Day two.
Bill parked his car on the loading dock and headed inside through the employee entrance.
Déjà vu.
Paul, the fat old security guard, met Bill at the door. He was standing inside, right by the door. He said hello to Bill and this time didn’t bother to lead him to the time clock window.
Inside the window, Steven asked Bill his number. Bill told him. He got Bill’s card and gave it to him. Bill punched himself in, gave the card back to Steven. This was the routine and now Bill knew.
Bill walked alone on toward the main kitchen where he saw people at work. Victor and Jimmy Banquet Chef were by the rotary oven. They weren’t doing anything, just kind of watching what was going round every now and then, as Bill could see while he approached them. Every so often they looked inside.
“Yasou,” Victor called out. “Tikanis?”
“You say Eímai kalá,” Jimmy Banquet Chef said. “It means you’re good.” He laughed. “You can just say kalá if you want.”
“Eímai kalá, Bill said. “What you looking at in there?”
“Couple of prime ribs and some chickens roasting,” Jimmy said. “Nothing much.”
“You should go straight to the locker room,” Victor said. “Then to the laundry. See your little girlfriend Millie.”
“She’s waiting for you,” Jimmy Banquet Chef said in his nasal voice. He slapped Victor, his uncle, on the back.
“Good to be young,” Victor said.
“When you’re changed, come up here,” Jimmy Banquet Chef said. “We’re cooking chicken for us. And I’m counting on you for that breakfast banquet.”
“I’ll be there,” Bill said.
“You know how to get to the locker room?” Victor asked.
“I’ll find it,” Bill said.
And he did, after a few wrong turns.
He went to the locker that he’d chosen, one next to Jimmy’s. Today he brought a combination lock and so after he’d taken out his dirty uniform, he locked the locker and headed off to see Millie.
Millie was sitting reading a comic book when he got there. He could see her behind her counter off to the side. She was sitting on a metal folding chair, in her laundry dress, like a house dress, more or less. She had bobby socks and bedroom slippers on her feet.
Bill dropped his soiled uniform on the counter. Only when he did this did she hear him there. She quickly tucked the comic book away and stood up.
“Thirty-four, thirty-two,” Millie said. She sidled up to her counter, a little too sexually maybe, and leaned herself on her elbows on it. “Hey, honey,” she said.
“Hey doll,” Bill said. He smiled at her, noted her lips were painted dark purple. He liked that. He’d liked it on Mary’s dark chocolate skin and he liked it on Millie’s cinnamon, darkish-cinnamon, skin. “You look pretty,” he said.
Millie stood upright and spun herself around. “Think so?”
“You bet.”
“How pretty?”
“On a scale of one to ten? Absolutely edible.”
“Oh yeah?”
“You bet.”
“Mmm,” Millie said. She looked at Bill dreamily. “I will if you will.” She laughed. “I will even if you won’t.”
“Will what?” Bill asked.
“Will whatever. Wherever. Whenever.”
“Good to know.”
“And I know places to go too.”
“Bet you do.”
“Don’t think I flirt like this with everyone,” Millie said. “I ain’t easy and I don’t mess around a lot. But you’re pretty,” she said. “There, I said it.” She ran her tongue around her lips. Then she blushed a full crimson.
“Come here,” Bill said. He signaled for her to lean over the counter, and when she did, he leaned in and whispered something in her ear, his lips as close to her ear as Rosie’s were to his the night before.”
