33. Mila
The week is easy.
I move from filing in HR to learning the software that runs the complex scheduling. It determines how many rooms are booked, and from there, provides an algorithm of how many workers we need in housekeeping, the kitchens, and in the restaurants.
Anna allocates the hours for her employees, and Filo schedules out the kitchen, room service, and bakery. The restaurant has a manager, as well as the deli. They all log in to figure out their weekly shifts.
I’ve worked with it for a couple of days when I realize there are some missing pieces.
“Suze?” I ask from the extra desk they’ve set up for me in the corner.
Suze looks up from her cell phone, where she spends way more time than I would have expected. “Yeah?” We’re alone in the office at the moment.
“The secret restaurant isn’t on here. How do you know how many workers to schedule for that?”
“Oh, it’s closed for the season. It’ll come back near the holidays when things pick up.”
“Have you been there?”
“I’ve seen it. But I can’t afford to eat there, not even with the discount.”
“Really?”
“Really. It only takes five reservations a night, and each meal is personally prepared by Chef Monique. She has two assistant chefs and there is one server and one sommelier available each night. It’s only open at dinner Thursday through Sunday when it’s in operation.”
“And it’s profitable?”
“At those prices? Yeah.”
“Like, what kind of prices?”
Suze uses her phone as a mirror to press her hand against her wild mass of hair. I try not to think of Marge Simpson’s sisters, but that’s the exact look. “I don’t think you’ll leave for less than four figures.”
“A thousand dollars?”
“Per person.”
“Whoa.” I wonder if Sebastian’s ever eaten there. I’ll have to ask.
Speaking of eating. It’s almost lunch. Sebastian and I sneaked into an unused staff apartment yesterday, one far from the intern wing.
No cameras. Nobody looking at those door key cards. He coded my ID to get in.
I’ve decided nooners are my thing.
I’m keen to get back there and meet him, but Suze says, “Jessie wants to take you to lunch in town, show you around. I asked Brooklyn and Ilsa, too. Girl’s trip, you know.”
Oh. Dang.
“Okay. Sounds fun.”
Although not as fun as getting naked with Sebastian.
I text him a quick note that I have to spend lunch with HR.
Sebastian: They aren’t nearly as fun as I am.
Me: Don’t I know it.
Sebastian: Tonight? Arya is taking an art class.
Me: Yes. Definitely.
I feel better. I know I’m on a roller coaster with a tunnel that keeps me from seeing the end, but I sure as heck am enjoying the ride.
Suze drives us all to a place called Blackbelly. As she parks in front of the brick building, she says, “Now, this isn’t hazing. Nobody’s going to make you do anything. But we are going to order a plate of crispy pig ears, and we hope you all try them.”
She glances over at Jessie in the passenger seat and they dissolve into laughter.
Ilsa, Brooklyn, and I are squeezed in the back seat and glance at each other in alarm.
“Pig ears?” Brooklyn asks. “I thought I’d tried everything.”
Suze opens her door. “This is a very trendy restaurant and market. Don’t worry. It’s good.”
We scoot out and cross the parking lot to enter the bright open space. There’s a butcher and meat counter, and countless tables. Everything is rectangular, from the bricks to the wood tables and square stools.
Suze gets us a table and we look through the menu.
Ilsa sets hers down. “I’m vegetarian.”
Brooklyn laughs. “Nice try. We saw you eating those steak skewers the first day.”
Ilsa glares at her.
“They have a lovely lunch menu,” Suze says. “Tomato soup. Grilled cheese. There’s no need to eat meat.”
Jessie leans forward. “Other than the pig ears.”
We place our orders and Suze asks for the pig ears to come out first. When they arrive, it’s different from what I expected. I’m not sure what I was picturing, maybe a pile of pink triangles.
But they come out as a stack of crispy fried strips, thin like the tortilla strips you find in migas or tortilla soup. The mound is topped with a fried egg.
We’re each given a small plate.
“Dig in!” Suze says.
Ilsa’s eyes narrow. “You first.”
Jessie laughs. “It’s not poison!” She scoops a hefty chunk of the stack onto a plate, making a great show of stabbing a bite and popping it in her mouth.
It was a big bite. They can’t be all that bad.
We watch as she chews and swallows. “I won’t say it’s my favorite thing in the world,” Jessie says. “But it’s unique and interesting.”
Suze follows suit, taking a solid spoonful for herself and eating a bite.
“I think you’ve done this before,” I say.
Suze and Jessie exchange a smile. “Normally only with new HR hires. But it’s great fun to have interns.”
I take my turn, placing a daring bit of egg and pig ear on my plate. I wait for Brooklyn and Ilsa to do it as well. The two are completely opposite in every way. Brooklyn is bright and happy with her shining gold braids touching her shoulders. Ilsa is brooding and suspicious, her inky hair piled on her head.
“On the count of three,” Brooklyn suggests, her fork buried in her modest pile.
Ilsa and I nod.
“One, two, three.”
Brooklyn shoves hers in her mouth and I take in mine. Ilsa hesitates, then follows suit.
At first, I can’t taste much of anything. It’s all texture, crunch and egg.
Then I bite into the strips of ear. It’s crispy on the outside, but chewier inside. I get why it comes with the egg. It prepares you for the variation in texture.
