Sure enough, five minutes later, the hostess waved Elena over. "Table 12 needs a server," she said with a knowing smile. "And they look like big tippers."
Elena straightened her shoulders and walked over to the table. David Park was talking about some business deal, using words she didn't understand. The others were listening carefully, occasionally nodding or asking questions. When Elena approached, their conversation stopped.
"Good evening," she said with her best customer service smile. "Welcome to Romano's. Can I start you off with something to drink?"
David Park looked up at her, and for a moment, Elena felt like he was seeing right through her. His eyes were sharp, the kind that missed nothing.
"We'll have a bottle of your best red wine," he said. "Something Italian."
As Elena took their drink order, she couldn't help but glance at the piano again. It was sitting there in its usual spot, silent and waiting. For just a second, she imagined herself sitting at that bench, her fingers dancing across the keys the way they used to. She could almost hear the music in her head. When she looked back, she noticed David Park following her gaze toward the piano. Something flickered in his expression, but Elena couldn't tell what he was thinking.
The rest of the evening went normally. Elena brought their wine, took their food orders, and made sure their glasses never stayed empty. The group talked about business, laughed at inside jokes, and ate their expensive meals. They were actually pretty nice, unlike some of the rude customers she'd dealt with over the years.
But Elena kept catching David Park watching her. Not in a creepy way, but like he was trying to figure something out. Every time she walked by their table, his eyes would follow her. And every time she glanced at the piano, she noticed him looking in that direction, too.
She was clearing their dessert plates when one of David's friends made a comment about the piano. "Beautiful instrument," he said. "Shame nobody ever plays it."
"Most people can't handle a piano like that," David replied, his voice carrying across the restaurant. "It takes real skill, real training."
Elena's hands paused for just a moment as she stacked the plates. She'd played on pianos just like this one. In fact, she'd probably played pieces that would make these rich businessmen's heads spin. But that was a lifetime ago, when she was a different person with different possibilities.