Rest in Pizza (6 page)
Authors: Chris Cavender
“On more levels than I can explain,” I said. I didn’t want to get into all of the things Cindy and I had discussed, particularly my love life.
“She’ll be fine,” Maddy said with the gentle smile I loved so much. “As long as we’re beside her, how can she go wrong?”
“I’m glad you’re on board all the way,” I said.
“Hey, I’m a big fan of the woman myself, but honestly, if something, or someone, is important to you, they matter to me, too.”
I finally caught up with the pizza rush, but the kitchen was a mess the rest of the night, and by the time we served our last customer, I was ready to throw in the towel myself. Maddy and I had different philosophies when it came to running the Slice’s kitchen, but I couldn’t exactly fuss at her after she’d done me such a huge favor by covering for me. It was going to take some real cleaning efforts to get things right again, but at the moment all I wanted to do was go home and go to sleep. It suddenly occurred to me that I’d at least get to sleep in the next day, so that was something.
Taking a deep breath, I started tackling the mess. It helped that Maddy pitched in, too, and we got it taken care of sooner than I would have believed, without skipping a single step or cutting a corner.
I had to admit, though, that by the time I got home, I was too tired to even take a shower. A part of me was suddenly glad that David was out of town, because I was in no position to entertain.
I collapsed on top of my bed, not even bothering to undress, and did my best not to dream about pizza and difficult chefs.
As promised, I met Maddy the next day in front of the Slice a little after eleven. “It feels odd not being open today,” she said. “Did you enjoy sleeping in, Sis?”
“I tried to, but I couldn’t help myself; I got up at my regular time. It was all I could do not to get dressed and come to work this morning.” As I let us in and then locked the door behind us afterward, I added, “Maybe I should have listened to my instincts. We still need dough for later this afternoon and tonight.”
“You’re just making half a batch, though, right?” Maddy asked.
I’d already considered, and rejected, the idea. “No, I’ll make a full recipe, and then I can freeze whatever we don’t use. I’m getting low on backup dough, so it will be nice having a cushion again. How about you? Did you enjoy sleeping in?” I asked as we walked into the kitchen and I started pulling the ingredients we’d need from our pantry.
“Not a chance,” Maddy said with a frown. “Who would have believed it? I used to be able to sleep through a fire alarm, but not this morning. I knew I had time off, but my body refused to accept it. I woke up at my normal time, and then stared at the alarm clock, trying to will myself to go back to sleep the rest of the time.”
“Did you have any luck at all?” I asked as I started measuring flour into the mixer. “Sometimes those last stolen minutes are the best.”
She stifled a yawn, and then asked, “What do you think?”
“I believe we’re both going to be a little groggy today, but take heart. Where there’s hope, there’s caffeine.”
“Why don’t I make us a pot?” she volunteered, and I wasn’t about to disagree.
By the time I had the first batch of dough ready to rest, Maddy handed me a cup. I wasn’t ordinarily a big coffee drinker, but today I needed it to get myself started.
Maddy clinked my coffee cup with hers and said, “Here’s to a good day, despite what we’ve been told to expect.”
I took a deep sip and then shrugged. “You never know. Honestly, I’ve got a good feeling about today.”
“Then we’re in trouble,” Maddy said as she began prepping vegetables for later.
“Why do you say that?” I asked, honestly curious about my sister’s reaction.
“Eleanor, every premonition you’ve ever had in your life has ended badly, and you know it.”
“That’s not true,” I said in protest. “I dreamed that I was going to meet the man I was supposed to marry the very night before Joe came into my life.”
She nodded. “Okay, so you got one in ten thousand right. Good for you, but I’m still not convinced.”
“There have been more times than that,” I said. “I just can’t list them all off the top of my head.”
“Well, let’s both just hope that you’re due to have another one,” Maddy said.
After we had everything ready and the dough was stored away in the fridge, I asked, “That should take care of things until we get back. What do you say? Are you ready to go meet your idol?”
“It’s not like he’s my hero or anything,” Maddy said, but I noticed that she did grab her book on the way out of the kitchen. “I just think it could be nice to meet him.”
As I hung my apron back on its hook, I said, “Let’s just hope that he exceeds our expectations, and in a good way, too.”
“I’m sure he’s just a little temperamental,” Maddy said. “They say that all the great ones are.”
