by T. F. Pruden
While as yet uncolored, the lumber framed plasterboard would receive two coats of burgundy paint. It would then be topped with a section of grey-painted lattice a single foot high and surrounded by a dark stained wood frame. The lattice framework though yet to be built would match similar examples not yet mounted atop the upholstered benches of the dozen booths that encircled the room.
The miniature fences should deliver a little privacy to future diners.
Wayne hoped they also removed the remaining elements of cafeteria style from the restaurants’ new décor.
He mounted the wall atop the carpet with anchors drilled into the concrete floor through a two by six inch wood plate. He stabilized it using twelve-inch triangular footings aligned with the ends of the booths. The sturdy barricade left space for four tables on either side. It preserved the ability to host groups of diners while granting additional privacy to those who preferred not to sit in a booth.
The lamps hanging from the ceiling would be moved. Soon they would once again align with the center of the tables. It would be a chore handled by an electrician provided courtesy of their landlord. He scheduled the work to begin after he finished the decorative wall.
The effect created by the new addition to the space pleased Wayne. He smiled at the imagined look of the finished product. He planned to complete it on the weekend before starting on the booths the following week. The painting was now complete. With the short wall standing he was sure the renovations would conclude in time for the planned opening.
In spite of his growing fatigue the results pleased him.
It had been a hastily developed plan.
Wayne yawned and noticed the first pangs of hunger. He checked his watch and wondered at the late arrival of his partners. Wayne hoped Maurice planned to make them dinner when he eventually arrived. He was sure today he had earned it.
Rene worked the key in the glass lobby door of the restaurant in the Marlene Hotel.
The chef stood with his hands filled by a pair of grocery bags. He waited for Rene to open the locked restaurant. Rene fumbled with the key before unlocking the door to the restaurants’ foyer and pushing it open for Maurice. He locked the door behind them and followed the tall man.
Rene wondered what new work their youngest partner would present to them today. He smiled at the anticipation though he said nothing.
Rene noticed the tall chef was in a miserable mood when he collected him to shop for dinner. The fellow said nothing about what might bother him. Though tempted to ask what was up he would wait until the chef spoke rather than badgering the taciturn fellow.
Maurice was fiercely private and reserved with both thoughts and feelings at the best of times. He was also routinely unimpressed by those seeking to intrude upon his closely held privacy.
Rene spent the previous evening with Jane. He was in a mood best described as triumphant. She agreed with his decision to add the breakfast service to the new restaurants’ concept. It would enable him to be directly involved in the daily operations of the business.
The plan convinced him after it earned her approval.
He was also sure his partners; in spite of their initial disappointment at expanding the restaurants’ operations, would come around to his way of thinking. Rene was certain addition of the breakfast service would deliver new clientele to their business. Far from having a negative impact it would publicize the new place to the local community otherwise unaware of it. This he felt outweighed any connotations attached to a breakfast joint that might negatively impact the fine dining aspirations of ‘Rene’s at the Marlene’.
His partners would soon forget they had opposed the proposed change once they had seen the results of his brilliant notion.
Of this he was now certain.
Rene looked forward with confidence to realizing the success of his short considered and as yet unspecific plan.
Maurice waited with feigned patience for his partner to open the foyer door.
His anger smoldered beneath the surface of a taciturn appearance. The frustration increased as the minutes passed. He remained unsure of how best to respond to the change in concept he now would be forced to accept. Beside his personal distaste for the notion he was certain it was a bad idea. It was sure to doom the business to failure as a fine dining establishment.
Maurice had agreed to join the partnership on the promise of opening a fine dining restaurant. He had resigned his position at the best place in town to take on the role of head chef on behalf of an opportunity that no longer existed. The bitter anger rising inside him was, he felt, justified. His landlord and senior partner meanwhile thrilled at the opportunity to play at being a restaurateur.
For this must be his primary goal in purchasing the business.
It was apparent enough to convince Maurice of Rene’s motivation.
Having given up his place with the great man Maurice had one week remaining before he would enter the ranks of the unemployed. In just two he would be forever tied to the impending disaster. He was certain this awaited everyone attached to the now damaged concept that was ‘Rene’s at the Marlene’. That he had that much time remaining before the restaurant opened he was grateful. While he had yet to decide on his ultimate course of action, he was sure he must somehow avoid the coming failure.
For he was certain failure must now be the inevitable result.
The poorly considered change to what had been a challenging opportunity tied to a weak location was asking too much. He watched Rene unlock the door and hold it open for him. Maurice wondered with disgust how a man so apparently foolish could have accumulated the financial means with which to purchase the business. The words of caution spoken by the great chef returned to him.
As he listened to Rene fumble with the door lock behind him the notion the man must be unceasingly lucky occurred to him.
The tall chef walked away before Rene could turn. He did not want his feelings betrayed by his face. Maurice strode through the lounge and into the kitchen. He would prepare dinner while further considering his thoughts. The solitude of the hot stove and the simple joy provided by the cooking would free him from his growing anger. If feeding Wayne was all he could do for him he hoped it might relieve some of the misery impending failure would soon visit upon the fellow.
