The Big Gamble - Michael Mcgarrity [67]
From her sister’s wardrobe Ramona had selected a gray, midcalf skirt, a half-sleeve charcoal cowl-neck sweater, and black pumps. In Cassie Bedlow’s office she sat quietly while the woman reviewed her enrollment application.
“You didn’t answer one question,” Bedlow said, looking up from the papers.
Ramona shifted her weight and dropped her head. “I didn’t want to lie,” she said, “so I left it blank.”
“Well, have you ever been arrested?” Bedlow asked.
“Is it that important?” Ramona asked.
“I don’t expect my students to be perfect, Ramona,” Bedlow replied gently. “But I do need to know if you have a criminal record. If you do, it doesn’t necessarily disqualify you from enrolling.”
“Once,” Ramona said in a small voice. “I was arrested once.”
“For?”
Ramona stood. “I shouldn’t be here, wasting your time.”
Bedlow waved her hand, palm down, in a gesture for Ramona to sit. “This isn’t an interrogation, and you’re not wasting my time, dear. We just need to be honest with each other.”
Ramona stayed standing. “You’d give me a tuition loan, even though I’ve been arrested?”
Bedlow laughed lightly. “I might be willing to take a chance on you. People make mistakes. You didn’t murder anyone, did you?”
Ramona reclaimed her seat. “Oh no, I was arrested for possession of cocaine.”
“Tell me what happened.”
Ramona laid out the story; her ex-husband had been a heavy user who always had her carry his stash. One night while they were going home, he’d been stopped and arrested for driving under the influence.
“We were both pretty high,” she added. “They found the cocaine in my purse. Just a little bit. It was my first offense. I pled guilty and paid a fine.”
“Were you high on cocaine?”
“Yes,” Ramona answered in a tiny voice.
“Do you still use it?”
“No.”
“Are you drug free?” Bedlow asked.
“Not completely,” Ramona said, looking away from Bedlow. “I sometimes smoke a little weed. I drink, but not a lot, and sometimes I take a sleeping pill at night.”
Bedlow smiled sympathetically. “That doesn’t make you a major criminal.”
“I guess not,” Ramona said with a weak smile.
“Have you found a job yet?”
Ramona put on a dejected face. “I’ve been offered a part-time sales position. But I wouldn’t get enough hours to even pay my rent.”
“Have you ever worked as a waitress?”
“Before I got married, I did.”
“Let’s see what we can do,” Bedlow said. “I have a friend who owns a club, and he’s always looking for pretty girls to work for him. It’s an upscale sports bar and restaurant, with an all-girl waitstaff. You’d have to wear scanty shorts and a low-cut halter top, but the girls make great tips.”
Ramona perked up and looked animated. “That wouldn’t bother me, especially if I could make some good money.”
“If I asked, I’m sure he’d be willing to schedule you to work nights so it doesn’t interfere with classes.”
“That’s perfect. I’m a night owl anyway.”
Bedlow wrote out the name of the bar, the owner’s name, and the address of the establishment. “He’s usually there around noon,” she said, handing Ramona the information. “I’ll give him a call to say you’re coming to talk to him.”
“Oh, I hope he hires me,” Ramona said.
“I think your chances are excellent,” Bedlow replied.
“Thank you so much,” Ramona said.
Jeff Vialpando was waiting when Ramona got to the Nob Hill eatery. The lunch crowd hadn’t arrived yet and the waitstaff was standing around the bar chatting. The place had a rustic, antique feel to it, with lots of dark wood and reproductions of old advertising signs on the walls. He stood up as she approached the table.
“I guess we don’t have much time,” he said as he pulled out a chair for her.
“Forty-five minutes,” Ramona replied, checking her watch.
“You handled Bedlow very well,” Jeff said, returning to his seat.
“Thank you. But I thought we were going to talk about your dog.”
“That will have to wait for another time,” Jeff replied.