Priceless : A Novel Part 15

Then she stepped into the steamy maelstrom that was the kitchen and started to find out.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.

The first one to notice her was a short guy who was spraying water from an overhead faucet onto a pan that seemed almost big enough for him to climb into.

"Yo, Kat brought a friend-une amie ... jouer ..." ..."

Kat laughed. "Not to play, Ronnie, to work. This is Charlotte. She's going to show you guys how to do it back here."

A handsome black guy leaned back from the grill and looked Charlotte carefully up and down. "I'd like to see how she does it. Go ahead and show us, baby."

Charlotte smiled and said nothing.

The man looked around the kitchen. "Elle est toute pet.i.te, elle sera inutile." "Elle est toute pet.i.te, elle sera inutile." The Creole was heavily accented, but Charlotte could grasp it: "She's very small, she's going to be useless." She kept her smile in place. The Creole was heavily accented, but Charlotte could grasp it: "She's very small, she's going to be useless." She kept her smile in place.

Another chimed in. "Ouais, mais des pet.i.ts mains ferraient paraitre ta bite plus grosse." "Ouais, mais des pet.i.ts mains ferraient paraitre ta bite plus grosse." OK, this one was easy: "Yeah, but her tiny hands might make your d.i.c.k look bigger." OK, this one was easy: "Yeah, but her tiny hands might make your d.i.c.k look bigger."

And a third, "Je lui donnerais bien un truc a sucer." "Je lui donnerais bien un truc a sucer." Apparently, this one wanted to give her something to suck on. Apparently, this one wanted to give her something to suck on.

OK, enough was enough. Charlotte cleared her throat. "Je doute que tu me proposes quoi que ce soit d'appetissant, mon cheri, mais tu peux peut etre travailler de nouvelles recettes, eh?" Roughly translated, she'd responded that she doubted they had anything she'd find appetizing, but perhaps she could teach them some new recipes.

There was a moment of shocked silence and then a roar of laughter. A good-looking girl who spoke dirty French? Bonus!

"Bravo, baby." Ronnie wiped his hands dry. "Now that we've got the traditional s.e.xist bulls.h.i.t out of the way, let's put you to work."

IT WAS INTERESTING to see how long a manicure lasted in a busy restaurant kitchen. Hers was destroyed immediately, because Ronnie made her cut her nails, put on long rubber gloves, and tie her hair back under a hairnet. He handed it to her and sent her into the bathroom. With Kat's help, she turned it into a Rosie the Riveter kind of '40s chignon. However, when she came back out, he just barked out a laugh and pulled the net over the front of her hair, too. to see how long a manicure lasted in a busy restaurant kitchen. Hers was destroyed immediately, because Ronnie made her cut her nails, put on long rubber gloves, and tie her hair back under a hairnet. He handed it to her and sent her into the bathroom. With Kat's help, she turned it into a Rosie the Riveter kind of '40s chignon. However, when she came back out, he just barked out a laugh and pulled the net over the front of her hair, too.

"The idea, cherie cherie, is to cover all your hair so it doesn't drop into the food, get it? This is a kitchen, not a fashion show." He turned to Kat. "How come you don't give your pretty friend a job in the store?"

Kat shrugged. "Because I don't need any help in the store, and I have no money to pay her with. Apart from that, it's an awesome idea." Clearly, she and Ronnie were old friends.

"And why isn't she out front? Too clumsy to wait tables?" He was obviously smart and inquisitive, and after a brief nod from Charlotte, Kat gave him the 411.

He sighed. "Well, cocotte cocotte, you'll be well hidden back here, and you'll earn your money." He looked around at the other guys, who were larking around and playing with knives. "If anyone asks, just say you have a jealous boyfriend and you don't want anyone to get hurt. They should leave you alone." He looked her up and down again. "I myself am immune to your charms, because my heart belongs to Kat."

Kat threw a slice of red pepper at him.

Once Ronnie had introduced her to the excitements of the dishwashing station-scalding water! industrial soap!-Kat leaned against the wall to watch her tackle her first stack of saute pans.

"Charlotte, do you want to come and stay at my place for a bit? Until you get settled?"

Charlotte was surprised. She'd a.s.sumed she was going to stay at Millie's for a while, especially as she and Jackson appeared to have signed a peace treaty that morning, but that didn't mean she was totally cool with it. He was very attractive ... and the sofa wasn't all that comfortable.

She smiled at Kat. "Why are you being so incredibly nice to me? We just met, and you've found me a job, gotten dragged into an online gutter, and, most importantly, been a friend. Do I seem that pathetic?"

"Yes," said Kat seriously. "Utterly pathetic." She waited a beat, then giggled. "No, you don't seem pathetic at all, but I live alone, I have a spare room, and I thought it might be fun. I'll make you pay rent once you get paid, don't worry. It's not charity, it's sensible."

Charlotte was thrilled. "I would love to come live with you. That would be totally awesome." A thought occurred to her. "However, it might mean more trouble for you, with whatever wacko is following me. And it might get worse, I have no idea."

Kat laughed. "Well, let's just try it and see what happens, OK? If I wake up and find a horse's head in my bed we can reconsider."

