Beverly melted under his touch, relaxed under his hands. She didn’t say anything. Bill didn’t say anything. He rubbed her shoulders, massaged her back and down her sides.
After spending a good amount of time working on her, he finished with her neck. He bid her put her head forward and lean forward so he could get a good hold of her and make his way up and down. She was verily pleased.
The last thing he did was plant one quick kiss right in the middle of her neck. Almost instantaneously he could see it gave her goosebumps.
“That was wonderful,” she said. She leaned back against him. Bill spread his legs so she could settle in. “I owe you,” she said.
“It’s okay,” Bill said. “You needed it. And I was happy to do it.”
“I guess I have my work cut out for me.”
“You’ll do what you do,” he said.
“I guess I will.”
“Just remember, no action is an action.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Beverly said. “Wanna kiss me?”
“No,” Bill said. “Well, yes I do, but no I won’t.”
“Too bad for you.”
“Yeah, but it’s right I can’t say I always do what’s right so maybe God will put up one on my plus side.”
“You’re funny,” Beverly said. She stood up, turned so she faced Bill and kissed him. “I’ll let you know with our signal for meeting again.”
“Okay. But all you’re gonna get is talk.”
“I’m okay with a friend.”
“Me too.” Bill stepped past her. “Weekend doesn’t seem too busy cause of the holiday. Don’t know about The Falstaff Room, but I’m guessing it will do okay.”
“See you when I see,” Beverly said, mostly toward Bill’s back as he started to walk off.
The Falstaff Room that weekend was moderately busy. Rosie and Edelgarde were ever themselves. Kalista still did not fill Bill in on the details of that one waitress and Caesar. Jimmy G spent most of his time out of the kitchen whenever he could and he was happy. Jimmy Banquet Chef came out by them to eat dinner both weekend nights and they all had a jovial time and ate well. He went home early both nights because this was “it” until after New Year’s. Between this weekend and the end of the year banquets were packed and reservations at The Falstaff Room were plentiful.
Toward the end of that night Rosie came by Bill when he was alone in the kitchen. It wasn’t a flirty visit and it wasn’t to ask Bill if he wanted anything. It was to warn him regarding something she’d inadvertently heard. Apparently Caesar had not given up on attempting to get Bill into some sort of trouble.
Caesar’s plan was simple. It didn’t involve the girls or Millie and it wasn’t even about the food’s not being cooked properly. Rosie told Bill she heard Caesar talking to someone on the phone and from what she could glean they were plotting to have whoever it was say that he or she’d seen Bill spit in the food.
When Rosie came out with it, with that being it, Bill laughed. His initial reaction was to say “Is that all he’s got?”
“Seems to be,” Rosie responded.
Bill didn’t say anything. He was already thinking. He was thinking, and he couldn’t exactly say why, about Mr. Jim. He was thinking about all that Mr. Jim must have gone through when he was starting out in his career, even, maybe, all the gruff he’d had to take working on the dining cars. He was thinking how Mr. Jim would probably tell him to simply make all the food great and not to worry about anything else. Everything else would take care of itself — that’s what Mr. Jim would say.
Bill wasn’t so sure but he was sure that everyone around him would take care of him. If Caesar was so stupid as to try something like that it would surely backfire.
