Victor was stocky and gruff. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, had a gray stubble on his face.
“I’ll walk with you,” he said.
They walked together, mostly in silence. Finally, just before they got to where Kalista’s pantry station was, Victor said, “Don’t give Caesar a thought. He tries that with everyone. The chef will put him in place.”
“He’s an asshole,” Bill said.
“Big time,” Victor said. Then he had a big, long conversation in Greek with Kalista. This would be the norm. Bill would see it again and again.
All the while Victor and Kalista spoke, Kalista was busy, or she busied herself. She was making a big Greek salad which when it was done she served to Jimmy G., Victor and Bill.
That salad was magnificent, everything in it that was supposed to be in it and more. She divided it into four big plates, one to send back with Victor for little Jimmy.
Bill watched Jimmy and Victor dig in with relish. He did too. They ate, Kalista and Victor talked, they ate some more. Jimmy told Bill that later he would have him cook a steak for Kalista.
“We’re all family here,” Jimmy said. “You’ll see.”
“And you’ll be part of us,” Victor said.
“Yes,” Kalista said. “I like you stand up to Caesar.” He smiled at Bill. “I make you salad any time.” She gave Bill a big smile.
While they were eating and talking, Caesar came through the double doors. He didn’t say anything, looked their way, walked past them on his way to the chef’s office. Bill thought he didn’t appear too happy.
When Caesar was gone Jimmy and Victor laughed a scoffing laugh. Then with the same relish they all had at first, they finished eating. Bill drew himself a diet soda from the tap. Jimmy and Victor drank lemonade. Kalista drank hot tea.
“The room opens five-thirty, Jimmy said. “We go back soon, make sure everything is set up and ready.”
They sat. They smoked. Victor told Bill that Jimmy the banquet Chef liked him already and hoped he would come to work banquets when he could. That would actually happen later in the week when they had a small luncheon banquet, only six-hundred people. Bill would get his first taste of grand ballroom cooking and kitchen service and his first of many days of overtime. By then, really by the end of the second night’s dinner service, much to Caesar’s dismay, the chef would know that Bill was a keeper. By the third night’s work, Bill would be doing a lot of the service all by himself.
Back in the small kitchen, after they’d checked that everything was set, Jimmy sat himself on a wooden box he kept over on his side of the kitchen. Bill cleaned and brushed the grills, set several garnishes where he wanted them, where he was sure they were in his reach.
Everything done, he looked out into the dining room. He saw Jo Ann and the two other women. They were going systematically over every table to make sure they were properly set and everything on them was perfectly straight. He watched them work, most particularly he watched them as they leaned over toward him and he could see their bosoms, full, ample bosoms clearly and purposefully on display. Even better, he watched as they bent over away from him where he could see all the way up their uniforms, could see the little panty-pants under the tiny skirts that barely covered their butts.
He decided he was going to like this gig.
