Americano. English edition. Valeriia Isaeva

icano

      English edition

      Valeriia Isaeva

      © Valeriia Isaeva, 2020

      ISBN 978-5-0051-0738-1

      Created with Ridero smart publishing system

      Chapter 1

      Jerry Jameson

      The lecture hall was filled with students of the seminar little by little. Most of them were young men and women, who just recently came into the profession, or were just planning to make their first steps in it. The atmosphere was creative, light and relaxed. It was getting dark outside, but in the hall it was light and cozy. Someone sat in silence, some students united in small groups and talked on various topics, lively discussing the nuances of the bartender’s craft.

      The chaos stopped in a second when she entered. She attracted the eyes of a few dozens people on her way to the place where the reading of the seminar was planned.

      Jerry Jameson. A brunette of medium height, slim build, with aristocratic features of face. She had perfect posture, as if she had a crown on her head.

      Young people, as a rule, have a rebellious spirit. However, during the event, even the most active of them were hesitated to argue and prove their point of view. Gina sat still, holding her breath and listened to every word.

      At the climax of the lecture, Jerry dropped the shaker bowl from her hand and it bounced off the floor, making a distinctive echoing sound. The public gasped, but Jerry continued to speak, as if nothing had happened, as if not understanding what had caused such a reaction. She did not even pay attention to the common amazement. What was it – arrogance, or just unbreakable self-confidence?

      At the end of the event, when everyone was packing up their belongings and leaving, Jerry chained Gina to the chair on which she was sitting. There were just two people in the audience. Coming closer, Jerry dragged on a cigarette in the cigarette holder and said:

      – You know, do not listen to fools, and everything will be fine.

      Gina was taken aback. How does this woman know that Gina’s colleagues constantly make fun of her and insist that the girl has no future in the bartender’s profession?

      «You better burst out laughing them in the face,» she continued, «and show that it is better not to allow them to work. Now mores are much more liberal, I was less lucky. When I started, I met much more critics and arrogance. You will not do this in one day, but you will do this. If I, a native of Glendale, succeeded… Everything was put on the map, undoubtedly. Jerry – in honor of the legendary mixologist Jerry Thomas, Jameson – in honor of the whiskey brand. At birth me name was Hripsime Zakarian. I studied at church school, left home at sixteen. Started to work as a waiter, after two years I started my work at the bar.

      Gina listened attentively and at the same time she was confused. Why did this woman choose her among all the students and now she is talking to her?

      «Not a bad start,» Jerry grinned, seeing Gina’s condition.

      – Why did you leave home? – asked the girl, perplexed.

      The woman did not make an impression of being from a dysfunctional family.

      «I grew out of short pants,» Jerry answered meaningfully, taking another cigarette puff, «wherever I looked, there were just moralists all around, as if they descended from the pages of the Old Testament. I have been pointed fingers all my life long, and I am happy. I am glad that I live in the way the others are afraid of. I lived in society and at the same time did not want to live by it’s laws. Because a human does not belong to society. He belongs to God and to himself. And he considers only these two quantities, not anyone else.

      When I was sixteen years old, a family consisting of a father, mother and son moved to a neighboring house. They were wealthy people who had their business in trade, like my parents. Our families began to communicate on the first day of our acquaintance. I noticed their son, Raul. He was the only child in the family and he was unique. He had the appearance of Mephistopheles, as if descended from medieval engravings. Brunette, tall, thin, with piercing brown eyes. We often greeted each other when our parents gathered at our or their home in order to discuss further business development and create a common company. Raul studied at the university, he was going to be a psychologist. Perhaps because of this we developed together a whole system of non-verbal communication, with which we communicated behind the backs of our mothers and fathers.

      After a month of such communication, we began to guess the time for our dates, considering the working schedules of the parents and our studying schedules. Strict mores were… Neighbors also could not be witnesses of our dates. Thanks to the refined communication skills with gestures, facial expressions and thought signals, to which both of us responded automatically, we chose places for dating: a front garden, a backyard, a park bench hidden under heavy tree branches. Each meeting turned to us a genuine delight, we sincerely enjoyed each other’s company.

      It seemed that my mother sensed that there was a spark between Raul and me. She warned me, told me parting words, but firstly, that was useless, and secondly, our friendship was not provable. She began to complain to my father, but he refused to believe such things. However, he also designated what a girl of my age should and should not do, especially a daughter of parents like them.

      Soon my parents had to go to the neighboring town for three days. There they also had business partners with whom they had to open a trading company. Raul and me waited for this day as if it was a miracle.

      On day X, as soon as the parents left our district, my friend instantly appeared on the doorstep of our house. I opened the door, he hugged me tightly, we stood at the entrance and kissed. There was nothing to beware of, my home was my fortress, and in the next three days there will be no stranger in this territory. But you will laugh. At that outstanding moment the door opened and my father entered. He forgot some documents and returned home to pick them up. Firstly he was paralyzed, secondly he became furious. I was accused of all deadly sins. Daughter. The only one daughter. Raul was seen off with maximum intelligence. Then my mother entered. The scandal was catastrophic. I was accused of being immoral, mother shouted that no one would marry me and that I was dishonoring my origin. The news reached the parents of Raul, and then spread all over the area. I was sworn in my church school. My life turned into a nightmare. It constantly seemed to me that I was sleeping and I just had such a terrible dream, and when I wake up, it will disappear. Unfortunately, I did not wake up.

      Then I decided to run away from home, because I would not be allowed to leave it simply. Every step I took, every breath I took was under control, especially since that incident. I did not understand and did not accept such a pattern. I picked up a minimum of clothes, all my financial savings, documents, and I left the house late at night, making sure that everyone was asleep. Some days after I settled in another state, I got a job as a waiter. I earned enough money for renting a room and for food.

      As to the fact that they could put me on the wanted list, I had no concerns. I knew that if you are not afraid, then it do not happen at all. I did not sign the tenancy agreement myself and I did not sign the employment agreement with the restaurant.

      Surprisingly, I did not experience any indignation about the situation at home. Probably because being offended by someone is not of my level. The new profession captured me so much that there was no time to think about anything else. I was fascinated with my work. Even if there was a large flow of visitors, I easily managed to serve every of them. Everyone was glad, my earnings grew due to the tips. The management valued my work, but I knew that my work as a waiter was temporary. Every working day I looked at the bar counter. It seemed to me, there was another world, with its own atmosphere, there were genuine wizards and wonderful miracles took place. Yes, it was my habit to romanticize things, but, if you understand, it was a genuine miracle. I understood that this was also not an easy perspective, but the physical work did not scare me.

      I supposed that my restaurant sphere experience is still not enough to move to the position of bartender. I did not just