Rina Strelnicov a Toby Wakefield story Chapter 10
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High school for me had always been easy but people always told me, “Wait ‘til you get into college.” Having been there only at Johns Hopkins a couple of weeks I found, while there was more work and the reading assignments more intense because my father suggested I take a speed-reading class when I was in the ninth grade, I became quite proficient at it. So far, I found the educational concepts in college a natural progression from high school, so I didn’t have to labor over my homework like so many of my classmates. Besides, I had been blessed with a mind like a sponge.
Working at Sig’s was more than just a job, it was a job requiring arduous work. I liked working hard so it suited me well. Being physically attracted to my boss Samantha Onassis made it more of a pleasure. It was my second Saturday at Sig’s when Samantha with her perpetual smile said, “Is it the work Tobe or is it just because you want a little more money in your paycheck?”
I like the work,” I said. “It’s different than being a yard boy and handyman at St. Bart’s. I like how much goes on here and frankly, I like watching the way you handle things at the diner.”
“So, have you figured out if you are learning things at Hopkins yet?
“Going to class is great Sam and I’m learning a lot of book-wise. But at Sigs’ I’m learning how people interact and how to deal with problems in the workplace.”
“And you figured that out by working just one Saturday?”
Samantha loved the restaurant business. She had grown up in it, watching her father run the store and dealing fairly and businesslike with his employees and customers, many of whom were fixtures in their regular stools or booths. She also knew that diners such as Sig’s were at the bottom of the employment ladder, entry-level for much of society where people got their start and moved on. It was a haven for drifters who could work and move on when they had a few dollars in their pockets. It was even a place where convicted lawbreakers could find a place to work after serving their term. Having employed high school and college kids she knew it could be a place where they earned minimum wage while learning that hard work could get them somewhere. Sigs was the fabric of Samantha’s life. With her father retired in Florida she was now the brains of the organization which was the means for her family to maintain their existence. Sigs was the air she breathed completely with smoke and the smell of bacon grease and onions.
“I’ve worked before I was old enough to get my work permit Sam and have always preferred it to be idle. People have always complimented me on my work which has always made me feel good. Besides, I like working for you.”
Though she liked what I said she shot back, “And where did you pick up that line of BS young man?”
I wasn’t sure whether it was a compliment or if she was being critical. From the time I got the job at St. Bart’s, I knew women liked me. At St. Bart’s I worked for and with only women. They oversaw the convent that hired me. And the women who worked at St. Bart’s were not the kind of women most people were accustomed to dealing with. Most would say nuns had no interest in men. I found it to be true in a general sense. But like most women, they were interested in what I had between my legs. From what I had been learning in a psychology course I was taking at Hopkins my male pheromones combined in a mystical fashion that paired well with most women’s.
“It’s not BS Sam, your employees like you. You treat them as equals rather than underlings, you work alongside them rather than over them. Plus, you’re fun to be with.”
With sparkling eyes and her customary smile, she said, “BS or not thanks for the compliment.”
“Now that we have an idea what my BS might be about Sam I’m wondering if you can give me more hours.”
“You’re working almost all the available hours on Saturday and Sunday Tobe, what are you looking for?”
“Maybe I can come in after class on Fridays.”
“Are you sure it won’t interfere with your studies? I would hate for you to flunk out because you spent too many hours at Sig’s.”
“School’s easy for me Sam always has been. I’ve been keeping up with my assignments and the lectures make sense. GEEZE Sam, you sound like my mother rather than my boss.”
It was like I had slapped her in the face. “I’m not ANYBODY’S Mother Toby, never will be. But I would rather have you as an employee supplementing your income rather than one who flunked out of school. Tell you what, you’ll be getting some tests soon. Bring me a test from each one of your classes. If they show you are doing well, I’ll go along with it.”
“You’re even harder than my mom.”
“Just bring me the tests.”
Samantha puzzled me. The way she went apeshit when I produced the frozen custard idea and the amount of time she spent with me that first night, even walking me back to my apartment, I got the idea she wanted to spend the kind of time Sister Natalie did with me. Her demeanor gave me every indication she was interested in me that way. She was younger my favorite nun, true, and certainly extremely attractive. I thought she might have had compunction about socializing with employees or prospective ones. No doubt my attitude was being influenced by her being so much closer to my age and being quite attractive as well. I was misreading her completely. At the same time, she had treated me deferentially from the get-go. Then there was this new concern that I wouldn’t blow educational work opportunities. It was because she was an independent businesswoman that made her more controlling. But Sister Natalie wasn’t an independent businessperson and she treated me much the same. I realized I had more experience with women than many guys I knew but still I had a lot to learn about them.
On the Wednesday before my third Saturday, I came into Sig’s at five o’clock to show Sam my tests. But when I got there, she took me by the hand and said, “I have something to show you.” Leading me to the backroom she pointed to a large object in a wooden crate. VOILA,” she said, “Our new frozen custard machine.”
Hugging me tightly she said, “Because of you Toby Wakefield Sig’s is going into the Frozen Custard Business.” She kept hugging me and swaying me back and forth. “I love you to death Tobe, do you realize that?” She kissed me on the lips ... not an enthusiastic open-mouthed kiss, but a very nice one that took my breath away. Looking me in the eye she asked, “Is that the reason you stopped in?”
