He speaks with a heavy accent. Russian, I think. Makes sense. Rouge told me a lot of the Aces waitstaff are immigrants from Eastern Europe or South Asia.
“Okay.”
He cocks his head. “I can still come? Movie night?”
I smile. “Of course, Jack. Or… I suppose that isn’t your real name.”
He shrugs. “Jack is fine.”
On our walk, I get to know Jack a little better. He is indeed from Russia and has worked at Aces for a few months. He started toward the end of March, and so far he likes it, says that the tips are great. He’s gay, which is a relief. I’m not exactly hurting to get hit on anytime soon after the fiasco that was my Reflections callback. He came from a poor village in rural Russia, so he’s excited to live in a country where his sexual orientation will be more accepted, where he can live the American Dream.
I don’t have the heart to tell him I tried to take my slice of the American Dream for the better part of a decade in New York City and failed miserably. Maybe things will work out better for him.
We get back to my apartment. Unfortunately, I don’t have a copy of Hocus Pocus on DVD, and I can’t seem to find it on the few streaming channels I subscribe to. We finally settle on watching The Devil Wears Prada. Jack’s English is limited, so I’m not sure how much he’s getting out of it. We spend most of the film chatting, anyway.
“Meryl Streep. I love,” he says.
“Yes, she’s great.” I lean back on the couch. “So tell me, Jack. What are your hobbies?”
“Hobbies?” he asks. It must be a new word for him.
“Sorry. What do you like to do for fun?”
“Fun? Oh, yes. I love to bake.”
“Oh really? What do you bake?”
“Lots. Cakes and cookies. Pirozhki, vatrushka.”
“What are those?”
“Very tasty. I make for you.”
“That’s very kind.” I smile. I like Jack a lot. It’s nice to have a friend. “Do you have a specialty? Something you make that is the best?”
“Oh, yes. Cherry tart.” He rubs his belly. “Delicious.”
“Really? You know, that’s one of Rouge’s favorites.”
He widens his eyes. “Rouge likes cherry tart? Perhaps I make for her?”
I laugh at that. “I’m sure she’d appreciate the offer, but I doubt Rouge would ever eat anything she didn’t make herself.”
Jack.
I hate how things ended between the two of us. We were such good friends those first couple of months when I worked at Aces, but then we had a falling out a year or so after we met. I can’t imagine how much fun we would have had if we’d stayed friends for the nearly five years I’ve worked?—
Wait.
Five years.
Jack started just a few months before me. In March of that year.
“Oh, my God.” I spring to my feet, pace around Alissa’s bed.
“What is it, babe?” Harrison asks.
“The Jack of Hearts. He’s an employee at Aces. In the Hearts section. And his five-year contract is about to end.”
