Kalista could tell stories. Kalista knew all about the men in her family. Kalista knew about some of the men in the hotel. She knew about the chef, the executive chef, and she knew about the F&B Director. They were two key people for her to know about. Not that it mattered for her job security, because it didn’t, but Jimmy G (and she knew about him too)needed protection because he was lazy and did the least amount of work possible. Worse, he didn’t care about his work.
“I know things,” she said to Bill that time she’d made the comment about men, when they were talking about the girls liking Bill and his playing around on his wife. “I know about the men and the women. Most what I know,” she said, “I’m taking to my grave.”
They were hanging out on her station. She was sitting where she always sat, in the chair she’d long ago set up on her station where she could sit when she had no orders and no work and stand to work without moving the chair when she needed to be standing. Bill was standing against the wall near the soda dispenser. He was smoking a cigarette and leaning against the wall. Jimmy G had disappeared a while ago and there were no orders mostly because it was pouring outside and no one was out in the street. They’d had a decent dinner play and had fed, as Bill figured it, the hotel guests who were dining-in due to the rain.
“You’re the matriarch,” Bill said.
“My family,” Kalista said. “Most good, some bad. Jimmy G very bad. He hates it here, wants to go home to his farm. His father is my brother and he never want to come to America. But he send his boy with me because they needed money and he wanted his boy to have a better life.”
“Does he have a better life?” Bill asked.
“Yes. But he doesn’t think so. He has a wife and two kids. I think he’s not happy at home. If he was in Greece he’d be on the farm all day. Better for him.”
“He get married here?”
“Big Greek wedding. His whole family came. That was good for me. I saw my whole family.”
“So what do you know?” Bill asked. He moved a bit closer so she didn’t have to speak out too loudly.
“I’ll never tell unless I have to. I know about my little Jimmy, but he’s good now. Victor was a bad man all the time over there. Here he is quiet. I know something about Caesar, something from before. I’m saving it until I really need it. The executive chef and F&B Director, they used to use the chef’s room for messing around. Sometimes they still do. Most of the women are gone now, but I know who they were.”
“Who knows you know?”
“They can only guess. I spend plenty of time talking to the girls. I got times and dates and phone numbers. I no let my family have a problem.”
“You’re a good woman,” Bill said.
“I protect my family. And you are becoming part of it. So I tell you, I saw Caesar do something to someone. She didn’t want it done but he did it anyway. It was very not nice, made her cry. She cried almost every time she came to work and saw him after he did it. He strut like a rooster afterward.”
Bill did not say anything. He looked at Kalista. Kalista looked back at him.
“Is enough for now. We talk again. That girl quit soon after Caesar bothered her. She needed this job. Is good job. At least,” Kalista said, “you don’t bother girls. They bother you.”