I laughed and said, “How would I have even known?”
“Yeah,” she said, “I don’t even know why I said it.” She grinned and added, “Maybe you have a second sense.”
“Un uh, I don’t think so.”
“For what?” she said with a leering grin.
With my hardening penis trapped between my legs, I couldn’t tell her what was really on my mind. “I’ve brought my tests to show you.” Reaching in my bookbag I produced the sheaf of papers and handed them to her.
Leafing through them she, looked up and said, “I guess this is one thing you’re not bullshitting me about.” They were all A’s. As she gazed deeply into my eyes, I could see more than respect and appreciation in hers. It was the same kind of look both Sister Natalie and Rina Strelnicov used to cast my way. But instead of kissing me again she playfully slapped my face and said, “You’re something, Toby Wakefield.” Assessing me shrewdly she added, “I promised to consider your request for more hours. You can work from five to ten on Wednesdays. In addition to that, the foreman at the custard machine company said he would install it on Saturday night.”
“That must be going to cost you an arm and a leg,” I said.
“In a sense,” she answered, “I’ve paid for it dearly. The machine alone cost $150. Harley Norton has agreed to install it gratis. I’m familiar with the machine and how to use and clean it—I’ve worked our custard stands before. It’s only twelve inches wide and thirty inches tall ... runs on a regular 110-volt current. It can make thirty quarts of custard in a day.”
Though she didn’t explain to me how she convinced Harley Norton to install it for free on a Saturday night it didn’t take much noodling to understand that it would cost her more than a lot. It had cost both arms, both legs, and the rest of her body that she shared with Norton the previous Saturday night. Though I had no proof of that I would find out through the years how Samantha Onassis conducted business by using creative means.
“So,” she said, “I know it is a lot to ask Tobe, but would you be willing to work with Harley from 11:00 Saturday night until he’s finished installing it? He says it will take him about three hours to get it plumbed and all.”
“And what if something comes up where we will need a decision from you that I can’t make?”
“Let me say it this way, Toby. I know we’ve only known each other for a short time and you’re still a teenager. But I sense that you’ll be able to handle most things that might come up. I’ve worked with Harley before on his installations on our Inner Harbor and Memorial Stadium custard stands. I trust him and his judgment.”
“And if I say I can’t do it?”
“If you say you can’t do it, I’ll have to do it myself.” She looked a bit frustrated with my answer.
“I was just wondering.” I said with a grin, “I’ll be glad to do it.”
She smiled as if my answer was what she had expected but said with definite relief in her voice, “That’s what I thought you would say Toby but why did you test me that way?”
“My mentor, Sister Natalie told me I should always lay my cards on the table. I would have done it regardless but knowing you would have had to do it yourself otherwise I would never have refused to help.”
“But you’ll be getting paid.”
“I would have done if for nothing.”
“I know you would Toby. But you are working for Sig’s, and I’ll not allow that.”
With that when I saw the look, I always got from both sister Natalie and Rina Strelnicov, I knew it would only be a matter of time before Sam would offer me something cozier. Anyway, since frozen custard was my idea, I loved the fact that I would be involved in the installation. Also, I was amazed that Sam would trust me to mind the store all night by myself.
She was there until closing when Harley Norton came in. They were quite friendly when they greeted, kissing each other on the lips. I saw his hand drop to her bottom but that was it. Nonetheless, though I had no skin in the game I was jealous. She introduced the two of us. Harley said, “Sam told me we would be working together. It’ll take about three hours. You should be out of here no later than two-thirty.”
As Sam was leaving, she said, “Walk me to the door, Tobe.” I had already taken the custard machine out of the crate. “Sam will be working by himself. Unless he needs help lifting or something else from you just stand by and do what he asks.” She rolled her eyes a bit and added, “He likes to work by himself.” She was saying, “Stay out of his way.”
Just before she walked out the door she said, “I appreciate you doing this. Did you bring your books?” I told her they were in my bookbag. “Good, then maybe you will get something worthwhile out of this.”
“I’m getting paid,” I said. “Time and a half.”
“Yes, Toby but I am so glad I have someone as responsible as you to look after things. Just lock up when you leave then drop the keys in the mail slot. Oh yes, take the day off tomorrow.”
“I want to work.”
She started to say something but saw the determination in my eyes. Putting her fingers intimately on my cheek she said, “Why did I know you were going to say that? Tell you what, come in tomorrow at noon, ok?” I had made my point, so I didn’t need to answer. “Thanks again Tobe, I’m really glad you’re working here.”
She leaned in and kissed my cheek. “See you tomorrow at noon. Oh, but the sign in the window before you leave.” She pointed out the sign standing behind the cash register. It said FROZEN CUSTARD NOW AT SIG’S.
As soon as I locked the door I heard from behind the corner, “Your boss is something Toby, is it?”
“Yeah, Harley.” I resented him saying anything about Sam. Besides, I got the idea something was going on between them. Or at least something had gone on relating to him installing the machine for free late at night. I saw he had already lifted the machine onto the counter and had his tools out.
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