All the Way by Jennifer Probst Page B

wool jacket, leather shoes, and fedora gripped his cigar in his teeth and managed to spit. “Bull. Sixties ruled. Sinatra took over as main leader, and Dean and Sammy came to play. That’s who the public really remembers.”
    Gavin’s father raised his voice and threw a card in the middle. “Agreed. Ocean’s Eleven brought the whole buddy movie into the spotlight. No one is better than the second crew and that’s the end of it.”
    The last member in the threesome lost his temper. Dressed in a wife-beater T-shirt, old man’s pants, and footgear that resembled slippers, his face reddened in fury. “Did you just say that to me? Did you? Ocean’s Eleven did not make the buddy movie popular! Marlon Brando and James Dean brought that element of coolness into the fifties. Anyway, Bogie has always been named the greatest actor. Sinatra couldn’t act to save his life.”
    Gavin’s father stood up from the table. His whole body shook as if with fever, and Miranda held her breath, not sure what to do. Rage peppered his words. “You will never speak that way about Frank again. Get out! Out of my restaurant!”
    Miranda mashed her hand against her lips, caught between giggling and breaking up a cockfight.
    Gavin swooped in. Red stains splattered his apron and crusted his black pants. Sweat trickled from his brow and matted the lone curl that spilled across his forehead. Stress carved out the lines of his face and bracketed his mouth. Fascinated, the scene unfolded before her.
    “Okay, boys, enough Grappa for tonight. Pop, sit down, Cosmo didn’t mean it. Did you, Cosmo?”
    The other man gave a humph. “Tell him to stop slandering Bogey and I’ll stop with Frank.”
    Gavin plucked the bottle of white liquid from the table, and stabbed out their cigars. “Pop, cut it out with torturing Cosmo. You’ve seen Casablanca and The Maltese Falcon a million times.”
    “Maybe.”
    The friction eased. He waved his hand frantically through the air as smoke wafted to the main dining room. “If anyone here lights one more cigar, you’re outta here. I don’t need a citation or face closing down the place for breaking the smoke laws. Bogey and Sinatra respected and cared about each other. Fighting over them is a crime.”
    Cosmo grunted in agreement. “Giovanni is right. I apologize. We should never pit the rat pack against each other. It is a betrayal of all that was good.”
    Vinnie and Gavin’s father nodded their head. The tension eased, and they were once again a group of friends playing cards. “Let’s switch to five card stud. Ante up, gentlemen. Giovanni, can we get some tiramisu for the table?”
    “Sure, be right back.”
    Gavin hurried forward with a worried expression. “Miranda, I’m so sorry. I meant to take you home, but one of the new waiters got into Tony’s station and there was a slight gravy fight I’m trying to help clean up.”
    “A gravy fight?”
    Gavin groaned. “Tony is very possessive of his ingredients. One of the customers complained it needed more heat, so the new waiter tried to sneak back and put in pepper. Tony caught him. A food fight ensued. I need some ingredients from the storeroom, and now I’m down a waiter since the new guy just took off.”
    “Isn’t there salt and pepper on the tables already?”
    He winced. “Tony refuses to allow it. Said his food is always cooked to perfection and no other seasoning is needed. We’ve tried sneaking it on the tables a few times, but he always catches it.”
    Miranda studied the man before her. The composed, multi-millionaire, cutthroat advertising executive had transformed into a regular guy babysitting his family and trying to save the restaurant he didn’t even want to work in.
    A strange warmth bubbled up inside her and melted the wall of ice. “Well, then, I guess I better get to work. Do you have a spare apron?”
    He shook his head. “Hell, no, you are not going to waitress tonight. I’ll manage and take you home in a