Rosie and Edelgarde ate after they’d served their last tables. Jo Ann stuck around to make sure everything was okay with the customers while they enjoyed their dinners. Bill fed them the same as what he’d served Jo Ann and Kalista.
They sat in back, out by Kalista. While they ate, since there were no more orders, Bill came out and got himself a coffee. This was on top of the espresso Jimmy had brought for him when he’d gotten the chance.
Bill fed Caesar the same food. He had a good mind to just give him the regular sauce they served in the room on a regular basis. It would have been good enough because it was good and it was high quality. But the sauce he’d made simply by adding a reduction to the basic sauce was eons better.
At the last minute, not for any kind of appeasement or anything of that nature, but simply because he reasoned there was no need to start anything, especially needlessly and especially since it appeared he’d already won with Caesar, he put his sauce on the roast tenderloin. Caesar picked up his plate and went off to eat.
Jimmy G and Bill went straight into clean-up. As it was, it was already late and they were not getting out until an hour past their usual time. This meant by the time they got home it would almost be time to turn around and head back in.
No dilly dallying this night. Since the room was closed and no new orders would be coming in, they could wrap everything, break down everything, load their cart and head off. And that’s what they were about doing. Bill turned off the broiler. Jimmy cut off the fryers and the steam table. They set the film between them and each did their thing.
“Ya,” Jimmy said, “we did more than ever before tonight.”
“How do you know?” Bill asked.
“Cause I’ve been here a long time and I’ve never seen it like this.”
Rosie confirmed what Jimmy G said. On her way back from eating, she stopped at the kitchen entrance and told them they’d done two hundred-two covers, a new record. She knew this, she said, not because Caesar would share it, but because Jo Ann had gone over to the tally sheet and counted up the markings. There was no doubt about it. Two-o-two and no complaints that anyone knew of. She said, even after they’d tipped the busboys they all made a fortune. Especially this night when they were all extra dependent upon each other they’d pooled their tips.
“Buy you a drink when we get out of here,” Rosie said.
“Love to,” Bill said, “but I’m back for the breakfast banquet.”
“Well, how about tomorrow?”
“Long day tomorrow.”
“Well, we’ll find a time.”
“I’m sure.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“We never did get to swap info.”
“No. But we can play tomorrow if you like.”
“Play what?”
“Tit for tat. Isn’t that the game we have going?”
“You bet. I didn’t forget.”
“Wanna see what I have in mind?” Rosie asked.
“Why? You wanna show me?”
“Not here,” Rosie said. “Meet you at the rest rooms.”
“Another time,” Bill said.
“Sure,” Rosie said.
Everyone having eaten and the last of the diners trickling out of the room, they all worked. Caesar closed out his paperwork and did his cash register tabulations. The waitresses, as is the rule everywhere, cleaned off all the tables and re-set them with clean linens and fresh silverware. As best they could with the supplies they had, they filled the service stations too so that the entire room was readied for the next day.
Jimmy G and Bill, having loaded the cart and wrapped their tools—tonight was the night the tools went to the banquet chef for sharpening—said good night and headed on their way back to the main kitchen.
Caesar stayed quiet. The girls counted their tips.
