Page 109 of Summers at the Saint
The chef collapsed onto a chair and shook her head when she saw what her friend was eating. “How do you eat that crap and stay so skinny?”
“Never mind that. Parrish’s stepmom showed up at the dorm while I was on lunch break.”
“Madelyn? What did she want?”
“She said she was there to pack up Parrish’s clothes and stuff. But she was definitely mad that we’d already packed everything up. Like, she tried to be all sweet and nice, but I didn’t really buy it, you know?”
“Why do you think she was really there?” Felice brought out a plastic container of fruit and popped a grape into her mouth.
“Maybe she was looking for the bitch book? She didn’t want me going into Parrish’s room with her. Said she wanted privacy because she was so sad. And then she asked if maybe Parrish had left any stuff out, like, not in the room.”
“How would she know about the bitch book? And why would she care?” Felice asked.
“I don’t know. It was just a feeling I had. She kept looking at me this weird way. Like she knew I had a secret.”
“You watch too much television,” Felice said. “In the meantime, I got Charlie Burroughs all up in my grille. He’s been raisin’ hell with me because I fired our seafood wholesaler, which he then rehired. Which is crazy, because the guy’s fish and shrimp are trash.”
Livvy bit off a hunk of her candy bar and chewed. “He’s gunning for me too. He went to Mrs. E and showed her the crappy review Colonel McBee left on the hotel’s website.”
“You know what I think? I think Burroughs must be getting kickbacks from these jokers. There’s no other reason he’d insist we keep buying their shitty seafood and nasty produce.”
“You really think that?”
“Happens all the time in the restaurant and hotel business,” Felice assured her. “All kinds of sketchy deals go down.”
“But why would he have it in for me? I’m just trying to do my job. Do you think it has to do with McBee?”
Livvy picked up a grape and stared at it. “I’ll tell you, though, I do think there’s something odd going on with the hotel mattresses.
“Today, I actually went up and photographed the label on the mattress in McBee’s room after he checked out. And Sonja, thehousekeeper, is supposed to send me pictures of the rest of the labels from the rooms on that wing.”
“Wasn’t there something about mattresses in Parrish’s bitch book?” Felice asked.
“Yeah. I need to go back and see if I can figure out what Parrish wrote.”
“We need to try to decipher her scribbles,” Felice agreed.
“And in the meantime, what do we do about Mr. Burroughs? I can’t afford to lose this job, and I can’t stand the idea of having to move back home with my mom.”
“I like it here too,” Felice said. “I’ve got a free, safe place to live, a great kitchen to work in, high-class clientele. Finally getting to use some of the skills I learned in culinary school.”
“And what about your new bestie?” Livvy teased. “Aren’t I part of what you like about working at the Saint?”
“You’ll do,” Felice deadpanned. “I’ll tell you what I’m thinking. Maybe we go see Mrs. E. She’s the one who hired us in the first place.”
“Don’t you think that’ll get us on Burroughs’s shit list?”
“Like we weren’t already?”
“Speaking of Mrs. E, here’s another weird thing. I think she was sitting in the lobby today, wearing a disguise!”
“What? Like a wig and fake glasses?”
“More like a golfer girl getup, with a hat pulled down low over her face, and sunglasses. She acted like she was reading a magazine, but I think she was kinda spying on me.”
“Thatisweird,” Felice said. “Come to think of it, she had lunch at the Verandah today.” She related how their boss had ordered three different seafood entrées and sent instructions through Garrett to take the grouper fingers off the menu.
Livvy looked at her phone and stood up. “I better go. If Mrs. E is running surveillance on me, I don’t want her thinking I’m some kind of slacker.”
