older lady, who I am assuming is his wife. And then again every Thursday with this one.” He nodded towards Peter and Elena.

“My condolences,” Maria said.

Robert laughed. “Thank you. I don’t interact with them as much as the poor waitresses, thankfully, but I have certainly seen him enough to know what he’s like.” He leaned on the bar, deep in thought. “Let’s see. He’s done some shitty things, but I’m not sure they are fireable offenses. He screams at the staff, he never tips, he stays an hour or more after closing time. One time, he got up and did a little strip tease dance on the table. We weren’t allowed to serve him straight vodka after that one.”

“Oh, god,” Maria feigned vomiting.

My heart sank. I had really hoped that coming here would help me, but these stories wouldn’t get Peter fired. They just further proved was a complete and total asshat this man was.

“That man has quite the drinking problem,” Robert continued. “If you get him drunk enough - which seems to be every time he’s here - he will tell you anything you ask him. Sometimes the waitresses mess with him when he’s here with the Man Eater, asking him about all his past relationships or his wife or how he really feels about her. Which sounds terrible, but she’s even worse than him.”

“You don’t have to tell us twice,” Maria said, her glass of wine at her lips.

My hope returned. “Robert, you son-of-a-bitch, I think you just handed us our secret weapon.”

---

“Do you really think this will work?” Maria asked as she placed forks and napkins at the large round table we had rolled into the conference room.

“God I hope so,” I said. The truth was, I wasn’t sure. I just didn’t know what else to do at this point. This was my last (and only) shot before Peter turned me in.

After Maria and I left Harlow’s the night before, I drove her to the nearest grocery store.

“What are we doing here?” She had asked me. I explained that we needed to get Peter drunk while he was at work, so I could ask him questions in front of Logan that would hopefully incriminate him and get him fired on the spot. What better way to do that than to throw the supervisors an impromptu brunch, complete with all the mimosas Peter could down?

It cost me a small fortune, and I had to hope and pray that the credit card I used wouldn’t be declined, but if it worked…totally worth it.

Early that morning I sent out an email to Logan and the supervisors inviting them to the brunch. In it, I explained that the workers wanted to show our appreciation for them. I made sure to emphasize the point that there would be plenty of mimosas to go around.

Not surprisingly, Peter was the first to show up.

“I hear there are mimosas?” Peter said as soon as he walked through the door.

“Coming right up!” Maria said and walked over to the table with the champagne and orange juice. I watched as she poured champagne until the glass was almost full, then added just a splash of juice. We exchanged small smiles as she handed him the glass.

Peter took the glass without a word and took a sip. His eyes grew wide. “Mmm, these are great Marsha!”

“Actually it’s Mar…you know what, never mind. It doesn’t even matter,” Maria walked back to the drink table.

Peter walked over to the food table, where I was finishing arranging the bowls of fruit. He leaned in close to me and whispered, “Don’t think this little meal will make me forget about what you owe me today.”

My heart jumped up into my throat. “I know. You’ll get it.”

“Because I can see right through you. I know this is just a distraction. Appreciation brunch my ass,” he walked away, downing the mimosa as he headed to Maria. “Miss Marsha, keep ‘em coming!”

“You got it,” Maria winked at him and poured him another heavy-handed mimosa.

Peter sat at the table without getting any food. Other supervisors began to trickle in. At five til 10, Logan entered the room. He spotted me and pulled me aside, as far away from the supervisors as we could get without leaving the conference room.

“What is all this about?” He asked.

“We just wanted to show how much we appreciate all of you,” I said, repeating what I had put in the invitation email.

Logan frowned and studied my face. I knew that he knew I was lying. But he clearly couldn’t figure out why. I just hoped he would trust me long enough to expose Peter, then I could explain everything to him.

Logan walked away without another word. He grabbed a few things from the buffet then joined the supervisors at the table. I walked over to Maria at the drink station.

“What was that about?” She asked me.

“He doesn’t buy the story for this brunch,” I said. “He asked what was going on. But he’ll find out soon enough. How many drinks is Peter up to?”

“Well, I lost count after his 8th trip up here. Eventually he just grabbed himself a bottle of the champagne and has only been drinking from that ever since.” She said, struggling to keep her lips from forming a smile.

“Excellent,” I said.

At that point, Peter stood…well, attempted to stand, anyway. He had managed to push himself into the standing position, but then he immediately fell back into his seat. He picked up a butterknife and tried to hit his champagne glass, but he kept missing, so he just cleared his throat loudly instead to get everyone’s attention.

“I would like to propose a toast,” he said, slurring every word. “To me! And my impending promotion.”