Maurice had grown fond of Wayne in the short time he had known him.
“Allo’ Wayne,” Rene called as he turned and walked down the short hallway toward the dining room, “sorry we are late!”
As he reached the arched entrance to the dining room, he saw Wayne standing beside a low and unfinished plasterboard wall. It stood in the center of the carpeted floor between the rows of booths and extended almost to the back wall.
His young partner grinned at him.
Despite a lack of paint the effect created by dividing the space was undeniable if not dramatic. It pleased Rene at once.
“Tabernac!” he said to his partner with a wide smile spreading across his face, “Dat’ wall was an excellen’ idea for sure!”
“Glad you like it,” Wayne replied, the grin playing on his lips, “and I won’t say I told you so. Good to see you. Is Maurice with you or am I going to have to get my own dinner?”
From behind him came the answer.
“I ‘ave turn’ on ‘da grill ma’ frien’ an’ your dinner will be serve’ soon enough,” Maurice’s voice was soft.
The tall chef gave a low whistle of appreciation before continuing.
“An’ ‘dat wall she’s gonna be a beautiful t’ing when she’s complete for sure! What a great idea ‘dat was for ‘da room, Wayne!”
“Thanks Maurice!” Wayne answered.
He turned to face the partner who stood in the open kitchen door with an apron tied around his waist.
“I promise it’ll look a lot better when I get it finished,” he continued in a voice filled with enthusiasm, “which I hope will happen tomorrow though I might have to apply another coat of mud depending on how my sanding job
looks before rolling on the paint.”
“Tabernac!” the tall chef spoke with admiration, “you ‘ave ‘da skills ma’ frien’ an’ we are lucky to ‘ave you! Are you in ‘da mood for a steak or should I make you somet’ing else for your dinner tonight, eh?”
“I’m hungry enough for two steaks tonight my friend,” he answered, “with garlic toast and potato and vegetables too if you’re up to makin’ ‘em for me.”
“Dat’s why I’m ‘ere mon ami,” the tall chef replied, “an’ tonight you are in for a treat, for I ‘ave decide’ to make for you a sauce Bordelaise ‘dat you will never forget!”
“Don’ forget about me monsieur chef!” Rene called to the tall man as he walked over to stand at Wayne’s side, “for I am ‘ungry enough for a pair of steaks ma’self, Tabernac!”
“Mon freres you will be ‘appy to ‘ave wait’ for your meals,” Maurice said as he turned away to reenter his kitchen, “you ‘ave ma’ word as a gentleman!”
Wayne smiled and prepared for what he knew would be a short wait.
He would enjoy a delicious meal prepared with care by the tall chef who despite their minor disagreements he now thought of as a good friend. Wayne turned to Rene at his side. He tested the low wall by pushing against it.
It pleased him to confirm its stability.
The simple design impressed his partner.
“You ‘ave lagged it into ‘da floor?” the older man asked, one of his eyebrows raised and a look of mild concern on his face, “I ‘ope ‘dat you cleared ‘dat wit’ Richie before drilling t’rough ‘da carpet an’ into ‘dat concrete, Tabernac!”
“Not only did I check with him first,” Wayne said with a smile, “but I borrowed his concrete drill, anchors, and the cement I used to secure it.”
“Dat’s perfec’ ‘appiness!” Rene replied, chuckling at his partners’ good sense.
He looked with admiration at the professional caliber of construction used in building the half height wall.
“An’ ‘dese lil’ triangle footings are an excellen’ idea too, Tabernac!”
“Two by four framed and lagged into the concrete,” Wayne spoke with pride, “the angle provides excellent stability to the structure and natural separation for the tables. They’re only twelve inches long and leave plenty of room so the patrons won’t be tripped up by them.”
Rene nodded, impressed by the work and appreciating the thought Wayne put into the design.
“You will mount ‘da lattice work on top of ‘dis wall too?” he asked, “or are you keeping ‘dat for ‘da booths only?”
Wayne smiled, pleased to discuss his plan for the remaining improvements and wanting his partners’ approval.
“The lattice works will be used atop the booths and the wall,” he said.
Wayne moved next to the wall and held his hand a foot above its top to demonstrate.
“It’ll be twelve inches high, stained two by four framing will surround the lattice,” his voice was serious, “and stained darker than the booths and carpet. The lattice will be painted grey to match the walls and the tablecloths.”
“Tabernac ‘dats a lot of work you ‘ave plan’ for ‘dis place yet ma’ frien’!” Rene said, “are you sure you will ‘ave time to finish before we ‘ave to be open?”
“Easily and with time to spare,” Wayne replied with confidence, “the painting of the whole place was the job I worried about for time and now that it’s done the rest will be pretty simple.”
“Simple?” Rene exclaimed, “dere’ looks like a lot of work to be finish’ ‘ere yet, Tabernac!”
“The lattice works are easy builds and all the same,” Wayne explained, “each booth and section is the same size, so I’m only making a single cut for each component that goes into the construction, multiplied by as many as I need to finish. I’m using three sections for each run of booths and four for the pony wall, so only sixteen total at no more than a couple of hours each plus mounting time. I figure three days from start to finish.”
