Turn Up the Heat (3 page)

“So are you salaried? Or do you get paid on commission?” As soon as Doug asked the question, Terry held out a fork laiden with scallops for Doug to try. He chewed, swallowed, and smiled. “That pear chutney is to die for!”

“No, he’s definitely not salaried.” Adrianna shook her head. “And save some scallops for me. They look incredible.”

“No, I’m not. I get a percentage of the profit made on the sales. It’s basically like I have my own business through the Daily Catch. I run my accounts and set my daily prices based on whatever I’ve got to pay, and then the company gets part of the money I earn. Wait until you guys see my truck. It’s just a regular pickup truck, but we added a refrigeration unit to the back, and I just got the company logo painted on. It’s so cool. Want to come check it out quick? Josh let me park it in the back alley behind Simmer.” Owen stood up as though we all might be itching to abandon our dinners to go out and admire his delivery truck.

“Owen, no one wants to tromp through the dirty alley right now, okay?” Ade grabbed his arm and pulled him back into his seat. “And, technically, it’s not even
your
truck. It’s your boss’s.”

“Well, yeah. But when I get enough money, I’m going to get my own from one of those car auctions and get the refrigeration unit installed on top. Or get a refrigerated van. That would mean better gas mileage. And with my own truck, I’d get a larger percentage of the profits. It’s forty percent when you use a company truck and sixty percent when it’s your own.” The pork quesadilla was in the center of the table, and Owen took a section and scooped some apple salsa onto his plate. “Man, these are quesadillas gone wild!”

Ade spoke with her mouth full of cod and vegetables. “True, but it’s nice that you get to use the company’s one for now. And that monster will definitely get you through the Boston winters.” She finished chewing and pointed at Owen with her fork. “He doesn’t pay for anything except gas. His boss pays for all the maintenance, repairs, insurance, inspection fees, and all that. He’s got to get the lock fixed on the back of the truck, and that won’t cost him a thing. Not a bad deal. Oh, my God! That fish is so good. Is that fresh oregano? I love it.”

“Oh, pass some over here.” Terry reached for the plate of cod that was accompanied by plain couscous that soaked up all the delicious juices. “A broken lock, though? Aren’t you worried someone is going to break into the truck?” asked Terry. “People probably think it’s full of lobsters.”

Owen shook his head. “Nah. I’m only at each restaurant for a few minutes while I’m delivering, and then the truck is empty the rest of the day and night. Someone could get into the back, but there’s nothing there to take except plastic tubs full of ice or the dolly I use for larger deliveries. I’m getting the lock fixed in a few days anyhow. This has got to be the best job I’ve had! And best of all, I’m usually done for the day anytime between one and four in the afternoon. It’ll be perfect when the little one arrives.” Owen reached over and rubbed Ade’s stomach. “Hear that? Daddy’s gonna be making big bucks
and
is going to have plenty of time for you. Oh, did I tell you I got another account today? Big order for tomorrow already.”

I was so happy for Owen. He was obviously doing well with this job, and his success was going to make life less stressful for him and for Ade. She was still working as an independent hair stylist, but because she’d been feeling so sick, she’d eased up her hours by keeping her highest-paying clients and slowly dropping off the less profitable ones.

We worked our way through the meal, savoring the delicious food and the good company. Doug excused himself to go to the men’s room. When he returned, he scooted his chair close to the table and leaned in. “Hey, Chloe. Since you’re a regular here, do you know what’s going on with our waitress, Leandra, and that other girl back there?”

I peered in the direction Doug was pointing and saw Leandra almost nose to nose with Blythe. Or, rather, nose to boob, since Blythe was much taller than Leandra. Blythe’s back was to me, but I could see Leandra’s pretty face scrunched up in a snarl. “That’s Blythe,” I said with an unintentional sigh. “She’s a hostess here, but sometimes she bartends or waitresses when they need her to. Why?”

“Just looking for some restaurant gossip. When I walked by them, they seemed to be having some sort of spat. I don’t know what it was about, but I did hear Leandra say something to the other one about being flat-chested.”

