The only thing that overcomes hard luck is hard work.
~Harry Golden
***
"Good morning everyone," she greeted all the chefs in the kitchen. A plush kitchen for a lavish hotel. Naturally.
"Morning ma'am."
"We met just yesterday morning and you all have already forgotten what I told you?" They gave her a confused look. "No ma'am, no chef, please. Call me anything but that. My full name is Savannah Victoria Reece, call me by either of the three names or a nickname, I don't mind."
"Got it!" they spoke in unison.
"Well, there's someone I want to introduce y'all to. She'll be here in a while, till then one of you brief me about how the meals and shifts work here and rest of you get back to work."
"Hi, um, Savannah. That works?"
The guy had, what looked like, shoulder-length blonde hair tied behind and a five o'clock shadow with the typical blue-gray irises that, all in all, gave him the perfect Italian ragazzo look.
"Absolutely. You are... Giovanni? Am I right?"
"Bang on. You remembered? That's fantastic memory, I must say."
"I'm good with names otherwise, plus your thick Italian accent helped a bit," she chuckled.
"Oh, yeah."
"Well then tell me how it works here."
"I'll start off with the meal service timings, then get to the shifts and working hours, sound good?"
"Sure," she agreed and started walking around the kitchen, signaling him to follow.
"So breakfast is from seven to ten, lunch from twelve-thirty to two-thirty and dinner from seven to ten, again. In between, we have patisserie—if guests want it—from three to five, five-thirty. That's about it."
She nodded. He watched her as she opened a pot, sniffed at the freshly made clam chowder, and said, "Delilah, add a bit of white pepper and iota of crushed rosemary."
"Yes, chef—Savannah," Delilah corrected.
"Continue, Giovanni."
"Yeah. Um, so, the breakfast shift starts at five-thirty, then lunch shift starts at ten. Then at two we clear everything up and get going for the patisserie shift and later, from five again we start prepping for dinner. Ten o'clock we clear everything, decided the next day's menu, which Xavier used to do until now—now, I guess, you will—and get back to our rooms."
"Okay. Now tell me what's for lunch today. Wait a minute," she stopped him, and clapped her hands to get everyone's attention. "Chefs, Giovanni, here, was just filling me in about how the kitchen works, and I was told that Xavier was the chef in-charge, is that right, Xavier?"
"Yes, Ch—uh, Savannah."
"Good," she nodded once. "Listen up, chefs, I know I'm here to be your head chef until the gala night, but till Tuesday everyone will be taking orders from Xavier, including me, am I clear?"
Everyone looked hesitant to agree, while Xavier looked nervous—no, immensely apprehensive.
She let her gaze wander towards each person. "What's wrong?" When no one answered, she turned to Xavier. "Xavier?"
"You said I'd be in-command till Tuesday..."
"And?"
"Uh... how can I give orders when... you know, you're here? I mean, I can't instruct you, right?"
"Why not?" she simply asked.
"Um... because you're supposed to be higher in the hierarchy than me. I can't... give out orders to you."
"First-off, guys, I'm not going to chew you alive, so loosen up." She looked around to see their faces—no changes. Okay...
"See, I might come off as strict and stringent in the kitchen, I'm not denying it even one bit, I am both of them. I need discipline. And, I'm telling you this too, that I won't keep from telling you off if you mess up, but when everything is going well, we'll sure laugh and have fun too. After all, it's only three months I've got to have y'all like me so much that you'll miss me when I go, right?"
Her trick to lighten up the mood and get them to loosen up to her worked. At the last sentence, some chuckled freely, and at least a smile graced others' faces. Progress!
"So, are we okay here?" Everyone nods. "Great. Now, coming back to you, Xavier. What's wrong?"
"I can't instruct you what to do. That's not right."
"Okay, how about this. As the head chef, I am instructing you to order me around, does that work?"
"Why do you want me to tell you what to do?"
"Because, unlike you guys, I'm not permanent here. I can't afford to take my own sweet time getting to know how this kitchen works. I need to be quick. And, for the I need to know how you all worked when I wasn't here, so that I can blend in easier. Get it? I understand it's weird, but please go it to make things easier for me and your employer. The gala is for him, and I'm here for that. If things get hard for me, it will indirectly mess with the gala."
"Okay," he agrees firmly.