“Dats’ an’ excellen’ plan mon frere!” Rene said.
The variety of skills possessed by his young partner impressed him again.
“An’ I can’ wait to see it when it’s done, ‘dis place is gonna be somet’ing we can be proud of for sure, Tabernac!”
Wayne smiled in agreement as he pictured the finished dining room. In spite of his earlier doubts it would soon present an impressive appearance. It would be a match for the surprising quality of the efficient kitchen facilities. He wondered for a moment if it would be enough to overcome the difficult location. He turned to his partner again, noticing with a start he had walked over to seat himself in the booth and moving to join him.
“So ‘ave you decided upon our sous chef?” Rene asked as he sat, “or are you an’ Maurice still fighting about ‘dat, eh?”
Wayne laughed as he slid onto the bench seat across from his partner.
“We’ve decided upon hiring two sous chefs in fact,” he said, “one as the full time sous chef slash lunch guy and a second fellow as the regular replacement guy. That way we’ll always have well trained and high quality relief available whenever our front line chefs are out sick or in need of a day off.”
“Dat’ souns’ like anudder’ excellen’ plan,” Rene observed, “but ‘ow does it affec’ our payroll ‘aving ‘dat exra’ guy on our staff?”
“Because the second cook will be working only a couple of days per week it doesn’t affect it at all,” Wayne answered his partner, “effectively we’re still only paying a single salary for our seven day calendar but splitting it between two people, so no additional cost.”
“Da’ secon’ guy ‘es ok wit’ only two day’ per week?” Rene asked.
“As he also works full-time at his parents’ joint out in Headingly he’s good with it as it turns out,” Wayne replied.
A note of satisfaction was evident in his voice.
“He came looking for only a part-time gig with us,” he said, “and we’re gonna be lucky to have him ‘cuz his parents’ joint is a dessert place and he’s a great baker who’ll save us money by providing us with a cut rate on high quality desserts!”
“Tabernac!” Rene exclaimed with admiration filling his voice, “it souns’ like you guys ‘ave ‘ad yourselves a good week, eh?!”
“We really have,” Wayne answered with a smile, “Maurice is pleased with our new hires and he’s an excellent judge of talent too!”
Wayne nodded at Rene before continuing.
“Of course we also had some really high quality candidates to pick from,” he said, “the school sent us their three best new grads from this years’ class and the baker slash second cook was a top grad from last year personally recommended by the head instructor at Red River.”
The sound of the kitchen door opening interrupted the conversation. Maurice appeared at their booth with a tray he rested on the edge of the table while he unloaded the appetizers.
“Try ‘dese escargots mon freres,” he said, “an’ ‘dese potato skins pour mon ami Rene which I ‘ave made special, an’ I ‘ope you enjoy da’ mushroom caps which I ‘ave tried to improve wit’ a change to ma’ recipe, your dinner is coming soon an’ I wan’ your opinion’ of each of ‘da appetizer’ after you ‘ave tried ‘dem, eh?”
With that the tall chef turned away.
The appetizers he left for the men to sample at their leisure. Each of them noticed the excellent presentation of the plates. It increased their already whetted appetites.
A sample of escargot convinced them presentation was the lesser of two values awaiting their evaluation.
They fixed each other with a look of delight across the table and threw themselves onto the dishes steaming from the table in front of them. The dining room was silent save for the sound of the two men eating.
In the kitchen the tall chef continued his work unseen. The conversation was abandoned as the partners enjoyed the fruits of his labor.
Beyond the glass doors of the
still closed restaurant the hotel bustled with the increasing traffic of the darkening Friday evening. The rhythmic thump of bass pounded from the audio system of the rapid filling hotel beverage room.
Only yards removed from the dining room where they sat it grew.
The partners ate without conversation, ignoring the dull persistence thumping from beyond the restaurant walls. Each soon lost himself appreciating the delicious appetizers. The noise increased while they ate.
The partners ate without speaking. With the music now audible, they grew conscious of the double-edged sword represented by the hotel surrounding them. Though it had created their opportunity it might also lead to disaster.
Each man did his best to ignore the realization.
Part Five:
Small Winnings
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Wayne sat back and exhaled.
Satisfaction tinged the exhaustion he now accepted as a constant companion. He prepared to interview the final applicant for the servers’ position. He spent the late hours of the Monday afternoon interviewing five skilled and experienced women for the four positions he planned to fill.
Though sure they would be satisfied with any of them he met with a further six candidates the next afternoon. He now proceeded with care. Experience taught him both process and the resulting selections required it.
Wayne knew the hospitality industry survived on its service staff. Far from being eye candy or order takers the best servers were highly skilled sales people. In their hands each day the success or failure of every restaurant, night club, or hotel beverage room including the Marlene Hotel next door, was held.
The want ad he placed in both local dailies ran for only the two days at the end of the earlier week. Phone calls from more excited applicants than needed would swamp him through the weekend.