“That’s it. Evidently the theme for today is rolls. You’ll have to try a little of the braciole later this afternoon when we slow down. It sounds like a cliché, but it really does melt in your mouth.”
The lunch service flew by. Gary had Emma take all the calls that came in. After each reservation, he checked the book and showed her how to plan and how to stagger them so that the guests wouldn’t have to wait when they arrived and wouldn’t feel rushed as they ate. It was definitely a balancing act and Emma was glad that Gary was being so patient with her and double-checking everything because twice she needed to call a customer back and change the time slightly.
Emma was straightening out the pile of guest checks when one caught her eye. At the top of each check, the waiter always indicated the table number and size of the party. “Wow, this guy must have been really hungry,” she commented. The amount of food he ordered would have fed two to three people comfortably.
“Let me see.” A somewhat worried look came across Gary’s face as he read off the items the guest had ordered.
“Braciole and the rollatini plus the eggplant parm off the regular menu, escarole bean soup, Caesar salad, stuffed mushrooms, a side of ziti with marina sauce plus tiramisu and cheesecake?” He raised his eyebrows at Emma. “My dear, I suspect we had a food critic in today, and regretfully, I should have picked up on this while he was here. He must be new. I usually recognize them when they come in.”
“Do you think we have anything to worry about? I’m sure everything he had was delicious.”
“It’s not just the food. Normally when someone orders like this, out of the ordinary for one person, we take note and assume that he or she may be a food critic or travel writer of some sort. So, we’ll just take extra care to make sure there are no glitches and that service goes smoothly.”
“I think he was in during the busiest part of the lunch rush. I remember seating a single dark-haired man at the small table by the window. He seemed pleasant enough.”
“We’ll see.” Gary smiled at Emma, but she could still see a hint of worry on his face.
Chapter 8
Jill was having the day from hell. Just about everything that could possibly go wrong did.
She tried to dial in to the office for the Monday morning job order meeting, but her phone kept disconnecting due to construction on the next street over. By the time it was working again, the meeting was long over. Her computer was driving her crazy too, due to Gram’s painfully slow connection. She had called the cable company first thing that morning to upgrade to the high-speed network, but the earliest appointment they could give her was a week away.
By lunchtime she just couldn’t take it any longer. She packed up her laptop and cellphone and headed down the street to her favorite local coffee shop, which offered great sandwiches and soups and best of all, free wi-fi. She called her office, had Jenna forward all her calls to her cell, then settled into an empty corner where she could plug her laptop in and hopefully not bother anyone. Interestingly, she noticed there were others also working on laptops and talking on cellphones. This could work.
She was in the middle of an interview with a star candidate when another call beeped through, and Billy’s number flashed. She ignored it, figuring she could call him back when she was done as she thought it was rude to answer another call in the middle of an interview. But when he called again five minutes later, she apologized to her candidate and clicked over.
“What’s up? Is something wrong?”
“No, I just wanted to see what you were doing? You didn’t answer the first time I called.” Billy was all charm, and she wanted to kill him.
“That’s because I’m working. I’m on the line with a great candidate and only answered now because I figured if you called twice like that it had to be important, an emergency even.”
“What, talking to me isn’t important?” he teased.
“I have to go. I’ll call you later.” She clicked back to her candidate, apologized again and finished the interview. A minute later her phone rang again, the main number from her office.
“Jill, it’s Jenna. Just wanted to give you a heads up that Roger Anderson just called in looking for you. I told him you were in a meeting and would call him right back. He said your candidate no-showed for his interview.”
“Thanks. I’ll find out what happened and call him right back.”
After a half hour of tracking down the missing candidate who somehow got the interview day mixed up, and rescheduling with the client, Jill finally had a chance to call Billy back.
“I thought you were ignoring me.”
“No, just putting out fires, as usual. What’s going on?”
“It’s weird without you here. The energy level is down.”
Jill chuckled. “Are you trying to say you miss me?”
“We all miss you.”
“That’s sweet, but I’m right here. I’m still working. This morning was just a glitch, and it was my first time dialing in. Once I’m regularly part of the meetings even from a distance, it will be better.”
“I suppose. It has to be, right?”
“It will be. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Go bill up a storm, would you please?”
“You got it.”
Jill hung up the phone and then, feeling suddenly restless, took a walk up to the pastry counter and gave in to temptation. She settled back at her table and took a bite of the cherry strudel pastry. She couldn’t make a habit of it, but just for today felt she deserved a little treat. She didn’t admit it to Billy, but she was already missing being in the office too. She missed the fast pace and the constant hum of people on the phone. After only a few days, she was missing everything—Billy most of all.
“So how was your day?” Mandy asked brightly. She’d just arrived at Grams’ house and had a bottle of red wine and a casserole dish that smelled amazing.
“Fabulous,” Jill lied. “What is that?” Mandy had called earlier and said she was bringing them dinner and was anxious to hear how things had gone for both Emma and Jill.
“Veggie lasagna. It’s a new recipe. Low-cal, but still tons of flavor. We’ll see, I guess, right?”
“Well, it smells delicious,” Emma said and started getting plates and silverware from the kitchen. They filled their plates and poured the wine, then settled comfortably at Grams’ dining room table.
“So,” Mandy began, “Emma, tell us everything. How was your day? What was it like? Should I be nervous about tomorrow?”
“No, don’t be nervous. Gary is a doll. He’ll walk you through everything,” Emma assured her and told them all about her day, ending with the realization that they may have been visited by a food critic.
“Do you remember his name?” Mandy asked.
“Why, are you up on who the local food critics are?” Jill asked, and Emma chuckled. She’d been wondering the same thing.
“I may recognize the name.” She seemed serious, so Emma tried to recall the name. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.
“I don’t remember his first name. Last name may have been Connor.”