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The morning fiasco at the market was only the beginning of the disaster.
“Where the hell are they?” I yell at Lena, as if it’s her fault one of the line cooks and our dishwasher didn’t show up.
“I don’t know, but let me get someone to fill in.” She walks to the board where we have the number of the temp agency.
“To fill in? To fill in on a night like this? Are you out of your mind?” If I don’t get my heart rate under control, we won’t need anyone filling in. We’ll close.
“I’ll call the temp agency, and when you have any other suggestions we’ll try that.”
It’s only the beginning of the lunch hour and the kitchen is a mess. The orders are coming in, and if I ever needed a drink in the past sixteen years, it’s right now.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…” Sharon, the new floor manager selected by Blue, comes running, almost colliding with a server carrying three plates. “Two of my staff called in sick. They won’t be coming tonight.”
“Fuuuuuck!” I yell and throw a bowl of gravy across the kitchen. It sprays the tiles and drops with a loud clank, but it only creates a mess. No relief.
Mila and Blue dash in from the dining room.
“What’s going on?” Blue asks, and Sharon whine-repeats what she’s just told me.
My eyes dart to Blue. She’s good under pressure. She nods to Mila, who immediately drags Sharon out of the kitchen. “We’ll get backups, no worries,” Mila chirps with a smile before the door closes.
Blue returns her eyes to me. “Mila takes care of the front. If she doesn’t find anyone, Sharon will serve and I’ll be at the door while Mila schmoozes with the media.”
It’s not only her words, but also the composed way she takes control. Everything about her in this moment, and all the other moments leading to tonight, regulates my breathing. I need this woman in my life.
She removes the distance between us, her heels clicking loudly as everyone stops what they’re doing to stare. We are half an inch apart, but it feels like she consumed the entire room with the sole purpose of getting me refocused.
“Sharon made a mistake by running in here. I’ll talk to her so she understands it’s her responsibility to come to you with solutions, not problems. The veal smells divine. I think the new menu is better than the tuna one.” She squeezes my hand and turns to Lena. “Have we filled the missing staff here?”
How she knows what’s happening here is beyond me, but fuck I’m grateful.
“I got a dishwasher coming in half an hour, but I think we’ll have to do with one man down here”—she gestures toward the range with her head, not a sign of stress in her voice—“and I’m sure we can manage.” She raises her eyebrows and all the other cooks nod. “Can’t we?” she challenges and they yay in unison, returning to work promptly.
This finally snaps me from my anger-induced stupor and I start shouting commands, reassigning duties, so we can manage the evening without a hitch.
I catch Blue’s smile before she leaves the kitchen, and I know everything is going to be all right.
But I’m wrong. So wrong.
Several hours later, I stand in the middle of a silent kitchen. It’s my biggest fear and failure all wrapped in one. The first seating was half an hour ago and the restaurant has remained deserted.
No one dares to speak. I could hear my breathing, that’s how pronounced the silence is. The kitchen has never been this silent, even when I’m here alone in the morning.
I don’t want to go up front and face Blue, whose idea this event was. But as the clock ticks, drilling a hole in my brain, I have no other choice but to venture out, taking with me my murdered dignity and pride.
Blue stands at the entrance with her back to me, tapping her heel nervously. Phillip sits at the bar and Mila paces in circles, typing on her phone. The staff waits in the shadows, avoiding my eyes as soon as I enter.
If things were different, I would just yell at the two women and fire them and then yell some more. But I don’t want to yell at Blue. I don’t want to accuse her of whatever has happened here tonight. We have just rekindled our relationship, and I don’t want our work to loom over it like a thunderous cloud.
But it always will. My work willalwaysbe a part of me, and as much as I’ve tried to find balance over the past few weeks, this place matters to me. Not as much as Blue, but I’m not complete without it either.
The door chimes and Blue steps back.
“Oh, hey Gina, are we early?” My brother, Gio, with his long-legged, platinum blond with fake boobs and unnaturally puffed-up lips companion enters. He takes in the room and the mood. “Shit.”
Everyone stills for a moment and then I bark, “Seat the guests.” It’s Blue’s responsibility tonight, but I don’t look at her when I speak. She doesn’t move, but Sharon finds her groove finally and rushes to take care of my brother and his guest.
“Open for the walk-ins right now. Stand someone outside to offer a free drink or something,” I say to Phillip, and then I turn to Mila. “You better fucking hope the place fills up,” I hiss, but she seems distracted, staring at Gio. For once, her phone is not in front of her face. What the fuck?
