Anarchy

Chapter 14: Alter Ego

As it turned out, the outdoor restaurant right below us wasn't as inconvenient as I had previously thought.

Instead, it provided an excellent source of entertainment.

You see, Nick's fishing line and hooks hadn't been for fishing, at least in the traditional sense. Instead, we used it to play a little game with the highbrows below.

Our game went as follows; listen to the conversations, pick out the snobbiest, rudest club go-er, and play a few, innocent tricks on them.

Nick had gone first; his target was a sun-burnt, middle-aged man who had complained to the waiter, multiple times, that there wasn't enough ice in his drink. By the third time, the man's face had become even more red with anger. Distracted as he was, Nick lowered the line, hooked it under the man's boater, and plucked the hat from the seat where it was resting. The old man didn't stand a chance.

It was a nice hat, though I'll admit it looked better on the head of Hollywood's finest than the lobster arguing with the waiter below.

I was next. And I was determined to get a hat of my own. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be any within reach at the moment, so instead I settled for a scarf sitting atop the shoulders of an ancient woman.

Now I'm not one to pick on the elderly, but let me tell you, this lady had it coming. Nothing was to her liking; the crab was undercooked, her morning cocktail was shaken too roughly, the seats were uncomfortable; I could go on. But I'll spare you the agony.

I lowered the line, inch by inch, lining up the hook with her scarf. I just about had it too, when suddenly she moved to grab something from her handbag. The hook caught in her hair instead, and fearing I may have impaled her, I stilled.

I looked over to Nick, only to find him holding back a grin.

"What am I supposed to do now?" I whispered frantically.

He just shrugged, his amusement growing.

I felt the line go slack and looked back down; the woman had stood up to smooth her skirt before plopping back into the chair.

And that's what did it.

At the end of the hook, swinging on the line, was her wig.

With one fell swoop, the woman's head of hair came clean off; I should have known eighty year-olds don't have thick, though still graying, locks of hair.

Nick was struggling to hold back his laughter. Meanwhile, I sat in disbelief. Below, the woman hardly noticed. Now whether that be because she was on her third martini, or the fact that she was always looking for something to criticize, we may never know, but I do know this; I was now a proud new owner of my very own wig.

Hoisting it up, I detached the hook before planting it firmly on my head.

I turned to Nick; he was about to burst any moment now.

I grinned before putting on my best impression of the woman who had so graciously donated her wig.

"Oh my darling Nick," I began, "Won't you give Grandmama a kiss?" I held out my hand for him to kiss it.

He didn't. Instead, the laughter bubbled up and burst out, giving a fright to the club members sitting below us.

My laughter couldn't be contained either as the two of us clamored for cover within the storage building. Once we were inside, we let go, letting our laughter echo off the walls. Every time it started to die down, one look at the other had us rolling again.

"Enough," he panted, "My abs are killing me."

I obliged, snatching the wig off my head, but only because mine hurt as well.

Once we caught our breath, I grinned; looks like Nick isn't as serious and aloof as he makes himself out to be. One word from Grandmama and I could have him doubled over in laughter.

"What now?" I prompted.

"Well we can't go back—they heard us."

I stood there, thinking for a moment, before one of my brilliant ideasTM hit me.

"Is there a back entrance to the restaurant kitchen?" I asked, "I need to pay Luca a visit."

Nick frowned before nodding. "Yeah, I'll show you." He made his way to the door, but not before I stopped him, picking the boater off his head.

"You can't be seen with this," I explained, holding the hat up. "They'll think you stole it."

"I did steal it," he corrected. I rolled my eyes, walking to one of the piles of rubbish and carefully camouflaging the hat behind a couple of life jackets.

"Yes, but this way, you won't be caught." I walked back over, happy with my hiding place.

Nick just shook his head. "Don't you think the wig is more suspicious?"

"Precisely." I said, opening the door and walking out.

"Ana. You're going the wrong way." I was so focused on my plans for the wig that I didn't realize I had no idea where I was going.

I grinned sheepishly and once again, found myself following Nick.

We came up to the back entrance, which was on the other side of the building, and no wonder; through the door you could hear the chaos that was the kitchen.

"I'm going in," I told Nick, sliding the door open and slinking into the kitchen.

It was nearing lunchtime, so luckily the kitchen staff were too busy scrambling to ready the next crab cake to care about me.

Except one.

"Pardon me, but you seem to be a bit lost, little lady," a red-haired woman commented, her tone warning. She seemed to be one of the chefs.

"Ah, not quite. I'm looking for someone," I said. She scrunched her eyebrows.

"And who might that be?"

"Luca?" I questioned more than answered, a bit unsure if she would know him (doubtful), but more so because I didn't know his last name.

Immediately her face darkened.

"Now you better run along now. I don't want any trouble in my kitchen." She began ushering me out.

"Oh, no. You don't understand," I began, hoping we could become allies. "We're not friends. In fact," I leaned in, "we're enemies."

At this, she paused. I could see her eyes churning in debate; kick me out, or, let me wreak havoc on Luca. I decided I would help tip the scale.

"I know you've got a big kitchen to run, and a lot of customers to serve, but I promise it'll only take a minute." I revealed the wig from behind my back. "I'm just going to give him back his property."

"A wig?" She probably thought I was crazy.

"Oh yes, you see he took it from one of the club members and put it in my bag hoping for me to take the blame and get in trouble. I'm just returning it to the proper criminal. He'll probably claim innocence, but I think we all know who the true culprit is."

"I see." She smiled, glad someone was able to balance the scales. "Well just be quick about it. I don't want you hanging around after."

She pointed me in the direction of the staff's lockers and with a quick thanks, I was on my way.

In a matter of a few minutes I had found his locker, stashed the wig in his lunch bag, and made my escape. Now all he would have to do was say that he had no idea where it came from and fall perfectly into my trap.

And so the battle continues.

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Hope y'all enjoyed! Probably one of my favorite chapters to date...

❤️ Rose