“Yeah, I’m not surprised. They don’t really get along. Blythe can rub people the wrong way.” Or at least rub women the wrong way. I had gone to college with Blythe, although I hadn’t known her that well then. We were in some of the same circles, so I’d known her socially, but Blythe had taken icky classes like Introduction to Economics and Advanced Cell Biology, so we hadn’t crossed paths too often. I’d run into Blythe again a few months ago, and with Adrianna out of commission for late-night partying, I’d ended up hanging out with her. I guess it sounds sort of pathetic, but I didn’t have that many friends in Boston anymore. I’d met a few new people at social work school, most notably Doug, but a lot of my friends had moved across the country for school, jobs, or relationships. I was finding that after college, it was becoming much tougher to make new friends, so when I ran into Blythe, I just felt happy to see a familiar face. Blythe was taking a few classes at Suffolk University Law School, and I hooked her up with Simmer for some part-time work. I had sort of a love-hate relationship with her; one minute I loved her, and the next I wanted to claw her eyes out. And Ade just hated her.

Blythe’s mother was Filipino, and her father was Irish. The combination had produced the intoxicating Blythe, who was infuriatingly attractive, although in a completely different way from Adrianna. While Ade had more of a model look, Blythe was less classically perfect. She had dark-brown hair that was cut in stylish angles that accentuated her cheekbones, shorter on one side than the other, gorgeous brown skin, and a tall body. She had one slightly lazy eye that somehow added to her looks. In fact, all of Blythe’s supposed imperfections made her more attractive than she’d have been without them. As Leandra had evidently pointed out, Blythe was pretty flat-chested, but she always wore low-cut shirts that exposed her smooth skin. I always had the impression that Blythe wanted people to think that because she didn’t have big boobs, her revealing shirts couldn’t possibly attract the opposite sex, right? Even the permanent chips in her nail polish seemed deliberate, part of a calculated effort to convince people that she had a blasé attitude toward her appearance. Men often seem drawn to women who don’t look as if they spend hours in front of the mirror loading on makeup and hair products. Blythe cultivated that kind of inadvertent-looking beauty. In combination with her sharp intellect, it dazzled almost everyone. Yet she rarely hooked up with guys. One thing I couldn’t fault Blythe for was being slutty. And she was definitely entertaining to be around: charming, smart, and engaging. As if all of that weren’t enough, she somehow managed to balance her law school studies with her work at Simmer; she was one of the busiest people I knew. Hormonal Adrianna was a lot fussier than I was about who she hung out with. Ade tolerated Blythe only for my sake and only after repeated assurances that Adrianna’s place as my best friend was secure.

Josh returned to our table looking significantly more sweaty and food-stained than earlier this evening. He held a small notepad and pen in his hand. The top few buttons of his chef’s coat were undone, a sign that he was finishing up for the night. I was surprised. It was only ten fifteen.

“Are you done?” I asked excitedly, hoping I’d actually get a little time with him tonight before he collapsed in an exhausted heap.

He pulled a chair over to the table and squeezed in next to me. “Yup. Just gotta write the prep list for tomorrow, and I’m good to go.”

“What goes on to your prep list?” wondered Terry, flipping his hair behind his shoulder with a headshake. “Don’t you guys have the same things to do every morning?”

“In some ways we do, but a lot can change from day to day depending on what business was like the day before. Like today I sold almost all our soup, so we’ll have to make another one tomorrow. Sunday is usually our inventory day, so we’ve got to weigh all of our proteins, like the meats and cheeses, and then estimate amounts of our dry products, fill out paperwork on it all, and then put in any orders we need for restocking. Oh, yeah! We’ve got an eight top coming in for a lunch party, and they preordered everything, so that’s got to get done.” Josh started scribbling on his notepad as he talked. I loved some of the restaurant jargon Josh threw around.
Eight top
meant a party of eight.
Deuce
was a party of two. It was funny that even though I knew these terms now, I would never use them myself since I wasn’t in the business. If I’d tried, it would’ve been like Justin Timberlake throwing around street slang, as if he’d grown up in the inner city instead of in Tennessee. Idiot. Anyhow, I wasn’t going to humiliate myself by using lingo that wasn’t really mine.

“Snacker is coming in before me tomorrow, so I’ll leave this out for him and the other guys.”

I noticed Owen flinch at the mention of Snacker’s name, but he restrained himself from saying anything.

Josh continued. “I thought I’d have to stay late tonight, but the big dinner rush is over, and Santos and Javier can handle any orders that come in.”