"That's like it!" she pats his shoulder. "Giovanni, get back to work. Xavier, I'll need you for a minute. I want to see the restaurant—Le Saveurs, correct?—its layout, so I know what we're in for on a regular day."
"Sure, I'll show you around. Come on."
"Lead the way," she held out a hand.
He guided her to the restaurant at Magna, Le Saveurs, which meant The Flavors in French, according to what Xavier told her. She learned that he'd been working here since he finished culinary school, he was the oldest. Then Delilah and Joseph came along, followed by Giovanni, Lily and Chase, and Laser—spelled with a s instead of a z—was fairly new.
"Savannah, this is the restaurant. There," he pointed to a string of long black marble tables set adjoining to one another, "we set up the buffet for every meal. For lunch and dinner it's a six-course meal, and breakfasts are full-course. Then, we have the à la carte—"
"Sorry, I have to get this," Savannah said, referring to her ringing phone, excusing herself.
"Boss!"
It was none other than the only tardy human she favored, Abbey Fury. Kindly note the sarcasm, everyone.
"Where are you Abbey? It's ten-thirty."
"Really sorry. I may or may not have overslept a little and then the room Mr. Sifton gave me had a jacuzzi—I just couldn't turn away from such a wonderful sight. And, oh, the pleasure the hot streams of water got me, Sav, just amazing—"
"Abbey. Can we talk about this later?"
"Sure. Where are you, by the way? I am in their lobby, tell me where to come I'll be there."
"I'm at their restaurant. Here, now, Abbey!"
"Yes, boss!"
Abbey was one lax of a human being. Incredibly leisurely, smugly so. Savannah would never know what had caused her to hire Abbey as her assistant considering their stark opposite personalities. Abbey was tardy, Savannah was highly punctual—ahead of time, one could say. Abbey took clumsiness to a whole new level, while Savannah was... well, well-coordinated. Abbey was—never mind, thinking about it for umpteen times wouldn't change anything.
"Xavier," she called out as she came back. "You were telling me about the à la carte, go ahead."
"Yeah, um, I just got you a menu card, you know, to look through..." he hesitated.
"Well, thank you, that was very thoughtful of you. And, Xavier, please, for fuck's sake—" she winced at her own language, "relax. I. Will. Not. Eat. You. Up," she told him slowly as if explain to a two-year-old. "I promise."
He laughed, freely, for the first time. "O-kay."
"Great. Well, I think we're done here? Unless you have something more to say?"
"Nothing, no."
"So, let's return to the kitchen, shall we?"
"Sure—"
"Boss!" a loud shout reverberated.
Savannah rolled her eyes. Abbey. "That should be my assistant, excuse her behavior, please."
Xavier simply chuckled at that. "Most definitely."
"Savvy Tori Reece," Abbey called, before flinging her arms around Savannah in a hug. Yes, Abbey was a hugger. Actually, she was awfully high on hugs.
Savannah winced at the name. Sure, it was something Abbey more often than not called her, but in front of colleagues it was rather unnecessary. She risked glance at Xavier, who was indeed having a good laugh at the nickname. Oh, just great!
"Okay, okay, Abigail Beatrix Fury, enough," Savannah easily pushed her away.
"Yes, boss! Sorry," she giggled.
"Well, Abbey, meet Xavier. Xavier, Abbey—Abigail—my assistant."
"Hi. It's nice to meet you."
"Yeah, me too," Abbey replied, shaking his hand.
"So, Fury, come with me, I have to introduce you to the others as well."
"Okay. Lead the way."
Once they returned to the kitchen, Savannah instructed Xavier to get back to work before clapping her hands to gain attention.
"Okay. Everyone, she is Abigail Fury—Abbey, my assistant. Any time I'm unreachable, you go to her. If there's anything I want to convey and I can't myself, she'll do it for me, clear?"
"Yes!"
"Well, Abbey, you met Xavier, that is Joseph," she introduced one by one, "Delilah, Lily, Giovanni, Chase and Laser—with an s. Okay?"
"Yep."
"Okay, everyone, get back to work. Abbey and I will just look around Le Saveurs again. I'll be back in a while."
She pushed the steel swing door, walked out and held it open for Abbey, because, well, it was a swing door, and Abbey being Abbey, could perfectly get herself hit right in the face if she wasn't mindful enough to walk out before it swung back, or hold it out, which was the case ninety-nine percent of times.
