36. Sebastian
Imake it back to my office to find three people already there.
“And where the hell have you been?” Raya demands. “While half the staff is at each other’s throats?”
“Dealing with the broken security camera in the bridal wing,” I say easily.
Raya’s stance is angry, and she glares at Chef Monique, who hovers in the corner like a kid in trouble. This is wild, as Chef is normally hell on wheels.
The other person is Maverick, looking pleased with himself. Of course he does.
I sit in my chair. I have to pretend I don’t know what this is about. “What’s going on?”
“We have a fraternization issue between a superior and a subordinate,” Raya says. “And inappropriate sexual conduct on the hotel grounds.”
Neither Chef Monique nor Maverick reacts to this.
“Is Jessie coming?” I ask. “This is an HR matter.”
“She’s on her way,” Raya says.
“Okay. Everybody, find a seat. We’ll figure this out.” I have a small conference table opposite my desk, and the three of them find chairs. There’s one for Jessie. I stay where I am, worried I might smell of the hot tub or sex or Mila or all three. My stomach rumbles and I realize I used up my lunch hour without eating lunch.
Still worth it.
Chef Monique steals a glance at Maverick like a smitten schoolgirl, but Maverick taps the surface of the table and avoids her gaze.
Raya looks back and forth at both of them like a principal ready to send them to detention.
We’ve definitely had inappropriate liaisons on the clock among staff members before, but never a wild card like Maverick, and never between someone so low on the hierarchy and our head chef.
Still, it’s not lost on me that I better handle this well, knowing that at some point, this meeting will be looked upon in a new light once my relationship with Mila is revealed, hopefully by us, on our own timeline.
Jessie rushes in. “I’m here.” She sits in the empty chair at the table, then hops up again to close the door. “Should we call in Havannah?”
“Let’s not trouble her with this,” I say. “Besides, she’s off site at a doctor’s appointment today.” She texts me each morning with her schedule, particularly if she’ll be out. “Jessie, what is the procedure here?”
She flips her blonde hair behind her shoulder and opens a notebook. “HR will conduct an investigation as to whether there has been preferential treatment or inconsistent distribution of duties.”
Maverick scoffs. “I’m an intern. I’ve been washing dishes and stirring pots. I’m not even allowed to cook anything.”
Raya leans forward. “You have been repeatedly taken off the intern schedule I set and placed in locations that are near Chef Monique.”
“You’re the one who sent me to the dish room on day one!” Maverick kicks back in this chair, arms crossed. “Everyone else got sweet gigs in HR or the front desk or fancy parties, and I’ve been carrying trays and scrubbing pans.”
Raya is undeterred. “You say this as if that was my plan. Kitchen requested you.” She looks pointedly at Chef Monique. “Then you were in the restaurant, where you tended to work the kitchen, anyway. Then Monique wanted you in catering because of the meeting banquets they had to serve early this week. If anything, I tried to get you away from the kitchens.”
Jessie scribbles notes on her clipboard. “Raya, you approved all these schedule changes for Maverick?”
“I did. The requests seemed reasonable.”
And it got Maverick out of her hair. She’d told me so. But I’m not getting any more involved in this than I have to.
“Monique, when did you first request Maverick for the kitchen?”
“After I saw his work ethic and camaraderie with the dish room staff. He was a good addition, and the men all got along.” She folds her hands together.
“And at what stage was your relationship at that point?”
“Nothing. I barely knew him, other than everyone was buzzing about him.”
“Buzzing?”
“Saying he was an enjoyable coworker.”
Jessie bites her lip at that, and I’m trying not to react, either. I bet he was enjoyable.
Jessie turns to Maverick. “How would you characterize your relationship with Chef Monique right now?”
He chuckles. “She’s hot enough to melt the permafrost on the shelves inside the freezer.”
That quiets the room.
Monique’s face goes pink, but I don’t think she’s upset by what he said. If Maverick can win that one over, he’s got real skills.
Jessie makes more notes. “I’ll want to talk to each of you separately. But while you are together, are you two planning on reporting your relationship to HR officially? I can email you both the form so it’s done while we sort this out.”
Monique and Maverick answer simultaneously.
Monique: “Yes.”
Maverick: “Hell, no.”
Monique turns to him. Now she’s upset. “Why not?”
“I’d have to file for half of laundry too.” He stands up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to check on my blonde hottie.”
Does he mean Brooklyn? Geez.
I stand up with him. “Actually, Maverick, you stay right here. Everyone else can work out the schedule of interviews with Jessie for her report.”
Both Raya and Jessie throw me looks that tell me they are not thrilled that I appear to be taking Maverick’s side, but they file out.
Maverick sits back down. “Now what?”
I move to the table. “What the hell are you doing, Mav? Do you have to shove your cock in everything with a vagina?”
“I’m not hitting on your chick.”
This stops me cold. “Who is my chick?”
He props his feet on the table like he’s perfectly at home. “The one with tits for days. Mila. I left her for you.”
My anger floods me so fast, I don’t think. I just yell. “Pack your shit, Maverick. You’re out. Fired. Gone. Empty your apartment.”
He drops his feet to the floor. “Fuck. I figured that would be the thing to get you. Don’t worry. I’m not going to narc on you. I’m not like that.” He stands up to leave. “But seems to me, you and me are in the same damn situation.”
He’s right. “Sit down,” I tell him.
He drops into the chair.
“I assume Jessie won’t find any preferential treatment for her report?”
He shrugs. “Can’t. I’ve been doing grunt work.”
“So the biggest thing we can get you two on is inappropriate behavior.”
“If you get us on that, you’ll have to take out half of laundry, plus room service, plus one of the other interns.”
Now it makes sense. Spread your misdeeds out and it becomes impossible to fire everybody.
“Do you even like Monique?”
“She’s a hard-ass bitch. I dig it. But I’m not having chef babies with her or anything. She’s a freak in the sheets, though. I’ll give her that. The freezer was all about ice on her?—”
“I’m good.” I don’t want any more details. “There’s nothing to cater today. What is your assignment?”
“Nothing. That’s how we freed up time for the freezer,” Maverick says. “I’m just hanging out.”
“You’re moving to HR today, then. Suze will give you work.”
“Cool.” He heads for the door. “That Emily chick in HR is hot.”
Damn it. I should have sent him to maintenance.
But Mila’s with them this week. I don’t want him near her.
I want to tell him not to do anything stupid in HR, but he’s already gone.
I feel like I’m reeling. The wildness in the bridal suite, then abruptly being dumped into this meeting. I run my hand through my hair. It’s curled up from being wet.
Yeah, Chef Monique’s situation will be mine, eventually.
I text Mila. How’s Brooklyn?
It’s a minute before I hear.
Mila: She wants to know if he’s fired.
I shouldn’t answer that. It’s out of protocol. But I do.
Me: Not yet. Convince her to stay.
It’s a while before another one comes.
Mila: She’s calming down. Can she have the day off? Can you make that happen?
Another breach of protocol. Technically, this is Raya’s call, since she’s over the interns. But I do it anyway.
Me: Why don’t you and her go check on the pregnant donkeys when you feel up for it? I’ll tell Raya you two were needed out there and I pulled you from today’s rounds.
Mila: I like that. Thank you.
I sink back in my chair. One problem handled.
Now for the other.
Maverick has figured out about me and Mila. That’s a powerful secret.
I wonder who else knows.