I laughed a little, but not enough to offend my sister. “I’d argue with you about that, but I really don’t care one way or the other. I just want today to be as uneventful as it can possibly be.”
We turned off the lights and locked the exterior door to the Slice as Mark Deacon walked up. “You’re not closed, are you?” he asked incredulously. “What about that free pizza you offered me yesterday?”
“I am so sorry, but we’re working the book signing at the Bookmark,” I said, “But if you’re here to eat lunch, I’ll make one just for you. No one can say that my word isn’t good. When I make a promise, I follow through.”
“No, don’t bother,” Mark said. “It’s okay. I’ll catch you another time.”
I knew that Cindy would be expecting us at any minute, but this took precedence, as far as I was concerned. Who knew how long it would take Mark to come back if I turned him away this time? “You’re not getting away that easily. Maddy, you grab one arm, and I’ll get the other.”
I unlocked the door and glanced at the clock. We’d left the Slice a little early, and now we’d get to the bookshop a little late, but we still had two and a half hours before the big event. What harm could it do to stop to make one of my friends a pizza?
“Would you like a booth or a table?” Maddy asked as we all walked in together.
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather eat in the kitchen with you two.”
I had to laugh at that. “Mark, you left the diner to have lunch with us. You can eat wherever you’d like. If the kitchen is where you want to eat, you’ve got it.”
“That would be great,” he said.
I flipped the oven on, glad that it had a quick-start feature. If I’d had to build and stoke a fire in a brick pizza oven, Mark wouldn’t be eating for quite a while.
He looked at the conveyor oven, and as I kneaded dough into a pan, he asked, “Aren’t you going to throw it up in the air like they do on TV?”
I had to laugh as I said, “Sorry, we knuckle our dough here. There’s really nobody to show off for usually, and besides, I like this way better.”
“That’s okay,” he answered with a laugh. “I wasn’t expecting a floor show.”
“What would you like on your pizza, sir?” I asked as I added a layer of sauce to the exposed dough.
He shrugged. “Just throw some veggies and some meat on it. To be honest with you, I’m not all that picky.”
I did as he asked as Mark took a seat on a barstool by the prep counter, and Maddy pulled out my office chair so she could join us.
“I’m not used to working with an audience,” I said.
“Me, either,” Mark replied.
“I don’t know what you two are so afraid of. I do my best work with a crowd of onlookers,” Maddy said with a broad grin.
Just as I finished making the pizza, the oven’s preheating cycle was finished, and I slid it onto the moving conveyor belt.
I wiped my hands on my apron, and then asked, “I’m dying to know. How did you manage to get away from the grill?”
He shrugged. “I finally decided that I’ve been turning you down long enough. Besides, my customers just rave about your pizza, and I just had to try some of it for myself.”
“Your food is great, too,” Maddy said.
“Let’s face it. We’re both good at what we do,” Mark said. “But I just had a yen for pizza, and I can’t get Laney to make it.” Laney had worked at the grill forever. In fact, she’d been there longer than Mark had, and had become kind of an institution there over the years. I knew that it took a lot for Mark to break away from work to visit us, and I greatly appreciated it.
“I’m glad you came. Are you going to the big book signing later?” I asked.
Mark looked at me with the distaste clear on his face. “No, to be honest with you, I tend to stay away from crowds when I’m not at work. I get tired of being around people all of the time.”
“You don’t have to tell me. That’s why I hang out in the kitchen,” I admitted. “I like people, but there’s nothing like being back here and making things happen.”
We were still chatting when the pizza slid out the other side. I cut off the oven, and then asked Mark, “It’s not too late to change your mind. Would you still like to eat this here, or should I slide it into a box so you can take it with you?”
“Are you pressed for time?” he asked.
“Not at all,” I said, hoping he hadn’t seen me just glance at the clock on the wall near his head.
“Then I’ll eat it here, on one condition.”
“What’s that?” Maddy asked.
“You two have to join me. There’s no way that I can eat all of this by myself, and if I bring it back to Laney, she’ll smack me with her spatula.”
Neither one of us had eaten yet, and it would probably be a long time before we got the opportunity again. “That sounds good to me,” I said. “How about you?”
Maddy nodded her approval as well, and the three of us had a slice apiece.
Mark took his first bite, and then grinned broadly. “Hey, this is really good.”
I had to laugh at his reaction. “Don’t act so surprised. It’s not the first one I ever made, you know.”
