03

Maybe, she thought to herself, I should quit now. Before they fire me.

But she still needed today’s paycheck.

Julie, in front of Muse, crossed her arms. As the manager, she was dressed in a fancy white suit, with a pretty white bowtie. The contrast against her auburn hair and pale, freckled face was startling. She was beautiful in a delicate way. With the uniform, she looked like a fourteenth-century virgin in a painting, preparing for her wedding day.

« Gardner, » Julie said.

Here it comes.

« Follow me. »

It was already too late. How fast had Adrien Vitale managed to lodge a complaint ? Muse tried to picture the woman in her mind, but she came up with nothing. All she remembered of her was the sharp black tuxedo and the silver rings on her each of her fingers, glinting in the bathroom’s fluorescent lights.

Muse followed Julie, just to the edge of the kitchen. From here, almost the entire restaurant―in all its velvety, dimly-lit glory―was visible.

Julie nodded once to a corner. « See that ? »

It was a booth, shadowed in black curtains, reserved for only the most important of customers. Muse had never seen it used, but she’d heard rumours that only the President was allowed to sit there. They called it the Elizabeth table. Two silhouettes had been seated within : nameless, faceless, but powerful all the same.

« I see it. »

« I want you to wait on that table. » Julie’s mouth had pursed into a fierce, determined line. « No. I don’t want you to just wait on it. I want you to grovel for it, I want you to fawn over it. If someone at that table asks you to get naked in the middle of the restaurant and perform a sacrificial rite, I want you to get naked and perform a sacrificial rite. »

Why me ? Muse swallowed and nodded.

« And don’t think this lets you off the hook for being late today, » Julie added. « That made me look bad. But you surprised me last week, when you convinced Mr. Richardsen to order a slice of chocolate cake. Anytime a waiter has brought up dessert, in the past ten years, that old bat starts raving about heart attacks. It’s inevitable. Somehow, you didn’t just get him to shut up, you got him to eat a damn slice of heart attack on a silver platter. So this table is yours. Alright ? »

« Alright. »

Julie hadn’t come here to fire her, so Adrien Vitale hadn’t complained yet. Maybe she’d left the Cayenne, and Muse would never have to see her again : the stranger who’d given her a tampon in her time of dire need.

Julie’s expression softened, maybe because of how obvious Muse’s terror had become.

« Listen. I know you’ve heard rumours about the table. I know what they call it, too. The Elizabeth. Because it’s either going to go really well, or really bloody. You know why I’m giving this table to you ? Because I don’t want this to go bloody, and out of everybody here today, I think you can manage that. »

« Who’s sitting there ? » Muse managed.

« It doesn’t matter. All you need to know if this : if you think the regular customers at this restaurant are filthy rich, those two have the power of world domination in their hands. Do not get on their bad sides. Serve them, serve them well, and they’ll tip you enough to pay for your monthly bills. »

Muse drew in a breath. She had a terrible feeling that Ashleigh was watching her. This time, she’d have to watch her back. She hopefully knew better now than to get a five-hundred dollar bottle of wine dropped down her neck.

« I’ll take it, » said Muse.

« Great. Attagirl. You didn’t have a choice anyway. Now, go―they’re waiting. »

Muse smoothed her clammy palms on her oversized pants. She didn’t know who these had belonged to―didn’t want to know. And if she focused on her appearance, on the dishevelment of her clothes, she’d lose all her nerve. So she approached the Elizabeth table with all the sunniness she normally kept reserved for waitressing.

The black velvet curtains parted for her, and Muse could finally see the two customers.

One was an old man, in only the most essential sense of the world. He might have had white hair and a weathered face, but everything about him reeked of power and grace, energy coiled within his lean, suit-clad body. If Muse had had daddy issues, she would’ve lost her shit right then and there. His jaw was sharp, his rugged features were handsome, and Muse had never seen eyes that dark and piercing.

Until she turned a little to the left. The man may have ben handsome, thanks to the power that radiated from every fiber of his being, but the woman was . . .

Beautiful was the wrong word. It was too tame.

To Muse, she was the embodiment of sex appeal. Her eyes were black, much blacker than the ones of the man next to her―he had to be her father, there was too much resemblance―as if they devoured light, devoured the sun itself. Those eyes caught Muse and pinned her, impaled her.

And the rest of her . . . she had sleek black hair. Pin-straight and glossy. Her mouth was full and soft-looking and red. She had dark eyebrows, and from the side, her jaw slanted so sharply that Muse wanted to touch her. Just to see if she’d be cut.

The woman might have belonged on a fashion magazine, if it weren’t for her nose. The bridge of it had a bump, as if she’d broken it, once or twice or several times. It gave her the appearance of a Roman general, or some kind of warlord. Muse liked it.

Then Muse’s eyes slid down : towards the woman’s hands. It was usually the first thing she noticed about a woman, but now it felt like an afterthought. However, the sight of the woman’s fingers doused her in complete shock. They were slender, each covered with several glinting silver rings.

The woman from the bathroom. The stranger who had given her a tampon.

Oh fuck.

« Hello ? » said the man, more than a little impatiently.

Had he been calling her ? Muse turned red at the thought of herself staring, eyes glazed, at the woman.

« Um, hi, » said Muse. « I’m Muse. Muse Gardner. I―I’m going to be your waitress for today. What are your drinks of preference ? »

Great. She found herself attracted to some woman, and she became a stuttering mess. What was wrong with her ?

« My name is Julien Vitale, » said the man. « This is my daughter, Adrien. I would like a water, two cubes of ice, and she would like a Shirley Temple, no ice. »

Muse noticed the way the man’s jaw flickered as he picked up a menu. She also noticed the way Adrien Vitale narrowed her eyes, slightly, as if she didn’t like the idea of her father ordering for her.

« Is that all ? » Muse asked. She had never carried a notepad and a pencil ; committing orders to memory came to her as naturally as breathing.

« That’s all, » said Adrien. « Thank you. »

There had been no recognition, no brief moment of shock there. Had Adrien noticed her at all ? Had she thought, Oh, shit, there’s the crazy bitch on her period ? Maybe it was better that Adrien hadn’t realized. But Muse couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed anyway. For no reason at all.

« I’ll be right back with your drinks, » Muse said tightly.

The second she returned to the kitchen, Julie was at her side. The first thing she said was : « What’d they want ? »

« Water, two cubes of ice, and a Shirley Temple, no ice. »

Julie immediately barked out orders to the nearest cook, who said, « Our ice is in the shape of crescents, not cubes. »

Julie’s eyes became slits. She approached the cook, grabbed him by the collar and said, « Did I ask what shape the ice was in ? I want two fucking cubes, and I don’t care if you have to whittle them down yourself. Actually, forget that. You’re fired. »

The cook’s face bloomed the colour red. He struggled to speak. When Julie let go of him, he ran.

Julie surveyed the kitchen. « Who is going to give me two cubes of ice ? »

Nobody moved.

« Somebody is going to do it in the next minute, or all of you are fired. »

At once, everybody in the kitchen burst into motion, waiters and cooks alike.

« Here, » said someone Muse didn’t recognize, offering up two glasses : one clear, one the fruity orange-red of a Shirley Temple. They slid easily onto a silver platter. Muse noted the two precise cubes of ice floating in the water, and wondered just how important Julien Vitale had to be in order to send Julie into such a frenzy.

As soon as the drinks were prepared, Julie lightly shoved Muse in the direction of the table.

« Go, » she said. « Go now. »