“I thought Santos was one of your dishwashers,” I said.

“Well, yeah, he is. But he’s also a line cook. He and Javier sort of do whatever I need them to do.” The flexibility was typical of restaurant people. Everyone seemed to work double duty; a bartender might end up receiving food deliveries, a line cook might sweep the floor, and a server might help put away bar deliveries. “If you’re me, you end up doing everybody’s job half the time.” Josh sighed, clearly beat. He’d been at work since seven this morning and had to be back here around ten tomorrow morning. Theoretically, Josh wasn’t scheduled to arrive at Simmer until eleven, but eleven was right before lunch service began, and Josh still didn’t trust everything to run smoothly without him.

“I seriously can’t stay awake any longer.” Adrianna looked even more tired than Josh. “Everyone kept telling me that after the first three months I wouldn’t be so tired and I’d feel better, but I’m still waiting. Owen, can you drive me home in my car and then just take it back to your place? Maybe Chloe would drive you back here tomorrow to get your truck?”

“Yeah, babe. Of course.” Even though they were moving in together in a few days, Owen had been spending most nights at his apartment because he had to get his price lists, which were faxed over to his place every morning. “Chloe? Would you mind? If you can pick me up by six thirty, I can be down to the warehouse by seven.”

“Yeah. No problem.” I didn’t relish the thought of waking up at six in the morning, but the need to give Owen a ride would get me up and moving. I had plenty of studying to do before finals came around as well as forty pages left to write in my papers. “Ade, you look blitzed. Can you sleep in tomorrow?”

Adrianna sat up tall in her chair, rubbed her lower back, and spoke through a yawn. “I don’t have any appointments until ten, so I can sleep some. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Absolutely. Go home and go to bed!”

Owen replied for her. “All right. Thanks so much. And now you’ll be able to see my truck!” Owen sounded wildly excited. He dropped some cash on the table for a tip. I couldn’t believe how great it was that Josh could comp this whole meal. What a privilege!

“Josh, as always, thank you for an excellent meal.” Owen shook Josh’s hand and then pulled Ade’s chair out for her. The two said their good-byes. I blew Ade a kiss and promised to call her tomorrow to check in and see how she was feeling.

“We should take off, too, Doug.” Terry wrapped his arm around Doug’s shoulder, pulled him in, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. As much as I couldn’t stand the ostentatious wealth and fashion pressures of Newbury Street, at least the tolerance for homosexual displays of affection was high. Between the numerous salons, boutiques, clothing stores, and restaurants here, gay men made up half the population of staff and customers, and I was glad that Doug and Terry could feel comfortable. Doug gave me another stern warning about taking my finals seriously. Then he and Terry left hand in hand.

Leandra arrived, accompanied by Santos, to clear our table. “You heading out, Chef?” she asked, beginning to stack plates on the large tray that Santos held.

“Soon. I just have to finish my prep list, and then I’m going. Are you all set here?”

Leandra nodded. “Yeah, we’re in good shape. Snacker just left, and the other guys are breaking down the kitchen now. I think there are only a few people left at the bar, but it’s a mess back there, so Kevin will be busy later. Poor guy got shot down again by one of those barely twenty-one girls over there. I told him he could do better, but he keeps trying. So, what time do you come in tomorrow?”

“You don’t want to know,” Josh said with a smile. “I’ll be here by eight or eight thirty, but Snacker and the others will be here before that, so leave a note if anything comes up while you’re closing. I know, don’t look at me like that.” Leandra had crinkled her face into a questioning frown. “Don’t ask me why we’re having a full crew on first thing in the morning. I’m only following orders.”

“Okay, but I might not be here that much longer. Wade and Kevin are locking up tonight, so I’ll tell them. Nice to see you again, Chloe.” Leandra flashed me a perky smile before piling the last of the dishes on Santos’s tray, and then she turned to Owen. “So, when am I going to get a ride in that new truck of yours? I hear the fish business is booming.” I couldn’t tell if Leandra was being flirtatious or sarcastic, but either way, I didn’t like it. And neither did Adrianna, who shot a death stare in Leandra’s direction.

Owen was suddenly flustered and presumably uncomfortable. “Business is fine. Thank you for asking.” I was glad he didn’t mention Leandra’s inappropriate request for a ride.