Charlotte frowned.

"You have seen The G.o.dfather The G.o.dfather, right?" Kat looked horrified. Charlotte shook her head. "OK, well, then that's what we'll do tonight after your shift. Here." She scribbled on a notepad. "Here's my address, it's not very far. Call me when you're done, and I'll walk from my house as you set out from here. We'll meet in the middle."

"I don't have my stuff. It's at the Excelsior Hotel."

"Oh, that's right, where you were turning tricks." Kat grinned. "We can pick it up on the way later."

Charlotte was overwhelmed with grat.i.tude. "You are so awesome, Kat. I can't thank you enough."

"Oh, I expect I'll think of some way for you to pay me back," her friend replied airily. "Besides, I'm planning on going through your bag looking for nice clothes to steal."

Charlotte laughed. "There's a 1972 Pucci clutch you can have if you like."

"Right, then, I'm leaving." Kat mimed a running start and gave Charlotte a quick hug. "Have fun with the lads. They're harmless really."

"I hope so," Charlotte replied. "And if all else fails, I'll blow them away with my high-power water cannon." She waved the hot-water jet threateningly and laughed.

AS KAT WALKED out of the restaurant, the man snapped a few shots and then clicked the lid on his camera. She wasn't his main target, but she was nice local color. He hooked his camera to his laptop, downloaded and then uploaded the shots, and added them to his site, all while sipping his latte. Thank G.o.d for the Internet. He settled back and ordered a m.u.f.fuletta with three kinds of meat. It was hungry work, ruining someone's life. out of the restaurant, the man snapped a few shots and then clicked the lid on his camera. She wasn't his main target, but she was nice local color. He hooked his camera to his laptop, downloaded and then uploaded the shots, and added them to his site, all while sipping his latte. Thank G.o.d for the Internet. He settled back and ordered a m.u.f.fuletta with three kinds of meat. It was hungry work, ruining someone's life.

CHARLOTTE'S SHIFT DIDN'T end until nearly midnight, and she was dead on her feet by the time Ronnie said she could leave. But she was proud of herself. She hadn't complained once, nor had she taken a break or slowed down at all. Ronnie and the other guys had noticed. end until nearly midnight, and she was dead on her feet by the time Ronnie said she could leave. But she was proud of herself. She hadn't complained once, nor had she taken a break or slowed down at all. Ronnie and the other guys had noticed.

"You know, nana nana, you look as if the heaviest thing you've ever lifted is a charge card, but you're strong, doll. You worked like a guy." Ronnie slapped her on the shoulder, hard. "We'll see you tomorrow, OK?"

She nodded and smiled tiredly. "Thanks, Ronnie."

She called Kat from the bathroom as she pulled off her hairnet. "Oh, G.o.d."

"What?" Kat had answered just in time to hear Charlotte's shocked exclamation.

"My hair. It's stuck to my head. Apart from this one piece in the back that's sticking up like Alfalfa. I don't know that I've ever looked this bad in my life."

Kat laughed at her. "You might be revealing hidden rivers of vanity, Charlotte. Haven't you ever worked hard before? Don't you sweat?"

"Well, of course, but usually something more interesting is going on than just washing dishes."

Her friend just snorted. "Stop looking at yourself in the mirror, princess, and head out on Main Street. I'll meet you halfway, OK?"

"Are you sure it's going to be safe? It's after midnight. What if no one is around?"

More laughter, then Kat hung up. Charlotte frowned, shrugged on her jacket, and headed out the kitchen door, down an alley alongside the restaurant. Two steps out, and she saw why Kat had laughed.

There were more people in the French Quarter at 12:15 at night than there had been during the day. It was swarming with people, and music of all kinds competed for airs.p.a.ce on the streets. Girls who were either hookers or just really bad dressers were catcalling and hollering at the groups of men wandering aimlessly down every block, and the smell of beer and pot permeated the air. Everyone seemed to be laughing and having a great time, and once Charlotte got over the shock of it, she felt herself starting to smile, too. It was like the world's biggest block party, and as Charlotte walked along, someone handed her a martini gla.s.s, to go. Well, why not?

After a minute or so, she met up with Kat, and the two of them walked along companionably.

"Do you get used to it if you live here?"

"What?"

"The constant partying."

Kat laughed. "You're from Manhattan, right? Well, aren't there parts of Manhattan that are buzzy like the French Quarter?"

Charlotte looked doubtful. "Well, sometimes, but never like that all the time. It's Sunday night, no special event, and it's like a parade back there."

"New Orleans is all about parades, but yeah, I guess it is a little unusual. The French Quarter is a special place. But New Orleans is much more than just that part. You'll see. And yes, you get used to it, especially if, like me, your family business is in the Quarter. I just allow time to get from one end to the other, especially if it's after ten A.M. A.M., or the weekend or, heaven forbid, Mardi Gras."

They had left the French Quarter and were in what Charlotte recognized as the Garden District. Wrought-iron fences just managed to keep the lush greenery of the gardens in check, and large, elegant houses could be seen set well back from the street. Some were floodlit, some still had all their lights on, and others were silent and dark.

