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KITTY WIPED THE SWEAT THAT formed on her hairline with the back of her hand as she stood over the stove.
"Chefs, we gotta sharpen our knives when we get a sec!" Carmy called out.
"We gotta sharpen your brain when you get a sec," Richie scoffed.
Tina and Kitty both laughed. The latter of the two doing so under her breath, not giving Richie the satisfaction of her amusement.
"You've been here for two weeks, and we've been havin' money problems for two weeks," Richie scoffed. Standing by Carmy. Glaring at him, "One plus one equals you're an asshole, Bobby Flay."
"Don't call me, Bobby Flay," He told him, "Kitty, you stir that pot for me, please, chef."
"Sure, chef," Kitty responded, doing so.
"What's our best day here?" Carmy asked. His question directed towards Richie.
"Five," Richie responded.
"Okay, Ebraheim, get me a pot for the jardinière," He called out over his shoulder before looking back at Richie, "So, if we do six, that'll get us through the week, right? So, Ballbreaker."
"Just make it easy and make the fuckin' spaghetti!"
"Don't say spaghetti!" Carmy yelled at him. Before waving his knife around, looking around the kitchen in annoyance, "All these knives are dull!"
Kitty rolled her eyes as she poured the vegetables she previously cut into the pan. Hearing them sizzle as they mixed with the oil.
"Spaghetti's the biggest seller, Carmen. That shit's straight up fire," Marcus commented.
Carmy walked over to grab a different knife, "Straight-up done now, Chef. Behind," He called out as he walked back to where he was previously standing and cutting up the vegetables.
"Yeah, but why?" Marcus questioned.
Kitty nodded, turning around to look at the back of Carmy's head, "We literally have regulars comin' here just for the spaghetti," She pointed out, "Do you know how much money we're losin' now that we're not doin' it anymore?"
Marcus nodded.
"Because fuckin'-Eleven-Madison-Park dickhead here couldn't figure it out!" Richie yelled. Gesturing to Carmy. Anger seeping from his words.
"Housekeeping, Chefs!" Carmy yelled into the kitchen, ignoring the frustrated man beside him.
"What the fuck are you sayin'?" Richie asked, looking around confused, "Anyone understand what he's sayin'?"
