All She Can Take

F I V E

"The Fall, Sidney. I'd swap them out in the Fall."

"But it's Spring. Why would you mention that now? I thought you meant swap it now."

"I was brainstorming, my God! " He flailed again.

"Ok, it's ok. We can use this, right? We can, um, tweak the menu a little bit, maybe use it in a dessert?" Sid spit-balled ideas while looking at the racks full of bread. She thought it was stupid that they ordered bread anyway. Any chef worth his salt would have it made fresh in house. But she remembered this was the Grazie, not some revered establishment nestled along on Central Park.

"In a dessert? A dessert? Jesus. And store it where Sidney?" He always used her full name. It grated on her nerves. Made her feel like she was back in culinary school. An era she'd rather forget. "We don't have room for it!" His voice boomed in the empty space. "I don't want to see it. Get it out of here. Get me Ciabatta."

"Ok, yep, sure. Getting it out." Sid placed a hand on the delivery guy's shoulder and offered him an apologetic look. Raymond rolled his eyes and stormed off at her show of compassion. After she was sure Raymond was out of earshot, she turned to the delivery guy.

"Go across the street to the Green Deli. Tell John to hold this for me. Did you catch my name? It's Sidney." She whispered to him with a smirk. He looked relieved to not have to load the bread back on the truck and thanked her before he tilted the bread back up on the dolly and made a quick exit.

She stood in the empty dining room and took a deep breath for the first time since she opened her eyes this morning. The morning had been dizzying. She wished that she could chalk it up to a rare crazy morning but it was like this every morning. Sid always felt like she was one step behind progress. Always falling short of the mark. It was brutal trying to keep it all together. But even if she was hanging on by a pinky finger, she was hanging on. It could always be worse. She doubled back to the kitchen, scooped up her coat and backpack. She stopped and spoke to the Sous Chef, an easy-going Haitian guy named Frantz.

"Hey, Frantz." Sid leaned on the counter and put her head in her hands. She didn't need to put on any heirs with Frantz. He, better than anyone, knew what they were working with when it came to Raymond.

"Sup, Sid. Fun morning?" He teased her, his pepper gray mustache rose as his lips curled into a smile. He'd heard the uproar.

"Delightful. Can you get that bread from John later and make a dessert from it? Maybe a cinnamon bread--"

"With caramel drizzle or something?"

"Yes! I'll add an insert to the menu now and give a few complementary to get a buzz going. You're a lifesaver." Sid called behind her as she followed the narrow hallway that led to the back office. She prayed it was empty. Her boss, Quinn, usually didn't stroll in until 11 AM, shortly before opening. It would be her luck that today would be the day that she decided to get here bright and early. She held her breath and turned the knob of the heavy wooden door to find it empty. She exhaled. God was real.

She hung up her things on the coat rack and took her seat at her desk. Booting up her old computer often took a while so she scrolled through Instagram to kill time. Tomiju's face was the first to grace her screen. Her best friend since college was, undoubtedly, in the middle of a meeting but managed to snap a killer selfie with the churning Hudson River visible through floor-to-ceiling conference room windows behind her. Tomi Ito sat comfortably-- although begrudgingly-- atop the Ito Hotel Dynasty. 

Sid looked around her own office. She sat behind a brief span of desk mashed in the corner of the tiny room. Perched on top of a rickety office chair that barely contained her wide-set hips. Her plaque-- Sidney Berry, Assistant Restaurant Manager -- sat at the front of her desk. She remembered having to order it herself after everyone kept calling her the receptionist. It wasn't much. Certainly wasn't a corner office in a downtown Brooklyn high-rise like Tomi had. Sid sighed every time she visited her, staring out of those windows and wondering if she'd be able to right the ship that was her life.