Vintage Rob

Chapter 6 - Sylvester Milyaro

Rob spoiled a perfect cup of black coffee with a swirl of cream. He stuck the stirring stick into his leftover French fries as Molly's friend George exited an ambulance outside the Kenmore Square fast food restaurant.

Lines for the cash registers ended a few feet away from where Rob sat. George and his friend joined one. "Hey, George, remember me?"

George looked up from his wallet. "Ah, the Honorable Robert Pirone." He stepped out of line and they shook hands. George was a tall man too. "Is this a stake-out?" His loud laugh turned heads.

"Actually, you could say that, yeah."

George handed a ten-dollar bill to his colleague. "Could you order my usual for me while I talk to this gentleman?" He put his hand on Rob's back.

***

That evening, Rob strolled under the maroon canopy at the entrance to Milyaro's Garden, Sylvester's restaurant in downtown Boston. He unbuttoned his peacoat in the restaurant's crowded foyer and looked over the heads of people standing between him and the dining room. He had exchanged his usual jeans and sneakers for brown shoes, tan slacks, and a striped button-up shirt, an outfit that would probably grow his reputation as an indifferent dresser. An attentive hostess led him into the main dining area where he expected to find Sylvester Milyaro at his usual spot with God knows who.

The hostess headed in the right direction while Rob glanced at tables on a raised dais on the far wall. Sure enough, just as Sylvester had promised, George and Molly sat at a table there with Molly's back to him. Her long brown hair gleamed, and George's eyes never left her face.

After chatting with George in Kenmore Square that afternoon, Rob had had a change of heart about asking Molly again for Makiko's contact information. And seeing Molly and George together reinforced his feeling that the past was past. If anything, he wanted to shake Molly and say, "Enjoy your life. Have a ball!", but avoiding Molly was the best way to help her move on. He had to consult with Sylvester now, and in a few hours he would meet Mark in the lounge. That was enough for one night. He would stay away from Molly and George.

Sylvester occupied his usual seat, a corner booth with a view of the restaurant's main dining room. Thick white hair covered the top of his head. A wrinkled newspaper blanketed half the table. Sylvester sipped coffee from a white porcelain cup and stared at a laptop until Rob slid into the booth. "Hey, Sylvester, are your memoirs almost finished?"

"Look." Ignoring Rob's joke, Sylvester turned the computer half a rotation. "I can view transactions in real time, from anywhere, as they're entered into the system." He turned his wrinkled face to the indulgent hostess, who left after punching Rob's order for a whiskey into a handheld device. Sylvester promptly deleted the charge. "Here's what table fifty-two just ordered."

"Is that Molly and George?"

Sylvester pressed keys with slow movements. He did not look at Rob or respond until an order covered the screen. "A touch of my fingers and anything is compliments of the house. Amazing, yeah?"

If he disagreed, Sylvester would make his case until Rob folded. "Very cool," Rob said.

"Makes it difficult to cheat me too."

"Except for a free drink here and there, no one skims off you. They love you."

Sylvester ignored the compliment. He wore a pressed white shirt but had not shaved. As the years passed his appearance mattered less to him, though his fascination for gizmos never waned. "This thing calculates everything too. Want a graph? What kind? They're beautiful too... look at that, full color, bars, circles..."