She needed Abbey in one piece, because however Abbey was, she was sincere when it came to her work—and, selfishly, Savannah was in no mood to go assistant-hunting anytime soon. That was one tedious task.
Pulling out a chair for herself at the table in an extreme corner, she said, "Abbey, get me a menu card, will you? And, take out the iPad, and type as I say."
"Yes, boss!"
Abbey returned with two booklets. "Here. One is for the food and the other is for beverages," Abbey stated at sat herself down.
"Okay. Well, we'll go through the food one first."
She read through the soups first. They had a good assortment of those—rather, their variety throughout courses was decent. Considering the gala, she decided to do one vegan soup that would work for the vegetarians also, and one chicken for the meat-lovers.
"Abbey, note this: Soups—vegan—Cream of Mushroom—tad changing needed; meat—Chicken Mulligatawny—non-menu. For salads, Pasta salad with a twist, Asian Sesame salad and Chickpea Shawarma Salad—all non-menu."
Next up were the appetizers. Hmm. For the gala, she needed to have items that either weren't on this menu card at all or alter the flavors and taste of what was there so that the guests didn't get something they'd already tried at Le Saveurs.
"Abbey write this down: Seafood—Crab Cakes with Horseradish Cream or Mini Brioche Lobster rolls—both non-menu items. Meat—baked chicken wings—on-menu item, restyling required. Vegetarian—some sort of crostini, and vegan—Nashville-styled vegetable bites... cauliflower, broccoli and potato."
"Wait a minute, Sav. Go slow, please. It'll all get messed up if I type so fast."
"Okay, okay. I'll keep that in mind. Are you done so far at least?"
"Yeah, somehow, I am."
"Good. Let's proceed, then." Abbey glared at her. "Don't worry. I'll speak at tortoise speed, okay?"
"That's good."
The next half-an-hour or so was spent deciding what the food for the gala would be. Of course, she would change things after running them by Zac, if he said so. Later. Right now she had to go back to the kitchen and work with them. She'd go to Zac during the patisserie shift—she suspected that was only shift that was tad easy.
"Okay. Fury, do me a favor. Go to Zac—"
"Zac? Last time I checked, you were hellbent on Zachary, as far as I know."
"I was, you're right. I'll tell you later, but right now that's not important. You need to check with the receptionist where his office is, I don't know. Just let him know I'll be coming by his office this afternoon around four."
Abbey saluted, making Savannah roll her eyes but chuckle, nonetheless. Abbey was a kid all right.
"Off you go, I'll return to the kitchen. I'll be collecting the iPad before I go to Zac, so text me your room number."
While Savannah made her way to the kitchen, Abbey merrily skipped towards Zac's office. Why'd these hotel owners need to have their offices in secluded corners of the whole estate? It was such a stress on her leg muscles, walking there.
She knocked on his door twice before saying, "Mr. Sifton?"
"Yeah. Come in."
"Uh, hi. I'm Abigail Fury—Abbey. You must've heard about me from Sav—Savannah?"
"Oh, yeah. Abbey, the uncoordinated one, right?"
"She told you that?" Abbey gasped. "How mean. But, it's true anyway, so there's no point in denying it," she shrugged.
"Well, what can I do for you?"
"Uh, nothing. Actually I came by to ask you if you're okay with Savannah dropping by at, say. four-ish in the afternoon?"
Savannah was gonna visit? he thought. What was there not to be okay with Savannah visiting? Hell, yeah, he wanted to say, but instead he said, "No problem. I'm free then. Um, you know what she wants to talk about?"
"I suspect it's to do with the gala, obviously. That's precisely why she's here, but other than that, I don't know. She didn't tell me."
"Okay. No worries. Just convey that to her too."
"Yep!" She proceeded to leave. But then she remembered something. "Um, Mr. Sifton?"
"Yes, Ms. Fury?"
"The room you gave me?"
"Yeah? What about it?"
"It had the most gargantuan jacuzzi I've ever seen, and, the experience was so fantastic."
She said it with so much marvel, he couldn't help the smile that overtook his face. "I'm glad you liked it, Ms. Fury."
"Oh, I more than just liked it," she smiled. "I'll see you around, maybe."
"Sure," he agreed as she left his office.
Savannah was coming by later? His day had just gotten a whole lot brighter.
—x—
Well, I posted today to make up for forgetting to post on Monday when I'd promised.
I hope you like Chapter 7. Please vote and comment if you did.
Thank you!!!
Until next time...