Luis frowned. “What?”
Paolo glanced up and winced. “Sorry. I said, I’ve done your jobs so you can do mine. I meant it when I said I didn’t want you stuck on the dishwasher if you didn’t have to be.”
“You want me to, like, cook and shit?”
“If you can cook without the shit, that would be great. But yeah. If you’re happy to do it?”
Luis chewed his bottom lip. Cooking for a few hours yesterday afternoon had gone well because he’d recognised most customers and had been able to guess their orders when he’d missed what they’d said. A busy breakfast service was something else. Luis could fry eggs till the cows came home, but what good was that if no one had asked for them in the first place?
Paolo rose from the table and was in Luis’s face before he heard him coming. “What are you worried about?”
“I’m not worried.”
“Liar.”
“Yeah.”
“So what is it?”
Luis turned his gaze to the floor. He’d mopped it twice yesterday and dried it by hand with paper towels. Was it clean enough? Did Paolo think he hadn’t mopped it at all?
Paolo nudged him. Luis forced himself to meet his searching stare and not shrug him off. “I don’t like taking orders. I miss things, then they walk away before I can ask them what it was. And I don’t know what it was that I missed, so I look like a damn fool anyway.”
“If you knew what you’d missed, you wouldn’t have missed it, so that makes no sense.”
“It does when you’re me. I’m never sure if I’ve really missed something or I’m being paranoid.”
“Oh.” Paolo nodded slowly. “I’ve never thought about it like that. How about you cook, and I’ll do the peopling?”
“What about the dishes?”
“I’ll do them too.”
“Why?”
“Because spending six days a week washing dishes isn’t going to help you get a better job when the time comes. You need more tangible experience you can sell to another employer.”
“I don’t want another employer.”
“Because you like washing dishes? Or you like your dick in my mouth?”
Luis blinked. “Um, both? Neither? I don’t know. I just have no plans to get another job, unless this is you letting me go.”
Paolo laughed. “I’m not letting you go. I just think it’s better foryouto do more while you’re here than wash dishes all day, but I’m not going to make you cook if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t mind. I like cooking.”
“Now he tells me.” Paolo rolled his eyes and returned to his accounts.
Luis left him to it and approached the grill. Lighting it was simple enough. He put the egg pans on to heat and filled the bread baskets for the toaster. Paolo had already brought out the sliced mushrooms and seasoned tomatoes. Luis checked the bacon and sausages he’d stashed in the front fridges last night and prepped the black pudding.I’m ready... I think?
Who the hell knew?
Luis poured coffee and took it to Paolo. “You usually make the tea.”
“So where’s yours?”
“Haven’t made it yet.”
