Bill would never understand why the girls would let Caesar scold them. He would never understand why they would put up with Caesar’s bull shit. He did not understand how the union let him do what he did. Eventually, and he’d already made a note of this, he would ask all of these questions and he would learn that some things are just better left alone.
Having said good night to Caesar, Bill found a moment to approach both Rosie and Edelgarde. He caught them in a corner of the dining room and said a polite and quiet good night. They were both doing pretty much nothing, pretty much making themselves look busy without being busy.
Edelgarde said a simple good night. Rosie stepped up close to Bill and fussed with his chef’s jacket’s collar. Bill thought she was going to kiss him. Instead she leaned in and whispered a kind of sexy good night straight into his ear, her lips so close to him that he could feel her breath. She knew she was starting something and he knew she was being effective.
The main kitchen was quiet, mostly dark. Dark did not mean black. Red exit signs and some low night-lights lit the way around.
Bill and Jimmy went happily about their closing rounds. Jimmy was jovial, clearly glad to be getting toward out-of-work. He stepped gingerly now as they made the same rounds they’d made at opening time, only this time just one go-round during which they put away everything from the cart making sure to close all walk-in boxes fully. The last thing they did was park the truck back where Jimmy had gotten it from.
That done, everything put away, the truck parked, they headed off not to the locker room but to the chef’s office where the banquet chef was.
Jimmy the Banquet Chef sat at the chef’s desk. His big chef’s hat was parked on the desk. Since they did not have a sous chef (Jacques would be hired about a year after Bill), Jimmy the banquet chef served that function. In this capacity, mostly all he had to do was be there when the chef wasn’t so if anything came up he could handle it. Technically he wasn’t management. But in the chef’s absence and with no sous chef he could make executive decisions regarding anything except hiring/firing.
Jimmy was drinking. He had a bottle of scotch and six beers, five of them unopened on the desk. First thing Jimmy G did after saying hello was grab a beer for himself and hand one to Bill. He told Bill to sit down, which he did. Bill found himself in the same seat he had been in when the chef had spoken with him earlier.
Jimmy G and Jimmy Banquet Chef spoke a moment very quickly in Greek. When they were done Jimmy G sat in the chair next to where Bill sat and Jimmy Banquet Chef looked Bill up and down.
“My aunt really likes you,” Jimmy Banquet Chef said. “She doesn’t like many people, so that’s good for you.”
Bill didn’t say anything. He noted, same as he’d noted before, the nasal sound in Jimmy’s voice.
“My cousin says you can cook,” Jimmy Banquet Chef said. “We have some stuff coming up, a breakfast later in the week early in the morning. You want to work?”
Bill looked at both Jimmies, first one then the other. Jimmy G nodded his head yes. Seeing that, Bill looked to Jimmy Banquet Chef and simply said, “Sure.”
“Nothing much,” the Banquet Chef said in his nasal way. “Scrambled eggs and sausage for about four hundred people. But you’ll make a lot of overtime. Good biscuits too.”
Jimmy G poured both Bill and himself some scotch. The three of them clinked glasses and drank. Then they all finished their beers and drank another one.
