Grace for Drowning

After another thirty seconds or so, Tony dropped his hands and Logan stepped back.

"You're getting fit," he said, glancing over at me. "You don't even look winded."

I shrugged. "I had a good trainer. Now, I believe you mentioned something about a surprise."

"I did, didn't I?" He paused dramatically. "I got you a job interview."

"I've already got a job."

"Not like this one."

I realized what

he was saying. "Holy crap. You mean in a restaurant?"

He nodded. "It's got a kitchen and everything."

"Oh my god. How? Where?"

"Charlie's been in this town a long time. He knows people. I had him ask if any kitchens were hiring, and this morning someone got back to him."

God, my debt to Charlie just kept growing. For a man who barely knew me, he'd done an awful lot to help me in times of need.

"The restaurant is called The Apollo," he continued. "It's a little Greek place just off the Strip. They're looking for a new junior chef and they agreed to speak with you, see if you're a good fit."

"But they haven't even looked at my resume."

He shrugged. "They'll want to, but the owner trusts Charlie. That said, it's not a guarantee. His word gets you in the door, but you have to do the rest."

"Wow, okay." It was a lot to digest. I'd told Logan I was ready, that I was going to start looking, but I hadn't expected things to move so fast. I figured I had a little time to adjust to the idea while I got my resume in order and started hunting. Instead, he'd just thrown something into my lap.

"You alright?" he asked.

I pushed my fears aside. This was a fantastic opportunity. I hadn't had a drink in months, things with Logan were going great — this was the next step to getting my life back on track.

"Yeah," I said, beaming up at him. "I'm great." I slipped in close and embraced him. "Thank you so much, Logan."

"You're welcome. And all I ask for in payment is free meals whenever I want."

I laughed. "I'm not sure that's how it works."

"Fine, I'll settle for seeing you smile, then."

"Now that I can do."

*****

The Apollo was a super cute little place tucked in the back of an old strip mall. It had the kind of homey decor that made you feel like you were just eating in someone else's living room; colorful table cloths, mismatched furniture, paintings on the walls. I liked it immediately.

My interview was set for three o'clock — right between the lunch and dinner rushes — but, despite the hour, more than half the tables were occupied when I arrived. I imagined that during peak times the place absolutely packed out. As I was led out back to meet the chef, I found my mind already analyzing everything I saw, dissecting dishes, studying the wait staff, trying to get a picture of how the place was run. Restaurants come in many flavors: cheap and hurried, lavish and exorbitant, dim and quiet and romantic. The Apollo had a good vibe, relaxed and competent. Smiling staff, simple plating, generous serving sizes — it was exactly the sort of place I enjoyed.

The maître d stopped outside the door. "He's expecting you."

"Thanks," I replied.

As I passed the threshold to the kitchen, I felt a flutter of nerves. Logan was right, I was ready for this, and God knows I wanted it, but that didn't make me immune to a little old-fashioned apprehension. Job interviews are intense at the best of times, and I still wasn't sure how I'd handle the pressure. There was also the small matter of my ungracious exit from my last position. I had no idea how much my new potential boss knew, but the last year of my life wasn't exactly employee of the month material.

The chef was standing in the middle of the kitchen armed with an iPad and a frown. Checking stock, most likely. People don't understand how difficult it is to run a commercial kitchen. There's so much more to it than just cooking. Every day requires precise planning. Buy too little of an ingredient and you run out halfway through the night, but buy too much and it can wind up spoiling, taking a huge chunk out of your profits. You need to get the balance just right. Multiply that calculation by the number of dishes on the menu, and you have a ridiculous number of balls in the air.