“I didn’t mean that,” he said. “I heard it was good, but I didn’t think it was this tasty.”
“Thank you, kind sir,” I said. “Maddy makes a mean pizza, too.”
My sister shook her head as she finished another bite. “You can give me all of the credit you want to, Eleanor, but you are the pizza guru around here.”
“Well, it’s pretty clear that I don’t know what I’ve been missing all these years.” He looked at the half pizza that was left after we finished eating, and then asked, “I changed my mind. For pizza this good, I’m willing to risk the wrath of Laney. Could I possibly get this to go?”
“You surely can,” I said as I boxed it up for him.
“What do I owe you?” Mark asked as he reached for his wallet.
“Put away your money. There’s no charge for the first one,” I said.
Maddy grinned and added, “That’s the way we snag you as a customer. First we get you hooked, and then you have to come back for more.”
“It’s a pretty sure bet that I will. Thanks again. You both made my day.”
As we walked him out, I felt good that Mark had finally made the trek to our pizzeria.
That glow died pretty suddenly, though, when I saw a man dressed in a chef’s outfit storm out of the Bookmark, throwing things as he left.
It appeared that Chef Benet had finally arrived, and we were late for his big entrance, though it appeared that we were catching his grand exit.
Chapter 5
“C
hef, it’s an honor to meet you,” Maddy said before I could even get a word in myself to try to stop his hasty retreat. Chef Benet was dressed in his white smock and high hat, standing on the sidewalk in front of the Bookmark looking up and down the promenade as though he wasn’t exactly sure where he was. All that was clear was that he wanted to be just about anywhere else. Maddy grabbed his arm and continued, “May I say that you are a true genius in the kitchen.”
hef, it’s an honor to meet you,” Maddy said before I could even get a word in myself to try to stop his hasty retreat. Chef Benet was dressed in his white smock and high hat, standing on the sidewalk in front of the Bookmark looking up and down the promenade as though he wasn’t exactly sure where he was. All that was clear was that he wanted to be just about anywhere else. Maddy grabbed his arm and continued, “May I say that you are a true genius in the kitchen.”
It certainly got his attention, but more importantly, Maddy’s assault froze him in his tracks. He shrugged off her compliment, and then said, “I don’t dispute it, but if it is true, then how can they expect me to create anything of worth in there? The demonstration kitchen that they’ve set up is subpar on so many levels I can’t even begin to correct it in the minuscule amount of time I’ve got left.”
“Surely someone with your talent can take the worst setup imaginable and still make magic,” I said, doing my best to emulate my little sister and mollify him. If he walked away now, Cindy’s bookstore might never recover from it.
He studied me closely, and then turned his attention back to Maddy. “Who exactly are the two of you?”
“We’re thrilled to say that we’re here just for you,” I said. “I’m Eleanor, and this is my sister, Maddy.” I held out my hand, hoping to get a grip on the man myself before he could bolt away on us.
Instead of taking my offered hand, Benet looked at it as though it were an undercooked cabbage and pointedly ignored it. “You both are responsible for this mess, then.”
“Then let us make it right for you,” I said.
“How could you possibly manage to do that? You aren’t chefs. You make pizza for a living,” he added, making it sound as though there was something fundamentally wrong with our line of work. I could see how the man could alienate people so quickly. He seemed to have a real knack for it, and I was having a more and more difficult time swallowing my own sharp retorts. Maddy must have been medicated to keep her mouth shut so completely.
“It’s not gourmet Italian food like you prepare,” I admitted, “but we do serve good food for a fair price, something that shouldn’t be treated lightly.”
He looked at me with open disdain. “And is that all that you aspire to in this life, to create food that is just good, not great?”
“I’m not a genius,” I said, “But I’ve got my fans, too.”
Benet looked as though he was having a difficult time believing that. “No doubt they are all philistines and ruffians who don’t know what real food is supposed to taste like.”
As he continued to verbally lash out at us, Oliver finally came out of the bookstore, followed closely behind by Cindy and another woman I didn’t recognize. She was a little older than the rest of us, dressed in a fancy outfit and sporting some nice earrings and a bracelet that cost more than my car.
When she spoke, there was an air of long suffering in her voice. “Antonio, please come back inside.”
“We can fix this, Chef,” Oliver said, adding his own voice to the mix.
