Chapter 6 #2
The same ‘assholes’ he’d played a round of ‘shot poker’ with only a few days ago, but I didn’t feel the need to point that out while he was within arm’s reach of a heavy frying pan. “So, then I’ll assume you’re happy.”
“I don’t do happy.”
“Satisfied? Less grumpy than usual? Not going to send me a message bitching about the state of this place for at least a couple of weeks?”
He grunted, and I thought I almost saw a smile as he tucked the vape away. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll let you sit around and twiddle your thumbs and play with your computer some more before I let you know what you need to be worrying about.”
“Love that,” I said with a grin, looking around as the food prep continued, although at a slower pace than it probably had been an hour before.
“Oh, and in case you didn’t see it because you never look at the goddamn calendar I set up for you, there’s going to be a health inspection in the next month.
And no, they did not tell me the exact date. I guess that would defeat the purpose.”
“Telling us it’s going to happen in the first place defeats the fucking purpose,” he grunted.
“Useless assholes. We’ve passed every fucking inspection they’ve given us with flying goddamn colors and they still want to pop up like they run the fuckin’ place.
But you can go down the road and into a diner that stinks of piss and has rats under the tables, but those fuckers don’t get so much as a fine. ”
“No one expects a diner to be up to code, that’s the risk you take, but they expect a place that’s focused on wellness and health to keep their food prep and eating areas up to code,” I told him with a shake of my head.
“And I’m only reminding you because the last time you didn’t realize an inspector was here, I had to listen to a three-hour rant and then a ten-minute voice message because I didn’t warn you.
You’re going to pass, I know that, but now you know it’s coming. ”
“You make me sound like an asshole,” he said, and this time he did grin because we both knew he was an asshole, but we also knew he was the best asshole for the job. As frustrating as his temperament could be sometimes, there was no way in hell I would entertain the idea of getting rid of him.
“Make you sound like? Or am I just noting the facts out loud?” I wondered, leaving him to snort as I left the kitchen.
The rest of the staff were on top of things, though I was going to need to eye the reports and some of the metrics from the housekeeping staff.
There was nothing immediately alarming, but there seemed to be some roadblocks or something affecting some of the timing.
Things weren’t being done quite when they were supposed to, and our head of housekeeping was puzzled, which meant I was going to be looking at him as the first or even only problem in that department.
It wasn’t always true that when a team was doing badly, the person in charge was the problem, but I’d found it was the best place to start the search.
I had a brief meeting with the few therapists we kept on staff; one throughout the season, the other two rotating as their schedules allowed.
There didn’t seem to be any issues there, but I wasn’t surprised; it was one of the least demanding departments at Arete.
Probably didn’t hurt that anything they discussed with the guests was covered under confidentiality clauses, so the only reason to bring anything up to me was something minor like a system problem, or something major that would require a lot more than paperwork.
Medical was much the same, though they were a lot happier to see their budget had gone up, unlike the far more reserved and curmudgeonly Milton.
Maintenance had a few issues I made a note of and sent on to my team because they were systems based but they were otherwise doing just fine and were also happy to see some of their budgets go up.
I made a mental note to talk to Marc about potentially giving raises as well because with more money at our disposal; it was important to make sure the staff felt they were being taken care of and appreciated.
That was more or less everything on the main floor that needed to be dealt with, and by the time I was done, it was dinnertime at the resort.
I grabbed myself a to-go container of food and made my way to the elevator, taking it up to the administration section.
Only to almost crash into Marc, who was standing on the other side of the door leading to where I needed to go, and almost making me drop my food.
“Jesus,” I huffed out a laugh. “I mean, it’s enough of a jump scare seeing you out of your office without a reason; do you have to lurk around corners?”
“It’s hardly lurking when I’m walking,” he said in amusement and then looked at the food in my hand. “Well, you beat me to the punch.”
“There’s plenty left down there,” I told him with a snort. “You know they always have enough food for everyone here and then some, right?”
“It was more that I was eating in my office and realized you were doing your start of the season prowling,” he said, adjusting his tie even though it was perfectly straight.