The taste isn’t much of anything. It’s not bacon. Or even pork. It’s spices and egg.
I swallow. “That isn’t so bad.”
“See?” Jessie says.
Brooklyn takes another bite. “Rattlesnake is chewier.”
I nod. “For sure.”
Jessie and Suze both set their forks down.
Suze speaks first. “You both have had rattlesnake?”
I shrug. “It’s not that hard to find in Texas.”
Brooklyn takes more. “Florida either. Alligator meat is common, too.”
Ilsa is quiet. After a moment, she brings her napkin to her mouth, and I’m fairly sure she spits the pig ear out.
“These interns have more experience than any of us,” Suze says. “And here we were, trying to shock you.”
Brooklyn stabs more egg. “Unless you’ve scraped a beaver off the side of the road and had it for supper, you aren’t going to one up me.”
“You didn’t,” Suze says.
“My Uncle Barton said no meat should go to waste.”
“Aren’t you from Florida? Didn’t you go to college?” Jessie asks.
Brooklyn grins. “You two sure are gullible.”
Jessie sits back with a laugh. “You got us.”
“Serves us right for making them eat pig ears,” Suze says.
This is fun. Brooklyn waggles her eyebrows at all of us, and everyone laughs, other than Ilsa, who looks like she’d rather be doing anything else.
The regular food comes. We talk about the hotel events, how long Jessie and Suze have worked there.
Everyone is getting along great, other than Ilsa, who hasn’t said a word. She watches the rest of us like we’re the ones acting weird.
But she’s obviously stewing, because in the next lull in the conversation, she drops a bombshell of a topic.
“So, Brooklyn, how is it working in the kitchen with your ex? Or is he actually your ex? How is it that nobody wants him to be their ex? They just keep hitting it?”
Brooklyn tenses beside me.
Suze clears her throat. “Maverick might not be the best subject for any of us.” She exchanges a worried glance with Jessie.
But Brooklyn wants to know what Ilsa knows. I can feel her trying to hold back, but she can’t. “Who else doesn’t want him to be their ex?”
“Cristal. Zara. Kennedy.”
Jessie and Suze go still, but they don’t say anything.
“Not possible,” Brooklyn says.
“So you are sleeping with him even now,” Ilsa says.
“I didn’t say that.”
Ilsa shrugs. “Then you don’t care about the rest of them. He disappeared with Kennedy into the supply room of the restaurant for a full fifteen minutes.”
Brooklyn scoffs. “Why would he do that when he has an apartment?”
“Why does he do anything?” Ilsa stabs a piece of lettuce. “Except to show off.”
Brooklyn’s face and neck have gone pink, like on that day in the staff room after we saw Maverick in the hall with Kennedy.
I want to ask her if this is true. Is she still sleeping with Maverick? She hasn’t said anything to me since hiding behind the carts at King Sooper’s.
But her eyes glisten. And that’s answer enough for me.
“I have to pee,” I tell the table. “Brooklyn, come with me?”
She doesn’t resist as I drag her to the back of the restaurant and into the women’s restroom.
“You okay?” I pull a paper towel from the dispenser and pass it to her.
She looks in the mirror and dabs at her eyes. “I know I’m stupid.”
“Is he acting like you’re the only one?”
“Not really. We’re mostly in ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ mode.”
“And you’re okay with this?”
She tosses the paper towel in the trash. “I’m not. Of course I’m not. But I can’t seem to stop. When you’re with him, it’s like you’re the most important, most beautiful woman in the world. He’s so good. So convincing.”
I know how that feels. I try to imagine what I’d do if I found out Sebastian had other girls on the side. It would kill me, but so would letting him go.
“I’m sorry he’s such a gorgeous, sexy asshole.”
She lets out a strangled laugh. “They often come in that precise package.”
“You’ve been here before?”
“It’s a type. And it’s apparently my type.”
“He’s going to get himself fired over all this.”
She washes her hands and presses cool water under her eyes. “I don’t think so. Did you know he and Sebastian grew up together? That’s how he got the job. He thinks nobody can touch him.”
That explains things. “They could go over Sebastian to Havannah.”
“Mav doesn’t think so. Not with her so close to having a baby.”
I lean against the counter. “Are you going to keep seeing him?”
She shrugs. “I don’t want to. But then he knocks on my door, and I let him in.”
I get that, too. I doubt I’d be able to say no to Sebastian.
We’re about to head back to the table when I hold out a hand to stop her. “What do you think Ilsa’s game is, bringing this up in front of Suze and Jessie?”
“She wants to win. The more we look bad, the more likely she’ll get chosen for event manager. They’ll never pick Mav, and he doesn’t even want it. If I’m a hopeless whore, then it’s just you and Owen she has to beat. Owen doesn’t have a competitive bone in his body.”
“So then it’s just me.”
“She’ll come after you next, I bet.” She hesitates. “Are you still seeing Sebastian, or was that a fling?”
I consider saying we’re done, or even saying we only see each other off site. But it’s all a lie.
“Never mind,” she says. “It’s clear you are. Don’t let Ilsa find out. Because once she knows, everybody knows.”
She opens the door and holds it for me.
I walk out in a daze.
Sebastian and I have to be more careful.