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Interesting. If they were short a busser, why had she objected to Julia hiring him? But he smiled and said, “Thanks, Carole. I appreciate it.”
She nodded, then turned and headed toward the podium near the front door.
Five hours later, at the tail-end of the dinner rush, Nico was clearing a table when he saw one of the servers -- Ruth, he thought -- carrying a tray of four meals to a table. He slipped his hand into his pocket and clicked four times on the small counting device he’d hidden there. He was pretty sure he’d counted every meal that had come out of the kitchen so far.
As he carried the heavy tray of dirty dishes into the kitchen, Carole followed him. “Nico, we have a spill at table 12. Could you clean it up, please?”
“Sure, Carole,” he said, unloading the tray at the dishwashing station. He glanced around for Julia. Saw her talking to Delia.
As if she felt his gaze, she lifted her head. Met his gaze, and Nico swallowed. Even a small exchange of glances across a busy, crowded room made his heart beat faster. He took a deep breath to steady himself, then nodded to Julia.
A tiny smile curled up the corners of her mouth.
Looking away quickly, before anyone noticed their unspoken communication, Nico slid the used tray onto a rack to be cleaned and followed the hostess into the dining room.
He spotted the mess immediately. A toddler had tossed his sippy cup and handfuls of orange fish crackers onto the floor. What looked like apple juice had leaked out of the cup, creating an orange-y paste on the floor that someone had already stepped in.
Nico grabbed a couple of ‘wet floor’ signs and put them at either end of the spill, then went to get a bucket and mop and rags. When the mother apologized for her son, Nico smiled. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “That’s why we have hardwood floors. Easy to clean up. He’s not the first kid to spill something at Madeline’s.”
In five minutes, he’d cleaned the floor. Nico put the bucket and mop away, dropped the dirty rags on the washing machine, and went back to the table to remove the wet floor signs.
When he arrived, the woman held out her hand. “Thanks again,” she said quietly. “For not making a big deal about it.”
Nico saw bills in her hand, and shook his head. “You don’t have to do that,” he said. “I was happy to clean it up.”
The mother blinked at him and managed to smile. “I’d feel better if you took it.”
Nico had noticed that she and her husband hadn’t ordered anything to drink besides water. Their entrees had been the cheapest on the menu, and they hadn’t ordered sides, salads or desserts. He smiled and stepped away. “I really appreciate that. But we’re happy you were able to come to Madeline’s tonight, and that little spill wasn’t a big deal.” He nodded at their toddler. “Put it in his college fund instead.”
The mother stared at him for a long moment, then smiled, her shoulders relaxing. “Thanks,” she murmured. “I’ll do that.”
Nico smiled back, turned and walked away. But the spot between his shoulder blades burned, and he knew someone was watching him.
He figured it was the mother. But when he glanced over his shoulder, he saw it was Carole, watching him with an unreadable expression. He nodded at the hostess and went back to work. He wished he could read her mind. Was she pleased that he’d refused the tip? Or did it make her suspicious of him?
As he was replacing the wet floor signs, she came up behind him. He turned to face her. “Hey, Carole.”
“Why didn’t you take that tip, Nico?” she asked in a low voice. “If you can afford to turn down tips, you don’t need to work six days a week.”
“I can’t afford it, Carole. But cleaning up is part of my job,” he said, wondering why she was making an issue of a generous gesture. “And I suspect that couple could barely afford to eat here, let alone pay me for cleaning up their kid’s mess.” He shrugged. “I was looking to the future. Exchanged their tip today for more tips in the future when I’m a server. You know they’ll remember me, right? Maybe if I’m a server, they’ll ask for me next time they’re here.” He shrugged. “I exchanged a few dollars for their goodwill toward Madeline’s.”
“You don’t own the place,” Carole said, as if bewildered. “So why does it matter to you?”
Wow.Nico wondered what Julia would say if she could hear this conversation. But instead of attacking Carole’s lack of grace, he said smoothly, “Like I said, I’m hoping to move up to server. And when I do, my tips will reflect how people feel about Madeline’s and our service. Letting a busser take money for that small job wouldn’t reflect well on the restaurant.”
Carole’s eyes narrowed. “Worrying about the restaurant’s reputation isn’t your job.”
“Really?” Nico said, frowning as if bewildered. “I thought it was everyone’s job. It was at every other restaurant I’ve ever worked at.”
The tips of Carole’s ears turned red. She pressed her lips together, spun around and walked away.
Nico waited a moment, then got back to work. Carole’s attitude wouldn’t be tolerated at most restaurants. And if she’d worked at restaurants before Madeline’s, she had to know that.
What was going on with her?
Three hours later, when Delia left the restaurant, Nico waited until he heard her car pull out of the parking lot. Then he went in search of Julia.
She was in her office, sitting at her desk, but she looked up when he walked in. “Hey, Nico. How was your shift?”
“It was good,” he said, leaning against the door frame. “Carole’s attitude was different. She apologized for not giving me tip share last night. Said I’d done a good job.” He frowned. “But we had an interesting conversation later on.” He told Julia about the spill, and Carole’s opinion that it wasn’t part of his job to be concerned about the restaurant’s reputation.
Julia narrowed her eyes. “Really? I’ve made it clear to her that protecting Madeline’s reputation is part of her job. I’ll have a talk with her.”
“Maybe wait until we have this theft problem straightened out,” he said, brushing his fingers over hers. The spark of electricity made him snatch his hand back and curl his fingers into his palm. That wasn’t something he could think about.
“You can deal with it afterward,” he managed to say. If his suspicions about Carole were correct, she’d be gone soon anyway. He nodded at the computer she’d just closed. “You have a meal count?”
