Bill had seen this done in the workhouse, and it was a technique he’d learned/was continually learning. When people were not nice to you, when they were just plain continually obnoxious and it was clear they were not, maybe not ever, going to leave you alone, first kill them with kindness and second set them up every chance you can. Having more information than they did so you could set them up to look like an idiot was key.
Jimmy Banquet Chef had cooked and had sent over the food. Bill and all the Greeks had eaten happily and Bill had put away the leftovers for his girls. The girls were discovering that any and every time Bill could feed them something special he would, and unlike most other cooks, he didn’t ask for anything in return.
All in due time…
It was only a matter of time until this ran its course. Bill figured sometime tomorrow Caesar would speak to the chef. The chef would either come first to Bill about it or maybe, if he took time to think about it, he’d speak first to the banquet chef, ask him if he sent anything over. That, of course, would be borne out and would be the end of it.
Case closed.
Except Caesar would look petty and stupid.
Voila.
Turns out that Bill was not at all responsible for the increased business. Turns out that in the absence of a regular cook other than Jimmy G business had fallen off markedly such that the chef, in coordination with the food and beverage manager, had advertised. They had taken out a half-page ad in the Cleveland paper and run it three days straight. They had not done it because Bill was coming. Timing of the ad was purely coincidental. Fortunately or unfortunately, Bill had started work just after the ad had run.
Since they’d never advertised before, no one had any clue as to what would happen. The only thing that worked out really well was that they were fortunate enough to get a cook who could handle the business they brought in. Lucky.
Thursday was another new record with the room. They did two hundred-two the night before, a record, and two-thirty-six this night, another new record.
“Jesus,” Edelgarde said when finally most of the tables had been served and she and Rosie could take a short break to eat. “What you got for us?” She asked.
“Come back in about three minutes,” Bill said.
Fixing the tenderloin tips for two was exactly the same as doing it for one. Bill did it exactly as he’d done for Jo Ann, made them the same exact plates as Jo Anne’s was. He set the plates up under the warmer lights and went about his work. He saw Caesar pass by to see what he was fixing Rosie and Edelgarde, made a mental note not to say anything to him no matter what he said. But Caesar didn’t say anything. He stood a little off to the side where Bill figured he figured Bill could see what he was doing. Standing there, he took out a little pocket notebook and wrote himself a note.
Words are the best weapons, Bill thought as he saw Caesar writing. But there was nothing Caesar could be writing in that book that could be bad for Bill. Bill knew what Caesar didn’t and he hadn’t done anything wrong.
Rosie and Edelgarde came for their dinners together. They both saw Caesar standing where he was so they didn’t say anything other than to ask if the meals were for them. Bill told them they were and the girls, rapidly becoming his girls, all three of them were, went off to have their dinners.
Together, he and Jimmy ran out the rest of the board and when nothing else was working, Bill left the kitchen and went off the rest room. When he came back they had espresso and started doing what they could in advance to begin closing up.