“Patrice, you need to stay out of this,” he said to the woman, dismissing her with a flick of his eyes, and then Benet turned and focused his withering gaze on Oliver. “How exactly could you possibly correct this now, when you had all day yesterday to do it right the first time?”
I had to give Oliver some credit. Most folks would have collapsed under the assault, but he stood his ground and took it. In a soothing voice, as though he were coddling a delicate child, he said, “Come in and tell me, and I’ll make it work.”
The chef shook his head in refusal, and the older woman tried again. “You are under an obligation here, Antonio. You simply must not walk out now. It is unprofessional.”
“Need I remind you yet again that you are my wife, and not my business manager?” he asked. “There is an option in my appearance contract that allows me to decline to sign or demonstrate at any venue if the set is not done to my satisfaction. Well, it’s not, so I decline,” he said.
“You can’t do this to me,” Cindy said, the despondence thick in her voice. She was close to tears, and I believed that everyone there knew it. “I’ll be ruined.”
“I can’t concern myself with your problems. If this was so important to you, then perhaps you should have done a better job preparing for me,” Chef Benet said. He studied her with an air of smug superiority that made me want to throw a pie in his face.
“We did everything you asked,” Cindy said, sniffing a few times to keep her emotions in check for as long as she could manage it.
I knew it wouldn’t take much more pressure to make her crack like an eggshell. I stepped up and said, “Chef, if you leave, your fans won’t have a chance to tell you how much they love you. Wouldn’t it be criminal to deprive them of that?”
He bit his lip, and then said, “Perhaps.”
It was the most ground he’d given yet, and I decided to push my luck a little further. “It would be tragic if they didn’t have the opportunity to see you in person.” Wow, I almost choked on those last words, but I wasn’t doing this for me; I was trying to protect Cindy from failing before she even had a chance to succeed. We had drawn quite a bit of attention where we stood from folks innocently strolling down the promenade, and I didn’t think this debate would do anyone any good being held out on the sidewalk. “Could we at least discuss it inside?”
“Where do you suggest, in your pizza joint?” he asked with as much scorn as I thought he could gather.
Heaven forbid we taint our delicate feet by stepping inside there. This guy was every bit the prima donna we’d been told he was. “I thought we might go back inside the bookstore so we can work out a solution to all of this,” I said.
“Fine,” he said in annoyance, and managed to lead the rest of us back in.
Cindy grabbed my arm as we hurried in after him and whispered, “Thank you, Eleanor.”
“We won a battle, but there’s still the war,” I said.
As soon as we were inside, a woman in her twenties dressed entirely in black came in after us, carrying an overnight bag over one shoulder. A telephone was in her free hand, and it looked so natural there that I doubt she ever had it very far away.
“Sorry, but the signing isn’t due for another two hours,” Cindy said as she stepped between the newcomer and Chef Benet.
The woman looked at her watch and then said, “Actually, it’s supposed to occur in one hundred and eleven minutes, to be exact.” She turned to Chef Benet, and then said, “I just got into town, Chef, but this is too important to let slide. We need to talk, and I mean right now.”
“Everyone, I’d like you to meet my executive producer, Jessie Taylor,” Benet explained graciously, and then he turned to her. “Jessie, I’m afraid you wasted a trip. I told you last night that we have nothing to talk about.”
She clearly wasn’t happy with his reaction. “Oh, no? The network and I believe otherwise, and if you know what’s good for you, you will, too.”
Benet sneered a little, clearly an instinctive reaction to most of his exchanges with lesser beings. “Believe what you will,” he said. “Right is on my side.”
Jessie turned to me and asked plaintively, “Is there someplace we can talk in private?”
“I don’t quite understand why you’d want to talk to me. I don’t have anything to say to you,” I said, knowing full well that wasn’t what she’d meant. I was trying to diffuse the situation, but from the way she reacted to my humor, I may as well have saved my breath.
“I’m talking about us,” she said, pointing to Benet and then to herself.
“Why would you ask me? I don’t own this place,” I said, “You’ll have to ask the owner,” as I pointed to Cindy.
“That would be fine. You’re more than welcome to use my office,” Cindy volunteered. “It’s just through there.”
Jessie started for the office door, but Benet didn’t follow her.
She stopped and turned, looking hard at him. “Chef, I won’t ask again.”
“If only I could believe that,” Benet said, and then he followed his producer into Cindy’s office. He must have tried to shut the door, but it was new, and the hinges were clearly out of alignment. It began to close, and then slowly swung until it was open a few inches, enough for us to hear whatever they were saying, no matter how much privacy they were under the impression they were enjoying.
