Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
J ill’s first shift at Mimi’s Place was on Friday night.
They’d agreed that while they’d split shifts so that one of them was always there, Jill would only work nights and the occasional weekend lunch shift so that she could still focus on her real job during the day.
When she arrived at four o’clock sharp, Emma was on her way out, and Gary was finishing up as well, filling in Gina, the bartender and occasional night manager, on the reservations they’d taken earlier that day.
Jill had met Gary previously but not Gina. She was relatively new to Mimi’s Place.
“It’ll be a year next month,” she said when Jill asked how long she’d been there.
“Where did you work before this?” She was curious about Gina’s background. The girl was absolutely gorgeous with olive skin and wavy, almost black hair.
“I was at Via Mollo for ten years,” she said proudly, and Jill was impressed. Via Mollo was one of the best Italian restaurants in Boston. Which made her wonder why Gina would leave there and come here. As much as they all loved Mimi’s Place, it seemed like a step down.
“What made you decide to make the move? Via Mollo is a wonderful restaurant.” Via Mollo had great food, but their service was exceptional. Customers really felt pampered.
“It was time. I wanted a change, a more relaxed environment. I fell in love with Nantucket, and I like the people here.”
Jill was fascinated at the expressions that raced across Gina’s face as she spoke.
Hesitation initially, and a hint of wariness in her eyes that gave Jill the sense that there was more there than Gina was willing to say.
When she spoke of liking the environment and the people at Mimi’s Place though, her smile reached her eyes and lit up even more when she gave Jason a thumbs-up as he walked by.
His face flushed a deep crimson, and Jill chuckled. “I think you just made his night.”
“Jason’s a doll. He brought me a sample of tonight’s special, the short ribs, just before you arrived, and they melted in my mouth.
We should run in the kitchen and get you a quick taste too.
” Gina twisted her hair into a loose knot, securing it with a pen from her apron pocket, and then ran an earthy red lipstick across her lips. “Okay, let’s go.”
They went into the kitchen, which was quiet as the dinner rush hadn’t started yet, but the cooks were busy getting ready, making trays of dinner salads and checking sauces and other prep items on their stations. Jason was gone, but Paul was behind the line.
“Can we get a sampling of the ribs for Jill? I told her she had to taste them. Jason outdid himself.”
Paul grinned. “Sure thing. Here you go.” He handed Jill a small plate with a one-inch-square boneless short rib sitting on creamy mashed potatoes.
Jill had eaten a sandwich before heading in for the night so she wasn’t hungry, but she still inhaled the short ribs.
The sauce was rich and silky with a hint of red wine.
“These are incredible. Do you have short ribs on the menu?”
“No, they’re just a special. They’re pretty popular though. We have them often,” Paul said.
Jill practically ran to keep up with Gina all night.
Her style was very different from Gary’s—just as professional but oozing charm.
Watching Gina interact with the customers, Jill realized that she was a huge asset.
Her training from Via Mollo gave her sophistication but also a warmth that the customers responded to.
It was something that she often saw in the best restaurants, a very subtle way of seeming to know and recognize every customer that walked through the door, even if it was their first time in the restaurant.
“Mr. and Mrs. Dennison, we’re so happy to have you here tonight. We have a fantastic quiet table by the rear window for you that I think you’ll love. It will be ready in just a moment.”
“Oh, that sounds wonderful.” Mrs. Dennison turned to her husband. “I’m so glad we finally made it here. The Kelleys have been raving about this place recently.”
Gina led the couple to their table moments later, and Jill complimented her once she returned to the front desk.
“I love how you make everyone feel special when they arrive, even if it’s their first time. People seem to really respond to that.”
Gina looked pleased with the compliment. “Thanks. It’s something I learned at Via Mollo.” She looked around the dining room. They had a moment of calm before the wave of people were due to arrive.
It lasted about a minute before the first disaster of the night happened.
Tina, the bartender on duty who had been with the restaurant for years, hurt herself cutting fruit garnishes.
The sharp paring knife slipped and went into the soft skin at the vee at the base of her thumb.
It went through almost to the bone, and she must have nicked a vein, because the gushing wouldn’t stop, and Tina nearly passed out at the sight of all the blood.
Gina took charge immediately and called a cab to take her to the emergency room at the Nantucket Hospital to get it stitched up.
“Great, now I need to call Stacy in, and she worked a double yesterday. I hate to do that to her.”
“I can do it,” Jill said.
Gina raised her eyebrows but looked hopeful. “When was the last time you tended bar?”
“A number of years ago, but I was good and fast, and I doubt it’s changed very much.”
Gina glanced at the reservations book. It wasn’t full by any means, which was surprising considering it was the weekend.
“Okay. Let’s give it a shot. If you need help though, just give me a shout, and I’ll figure something out.
” She spent the next ten minutes showing Jill the layout of the bar and how to work the register.
It was a fairly small bar, with twelve stools and a service area.
Jill studied the different wines and descriptions from the bar menu and then poured herself a shot of cola.
A bit of sugar and caffeine was definitely in order.
Any nervousness she felt quickly melted away once the customers started coming in and the waitresses lined up at the service bar.
Jill stumbled a little at first until she got her bearings and remembered the location of the various liquors and wines, and then she was in the zone where you don’t think about things, you just react and produce.