"Here's us." Kat turned into one of the larger gardens.

"What? This is your 'little place'?"

Kat giggled. "No, dumba.s.s, I have the back house." She led the way through the garden, onto a brick path that ran alongside the house. Tucked in the back was a smaller, one-story building. Wisteria covered the front, and the red brick facade was punctuated with small white windows.

Charlotte sucked in her breath. "Oh, my G.o.d, I'm going to have a cute attack. Everything's going dark."

Kat laughed. "I know, adorable, right? When my dad said he had a friend who had somewhere for me to stay, I had visions of a cellar or something." She shrugged as she fished in her purse for the key. "What can I say? I'm the pampered favorite child of a rich southern gentleman. I cannot change who I am."

She pushed open the door, and Charlotte stepped in. And fell in love.

THE BACK HOUSE had originally been for servants, but they must have been pretty appreciated servants, for the main room stretched maybe thirty feet from side to side. A large fireplace anch.o.r.ed one end, while French doors lined the walls on both sides. had originally been for servants, but they must have been pretty appreciated servants, for the main room stretched maybe thirty feet from side to side. A large fireplace anch.o.r.ed one end, while French doors lined the walls on both sides.

"You need to be able to open the whole thing up in the summer, because it's so hot and humid. A breezeway was the only air conditioning they had back then." Kat pointed out the other features of her obviously much-loved home. "A fireplace was necessary for heating water and because occasionally the nights get cool."

Charlotte looked around. "Is it just this one room? Where do you sleep?"

Instead of answering, Kat led the way around the corner. Tucked in an ell was a small kitchen with a charming skylight and a short hallway leading to two small bedrooms. Wide plank floors and deep windows showed how old the building was, and the simple furnishings were in keeping with the period.

"Wow, you should be an interior decorator, dude. This place is awesome."

Kat grinned. "Thanks. It's all part of my urge to style everything. I love this place. I couldn't be happier. I'm glad you like it, too." She sighed. "Now, let's have a drink. Allow me to introduce you to the Sazerac, a local specialty."

When Charlotte eventually fell into bed, her head spinning, she realized she hadn't thought about her father all day. She wondered if he was thinking of her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR.

Charlotte didn't need to be at the restaurant until mid-morning, so the next day she accompanied Kat to her store. They split some coffee cake and opened up Kat's laptop, checking the horrible Web site.

Charlotte shivered. "OK, that's creepy. And slightly embarra.s.sing."

The front-page picture on the site was her emerging from the alley behind the restaurant. A high-powered lens had obviously been used, because every detail of her greasy hair was highlighted, and in case you'd missed it, the commentary was acerbic.

"How the mighty have fallen! The former socialite Charlotte Williams has turned to working in a kitchen to make ends meet (guess no one wanted to pay to f.u.c.k her anymore), and it's not the best look she's ever offered us. Nice hair, Charlotte! It must be quite a shock, ladies and gentlemen, to have to work for a living instead of living off stolen money. Meanwhile, b.i.t.c.h Watcher hears that Jacob Williams was attacked in jail yesterday and had to be taken to the infirmary. How nice to see two fat cats finally get what they deserve!"

Charlotte was already dialing her father's lawyer.

"It's true, I'm afraid." Bedford seemed a little distant on the phone, but maybe she was imagining it. "Someone pushed into him in some line or other and stuck him with a shiv, or a skiv, or whatever it is they call it. A sharp instrument of some kind." He rolled over Charlotte's nervous questions. "He's fine, Charlotte, and probably safer in the infirmary than he is in the general population."

Charlotte took a breath. "I thought you were going to try to get him moved to a minimum-security facility, Arthur."

The lawyer sighed. "This is is the minimum-security facility, Charlotte. It's still jail, you know. I can hardly request that he serve his time in Turks and Caicos, can I?" the minimum-security facility, Charlotte. It's still jail, you know. I can hardly request that he serve his time in Turks and Caicos, can I?"

IT TOOK A while for Charlotte to calm down, but eventually, she pulled it together. while for Charlotte to calm down, but eventually, she pulled it together.

"I'm so tempted to go back to New York, to be nearer to him."

"Well, unless you pretend to be a guy, get arrested for something, and somehow get sent to the same jail, you're not going to be able to help him," Kat said. "I'm not making light of it. I realize how awful this must be for you, but I'll be blunt. He broke the law, right?"

Charlotte nodded sadly.

"Well, as my schoolteachers would have said, and probably did, if you can't do the time, don't do the crime."

"My teachers said that, too."

"Well, there you go then. If you want, I can help you drag up, and I'll drive a getaway car very slowly so you'll get caught."

Charlotte imagined the scene and started to laugh. "I got lucky meeting you. There aren't many people who would offer to be a really inefficient criminal sidekick after less than a week of knowing someone."

Kat smiled. "Well, maybe they lack imagination. I'm doing a whole mental review of the wardrobe in Bonnie and Clyde Bonnie and Clyde. That cream beret she wore almost makes jail worth it."

Charlotte wandered around the store, flipping through the clothes. "You have a commitment to fashion that is awe-inspiring."

"Why, thank you."