“And I know that when you pack your schedule, you forget simple things…such as feeding yourself. While I’m surprised you grabbed dinner, that means you probably forgot lunch…
and I know you didn’t have much more than a couple of pieces of toast for breakfast.”
“Hey, there was peanut butter and jelly on those slices of toast,” I protested. Not that I didn’t know that sounded pitiful, but hell, if I was going to be accused of not taking proper care of myself, then he should at least have all the facts before making his point.
“And lunch?”
“Ah, well, you know, busy day, just didn’t find my way over there.”
“Reggie?”
“Hmm?”
“I know you host your start of the season guest meeting in the cafeteria, and the end of it marks the first lunch service of the season, correct?”
“Hmm…maybe?”
His sigh was so aggrieved you’d think I had been denying him food instead of simply forgetting to eat properly. “Come up to my office and sit down.”
I squirmed and looked toward the door leading to the server room. “My team—”
“I made sure food was brought up as per their preferences, about forty minutes ago. They were also the ones who wanted me to check on you because they knew you wouldn’t listen to them if they tried to get you to take a minute and actually eat.”
“And they think you can do it?”
“Yes, now come sit down and eat your damned dinner in a chair,” he told me bluntly, turning to head toward the stairs to his office.
“Damn, aren’t we feeling bossy today?” I asked in surprise and mild annoyance. “Not sure how I feel about that.”
“I remember Malcolm telling me that when you were in the right mood, you were quite fond of a bossy man,” he said lightly as he started climbing the stairs.
To that I managed an incredibly witty and quick response of…sputtering in shock. “I beg the finest of your fucking pardons? What the hell were you two talking about for that to come up? I’ll dig him up and smack him!”
“Which would be impressive considering he wasn’t buried; have fun trying to find enough of his ashes after years to slap around,” he said as he opened the office door and headed in.
The dark humor took me off guard, but I still couldn’t hold back my snort. “Yeah, alright. I guess that’s a good point, but I still say you’re being bossy.”
“And I say you’ll survive it,” he said as he sat behind his desk, pointing toward the chair on the other side. “Now sit and eat your food already.”
It wasn’t often that Marc told me what to do, so I took the chastisement with a modicum of grace and plopped down into the chair, setting my container on the desk in front of me.
Now, I hadn’t come with anything more than a napkin and some silverware, so I seriously hoped he didn’t mind if I made a mess.
I was more than fine with making a mess at my desk, but if he was going to invite an infamously messy eater along for lunch, then he needed to be prepared for the consequences.
I eyed the food he had collected for himself, or more likely had delivered by a member of the staff, and sighed. “Had your big meal for the day, I take it?”
He glanced down at his salad. “Hm?”
“You normally have one big meal a day; the rest are lighter meals that aren’t overly filling,” I said, jabbing my sauce-covered fork at the salad and watching as some of it splattered onto the desk.
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you’ve learned my eating habits,” he said with a grimace, taking a tissue from the nearby box and wiping up the sauce, leaving the tissue on the desk, probably in anticipation of more mess. “I’m more surprised it took you this long to comment.”
“Just because I know something doesn’t mean I’m always going to say something,” I told him.
“Just like I know for a fact that you usually save your biggest meal for lunchtime. I wasn’t sure about that one for a while since most people, even me, prefer to keep their bigger meal for the late one since a heavy meal in the middle of the day is a guaranteed path to being groggy for a couple of hours. ”
“Until you realized that I already get groggy in the afternoon, so I double down and take a nap after lunch,” he finished for me with a small smile.
“Exactly,” I said with a snort. “I’d call it self-awareness, but you probably spent an unreasonable amount of time coming to that conclusion and settling on a plan.”
“You say as if you don’t have your entire day planned out.”
My phone buzzed, and I frowned at the reminder that I was supposed to be talking to my team about updates to the system that would iron some bugs out. “Well, it’s either that or I end up running around like a chicken with my head cut off, like I did before I came to work at Arete.”