❝You saved him."
Carm finally looked at her, a tear falling halfway down his cheek. He sniffed loudly and rocked forward in his chair. He twisted his hands anxiously, his eyes red-rimmed as he stared at her. "Then why isn't he here?"
Rene took a bre...
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"Carm!" Nat yelled from the office. "Make your fucking phone stop ringing!"
Carmy glanced over his shoulder then back at the menus scattered on the counter in front of him. At his shoulder, Syd's braids swung as she tipped backward to look over his shoulder. "Uhh, busy!" He called. "Can you just fucking hang up please?"
He turned back to the menus, bracing his forearms on the counter and staring down at the notations on the paper.
"OK," he said. He shoved a hand into his chestnut curls and sucked in a long breath. "So. Lemon chicken piccata with maybe like a vegetable dish..."
The phone continued ringing.
Syd glanced over him again. "You can get that if you need to. I can keep looking at the menu."
"No, it's OK." Carmy moved a piece of paper to the front of the stack. "Sugar can get it."
Syd drew her eyebrows together. She braced herself against the counter and hopped onto it. "Um, OK." She directed a look full of ebbing patience at the kitchen floor. "Well, Chef, the impression I got the other day when you told us not to answer the phone anymore because of that quote" - she made finger quotes in the air - "fucking Fak who wants to burn this whole fucking building to the ground - unquote - was that you actually meant what you told us."
Carmy's head dipped down until it was nearly touching the counter. One flyaway curl brushed against his nose. "Well I'm fucking busy right now," Carm breathed, his patience quickly wearing. "I can't be answering the fucking phone every two minutes."
Syd remained silent.
Carm sighed and straightened, his eyes roaming the kitchen. "Am I the only one who knows how to do his fucking job." He slammed the countertop with his palms for emphasis, loosening a curl which fell over his face.
The phone in Nat's office had stopped ringing. Silence fell over the restaurant.
"Oookay," Syd breathed. She leaned over and gathered the menu papers into a stack, tapping the edges against the table so that they lined up evenly.
"What are you fucking doing right now?" Carm snapped, his voice rising. He started up, blue eyes fluttering with accusation. "What are you fucking doing?" He grabbed for the papers, but Syd held them to her chest. "Chef, what the fuck!?"
Syd propped the pile of papers in her lap and gave him a look. She quietly cleared her throat. "Chef. Respectfully. If you want employees to, say... answer the fucking phone, or help make a new menu every day, or cook the best food that I personally have ever tasted... you're gonna need to get your shit together. Or you're gonna be doing alllll of this..." she gestured slowly, elegantly around the kitchen. "...Alone."
Carmy blinked down at the counter, his attitude sobering. He swallowed, and tapped his fingers against the countertop, anger giving way to cool, nerve-shattering reality. He half looked at Syd. "Hand me that gum, please. Chef." He motioned to the pack of gum across Syd. She popped a piece from the aluminum and handed it to him. He chewed it slowly, working the knots of anxiety from his jaw.
"CARMEN!" Nat screamed. "Get your fucking ass in here right now!"
The phone had started ringing again.
Syd lifted her eyebrows. "I think you should go," she whispered.
Carm nodded and lifted his hands from the countertop. "Yeah," he said hoarsely. As he backed away from the counter, he briefly met Syd's gaze and gently rubbed a fist over his heart. I'm sorry. He'd learned the sign during his time in New York.
Mouth quirked in acknowledgement, Syd returned the gesture and offered a short nod.
Then Carmy had turned and was sprinting full-force to Nat's office, curls jostling with every step.
But just as he reached the end of the kitchen, Nat appeared in the doorway in front of him holding the still-ringing phone in her hands. Carm stopped, stepping back before they collided.
Nat tilted her head and offered him a fakely sweet smile. The skin beneath her eyes was dark and heavy as though she'd sacrificed one too many nights of sleep. Despite her exhausted appearance, she wore a dark dress and accents of makeup that distinguished her as a woman who wouldn't take shit.
"Hey, Carm," she said sweetly, the friendliness of her voice just barely holding her frustration at bay. "This is for you." She wrinkled her nose in a smile as she shoved it into his chest.
Carm accepted the phone wordlessly, looking intimidated. "Thanks... Sugar."
Nat pressed her lips into the impression of a smile. "No problem. Just next time maybe resist the urge to be a fucking dumbass about it. We're trying to make this hellhole actually manageable. Remember?"
"Yeah." Carm said. "OK. Sorry about that."
"Hm," Nat hummed thoughtfully. "Apology rejected." She spun to look at Syd with a slightly warmer but still sarcastic expression. "Keep him from becoming a total asshole, will you?"
"Oh, uh, sure," Syd shrugged. "I mean, that's what I get paid for around here, I guess. Not like, my actual skills that I went to school for or anything. It's fine."
"Thanks love." Nat started backing into the hallway. She locked eyes with Carmy. "I mean it," she mouthed at him.
Carm stared into the hallway until she disappeared then turned to give Syd a dazed look. Syd raised her eyebrows and shrugged. It was his fault if he was being a jerk. She wasn't getting involved.
The phone still vibrated in Carm's hands. Answering it, Carmy strode through the kitchen's swinging door to the front of house. Syd could hear his voice fading as the door slid shut behind him.
"Hey, uh. This is the Original Beef of Chicagoland. I'm—."
AUTHORS NOTE
Helloooo! Undecided whether I'll keep posting this story or not, so please let me know if you enjoyed it in the comments! I'd love to hear your thoughts