She’d always been good at multitasking, juggling customers and multiple orders at once.
These were the skills of a good bartender, someone who had a feel for when a customer was ready for a refill or in the mood for a bit of chitchat.
Bartenders and waiters tended to do well in the world of headhunting, where multitasking was a given and people skills a must.
Gina stopped by an hour into dinner service to give her a compliment. “You’re really good.”
She sounded so surprised that Jill couldn’t help but laugh. “I used to have a blast bartending in college. I really missed it for a while.”
“Well, you’re a natural. We can use you behind the bar any time you’re willing.” And then she was off, back to new arrivals coming through the door.
Most of Jill’s business came from the service bar.
Only half of the barstools were full, and they were mostly just people waiting for a table to open for dinner.
But a new arrival settled in while she was making a tray of martinis for one of the waitresses.
A single guy about her age, if she had to guess, and quite good looking with dark wavy hair and a square jaw.
He had a notebook in front of him and was flipping through the pages as she walked toward him.
He looked up and smiled, and Jill caught her breath for a moment.
He was seriously hot. Dark brown eyes that were almost black, a strong nose that looked as though it had been broken at least once, and those tiny laugh lines around the eyes that looked so much better on men.
“Hi there. What can I get for you?”
“A Harpoon IPA, please, and a dinner menu.”
Jill handed him a menu and poured his draft beer, taking care to have just the right amount of creamy foam on top. “Here you go. We have a few specials tonight as well. Lobster ravioli and braised short ribs. Soup is a butternut squash bisque with asiago croutons.”
“How do the short ribs look?” he asked casually, and Jill smiled, thinking of the ribs.
“They’re great. Meaty and tender in a silky reduction sauce that has incredible flavor. They’re served on mashed potatoes.”
“I’ll have that, the lobster ravioli, a side of broccoli rabe, and the soup to start. Oh, and an order of the antipasto misto.”
“I’ll put that right in for you.” Jill punched the order into the computer, then set silverware, a napkin, a place mat, and a bread plate in front of the relatively thin man who’d just ordered a massive quantity of food. She waved at Gina to meet her in the kitchen.
“What is it? Is everything all right?” Gina looked puzzled as the rush was pretty much over and the bar practically empty.
“Just a heads-up. That guy at the bar just ordered a lot of food. Two meals, two appetizers, and a side dish. Mandy said the same thing happened the other day, and Gary emphasized that you’d want to know in case he’s a food critic or something.”
“Doesn’t look like one to me, though you never know. I’ll tell Paul so he can make sure everything looks perfect.”
Jill poured a cup of the soup, topped it with the croutons, and dropped two hot rolls into a small basket, along with a few pats of butter. She returned to the bar and set everything down in front of her very interesting customer, who was busy jotting something in his notebook.
“Here you go. Enjoy.”
“Thanks.” He smiled briefly and continued to write.
Jill wandered off to the other end of the bar where two older gentlemen looked ready for a bit of conversation and another cocktail.
An hour later, she cleared away the last dinner plate from the mystery man. He ate silently and sparingly, eating maybe half of everything on his plate. “Can I pack any of this up for you?” It seemed a shame to throw so much food out.
He hesitated for a moment before saying, “Sure, pack it up.”
“Dessert?” she asked, assuming he’d say no, but again, he surprised her.
“Yeah, I’ll have a cannoli and a slice of the tiramisu. And an espresso please.”
“Sure thing.” Jill carefully made the espresso for him, adding a sliver of lemon rind as garnish, then went into the kitchen to pick up his desserts.
“Two desserts, huh?” Paul said. “Did he seem to like his meals?”
“I think so. He’s taking the leftovers with him.”
She wasn’t surprised to see that once again, just a few bites were taken out of each dessert.
“I hope you enjoyed everything?” Jill was curious for any information she could get. So far, he hadn’t given anything away.
“The food was very good. Portions a little big though, but no one ever complains about that, I’m sure.” That was the most he’d said all night. Jill was about to get the conversation rolling when he nipped it in the bud. “I’ll take a check, please.”
“Of course.” She turned to the computer, pulled up his check, and printed it out. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him hold a slim cell phone up. He was taking pictures of the carpet. That was when it clicked, and she knew that he wasn’t a food critic.
“Do you know Cory Lawson by any chance?” she asked, putting the check into a soft leather folder and placing it in front of him.
He seemed surprised by the question. “I do know Cory, but I’m sure I’d remember meeting you.”
“No, we haven’t met. I’m his wife’s sister. She was telling us about you the other night. That Cory had hired a restaurant consultant.”
He grinned and held out his hand. “Macaulay Connor. My friends call me Mac. Nice to meet you.”
“Jill O’Toole.” She shook his hand and enjoyed the feel of his warmth against hers. He had a firm handshake, very much in control.
“I’ll call next week to set up another visit. I like to do the first few sort of incognito, to get a true sense of the food and the restaurant’s rhythm on a given night. Next time I come in, I’d like to meet your staff and get a good look at the kitchen.”
“Great, I look forward to it,” Jill said brightly, though inwardly, she had mixed feelings.
She was looking forward to seeing Mac again but worried about what he might find and what he might want them to do at Mimi’s Place.
Though she wasn’t as financially astute as Cory, she knew enough about running her own business to know that sometimes you had to make difficult choices.