Hot Potato

15. Not Safe for Work

The cleaning stuff was still where I had abandoned it, and as I headed toward it, I shook my head. Later. More important stuff, now. I lifted my backpack from the seat and hung it over the chair back; then I sat to examine the computer, a freestanding screen with a wireless keyboard and mouse. My push on the Apple logo on the screen frame did nothing. Didn't even move. How do I turn it on? I ran my fingers all around the screen's smooth, thin edge, finding no switch. Nothing remotely close.

Look it up, Gigi. I pulled out my iPhone, turned it on, and when it had cycled, a red Gmail notification surprised me. I opened the app to see it was from John Cardinal. What! What does he want? I clicked.

Hello Gianna;

I hope you're having a restful break. It's now more than three weeks, so we should begin. Here are the first three positions I can arrange for you:

1. Côte d'Or – Understudy Chef Repolt. Take over when he moves on in December.
2. Four Seasons Hotel – Senior Sous Chef.
3. Pearls on Hornby – A month of familiarisation, then Executive Chef.

Let's discuss the career implications of these.

Best, John

What the eff? I clicked mark as unread. Later. More important things now. I opened Chrome and Googled turn on apple desktop. Aha! Power switch on the back of the screen. Easy to find and press, and I was pleased to see the screen light up and slowly load. Then, the same image as on my MacBook appeared, asking me to enter the password, so I took the cards from my pouch.

A dead keyboard. Maybe it powers on separately. How? Back in the iPhone, I found that it has a switch on its bottom and that the mouse and trackpad have switches on their back edge. Trackpad? Wonderful! Not here, though. Maybe in the drawer – but that's locked.

I entered the password, then fist-pumped when I was allowed in. On the screen was a Google Doc titled Grand Opening. A four-course tasting menu, each course two small plates and a matching wine. Smart. Demonstrating the kitchen's talent to the wine and food writers, the restaurant reviewers and the other movers and shakers who would have been invited.

Good place to begin designing our menu. Eight dishes already – Freddy's featured ones. Likely many more as I search through here.

Later. Other things first. I opened an incognito window and entered porntube in the search bar; then I clicked on the site's link. A page loaded with a checkerboard of images. Explicit images. Oh, my God! And I'm among these. Where?

I looked at one, shaking my head. Spread wide and smiling at the camera. Why? Scrolling down, the theme continued, the images animating when the cursor hovered on them. They know they're being videoed. At least, the ones with faces showing – most show other body parts.

So, how do I find me? I moved the cursor to the search bar – so awkward with a mouse. Far prefer a trackpad. Then with girth typed, I clicked on the search symbol. Another checkerboard of images loaded, this time with close-ups of Gath's twenty-fiver.

As I scrolled down, I tensed at the sound of approaching voices. How do I do a four-finger swipe without a trackpad? What's the shortcut? I pressed command+left. Nope! I tried control+left, and when the grand opening menu reappeared, I released my breath.

"Did you get in, Gianna?" Duncan asked as he entered the office.

"I did, and I found the menu for the grand opening."

"Great! I've assembled the dishwashers and junior cooks, and I thought it best that you instruct them."

"Thank you. Yes, that would be the easiest way for me to learn."