I had my doubts that they even realized what had happened, especially after listening to a few moments of their conversation.
“Enough browbeating,” Benet said to her fiercely, not keeping his voice down a bit as far as I could tell. “You may as well stop trying to bully me into doing what you want me to do. You don’t own me, and neither does your network.”
“That’s funny, we’ve got a contract that says exactly that,” Jessie said. “Do I even need to remind you that you have an obligation to film two more seasons of your show, and we still have the option to extend that to two more after that?”
“You can’t make me be creative for you!” There was a hard edge to his words now. “You are trying to tie my talents up in a yellow-dog contract that I can’t and won’t fulfill. I won’t do it.”
“Then you’ll be in breach of that yellow-dog contract,” she said, her voice and tone matching his now, “and we’ll hold your feet to the flames until it is satisfied. If we let you go, you shouldn’t even think for one second that anyone will touch you after we’re finished with you.”
“We’ll just see about that,” Benet said. “My attorney informs me that we have several legal precedents on our side. I am walking away, and the sooner you people accept that, the better off we’ll all be.”
Jessie sounded confused by that. “I don’t understand why you’re so adamant about leaving a successful and proven show, anyway. What are you planning to do if you leave us?”
He looked almost proud as he answered, “Whatever my heart tells me to. The lawyers can settle it amongst themselves, but you can’t keep me against my will. I’m going to the Food Bites Network, and I’m leaving you and your pitiful minions behind me.”
When the door burst open, we were all trying to pretend that we hadn’t heard what had just been said, but it was impossible to do.
Benet’s wife took a step toward him, but one glare from the chef sent her scurrying backward as though she’d been slapped.
Benet stopped in front of me and held out his hand. “Give me the key to your restaurant.”
I wanted to refuse, but no matter how I felt about the man at the moment, I’d promised Cindy that he could have the place as his greenroom. Who knew what kind of mess he was about to make of it, but I’d just have to hope that my kitchen would fare better than his confrontations had today.
As I handed the key to him, I said, “I don’t want to find a thing in my kitchen or dining room touched while you’re there, do you understand me?”
He laughed in my face. “Are you actually threatening me? You’re nothing but a pizza maker.”
I had had just about enough of this windbag’s attitude, and I started to say something when my sister, Maddy, of all people, put a restraining hand on my arm. I took a deep breath, smiled gently at her, and then allowed myself to speak with the chef in a voice that wouldn’t reflect how I really felt. “I treat my restaurant like it’s my baby, and trust me, you don’t want to get this mother mad at you.”
He took the key, stared at me another second, and then stormed out without another word.
“I’d better go after him,” Patrice said, and hurried out the door.
Maddy punched my shoulder lightly. “Wow, I thought you were going to smack him right there. That took guts.”
“You know how protective I am about the Slice,” I said.
“Just don’t get angry with me,” she said with a grin.
Cindy turned to Oliver and asked, “What are we going to do? Is he even going to bother coming back?”
The assistant just shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I’m really not sure. In the meantime, we’ll have to plan for both contingencies.” An idea seemed to blossom in him as Jessie came out. “If worse comes to worse and he doesn’t make it back in time, I’ll do the demonstration myself.”
Jessie heard it, as I was certain she was meant to, since he’d said it with enough volume for folks out on the street to hear him. “Forget it, Oliver. If Benet bails out on this, the show is cancelled, and I’m not just talking about this book launch.”
“I could take over his show, Jessie,” Oliver said, the pleading thick in his voice. “All of Chef’s best creations were inspired by me, and I can prepare them better than he could ever dream of doing.”
“I’ve told you before, Oliver, it’s Ms. Taylor to you,” Jessie said. “And to be honest with you, I don’t care if you’re the best chef that’s ever been born; you’re not getting your own show, at least not as long as I’m running things there.”
“Why not?” Oliver demanded. “I’ve got talent. You’ve tasted my dishes and said so yourself.”
She nodded impatiently, the irritation of this distraction clearly starting to bug her. “In the kitchen, you might just be as good as you keep telling me that you are, but all that really matters is that the camera doesn’t like you. If you want to keep the petty little job you have now, I suggest you go find Benet and try to persuade him that it’s in his best interest to give his talk and demonstration today.”
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