Work Text:
Richie now has two pains in the ass. Three, if you count Claire showing up at the alley door before service, lips chapped and eyes watery. He'd caught pain in the ass number two (Syd, stammering, wide-eyed), trying to talk her down - pain in the ass number one, of course, was nowhere to be found (likely having a small, guilt-fueled meltdown in the walk-in, deal with that later). Richie interrupts Syd's fumbling attempts to defuse the situation, shoos her up front to check on some new (nonexistent) plates.
"Listen, Claire, you can't be back here." he smarms, and puts a hand on her shoulder, gives her a firm push back out of the doorway, apologizes "insurance reasons, we're gonna get in a lot of trouble if the wrong people spot you back here."
"I have to see him," she's burbling. "He has to, he can't..." Richie shuts the door behind himself and turns to face her.
"Look, I'm sorry. Carmy's an asshole," Richie tells her, all seriousness, and dear god the man is, but also, fuck this shit. "But you can't be doing this, Claire. We've got a business to run."
"A business to run?" Angry is at least better than the tears, which cut off like she's a faucet. "It's always fucking something with all of you isn't it?"
"Yeah, that's right." Fuck her. "What you want me to say, Claire? We're supposed to drop our entire fucking business because you decided you're more important than all our jobs?"
"Listen, I just need to..."
"Fuck you, you're not doing shit!" He hates yelling. He will not yell. He might as well have yelled, she's got that rabbity look. Now he's starting to feel like an asshole. "Get the fuck out of here, Claire. Don't do this shit again."
"Fine." She takes a step back, jaw set. "You tell Carmy..."
"I'm not telling Carmy shit, Claire. He broke up with you. That's not my goddamn business." Except for the part where Carmen's the fastest study at dick-sucking Richie's ever met. But adding more shit to the dumpster fire here isn't going to get the girl to leave.
All wounded pride, she turns and walks away on sensible shoes.
Richie really hopes she's not going back to work. Waits a few seconds after she's gone, slips back inside.
Sydney looks up from the prep on Carmy's station. "Thanks," she says.
He nods. Glances at Tina: tiny, stone-faced nod. "Where'd cousin go? Walk-in?"
"Office." Tina tells him. "Good work, Richard."
He shrugs, nods. "Had to be done. I'll get Carmy together."
Sydney's smiling down at her brunoise. Tina nods, goes back to mincing garlic. Richie gets while the getting is good.
Carmy's totally oblivious in the office, which solves at least one problem. Marcus is leaving when Richie arrives, some tiny punk kid in front of him with enough piercings to set off a metal detector. "Yo Richie, meet the new baker. This's Blue."
"Pleasure, Blue." Richie shakes the kid's hand, all gravitas. "Glad to have some backup for our boy here. When do you start?"
"Shadowing tonight, chef." the kid tells him. Good handshake on him. Very clean hands. "Scheduled solo next week."
"Well great, look forwards to working with you, Blue. Welcome to the Bear."
A few more pleasantries, and the kid's off to meet the rest of the team: Richie shuts the door to the office behind him. Carmy's leaned back in his chair, staring at a stack of cookbooks.
"Cousin." he says, startled. "All good?"
Totally oblivious. "Yeah." Richie said, comes up with an excuse. "Saw Syd on your station, wanted to check with you."
"Yeah all good. Scored a baker. Nice kid." Carmy stares at him. "Something happen?"
"No, no." God damn, Carmen's instinct for trouble has reasserted itself, and now Richie's getting the "I don't believe you" stare. "Your ex-girlfriend has trouble hearing no. Was trying to bother the kitchen."
"Shit." Carmy's feet come off the desk. "I'm sorry man, I dealt with it."
"I know you did." Richie looks at him really looks. "This wasn't anything you did." Even on his worst days, Richie didn't, and doesn't, post up outside of Tiff's place. There's some shit you just don't do.
"Maybe I should talk to her."
"Hell no." Carmy looks down, nods, looks up.
"Thanks cousin."
"Any day." Time to drop the subject. "So, new baker?"
"Yeah. Yeah. He brought in some samples, give 'em to the rest of front of house..."
Pain in the ass number one patched up their baker problem - Marcus has family shit going on, what with his mother - and won the good graces of front of house. Richie lets Fak take the box to share around with the new kids, and puts his head back in the kitchen, where Ebraheim is coming back from smoke break in time to let Tina take the new kid out for a smoke.
Their delicate operation is moving like perfectly tuned clockwork now, worn smooth in the right places. Hell yeah.
Syd's slapping some tape on a deli quart, looks up at him: he nods, slightly.
"Carmy good?" she asks.
"Yeah. He had no idea." Richie shrugs. "He told her off a couple nights ago: she shouldn't have turned up here."
Sydney looks pissed. "She told me he stood her up on a date."
"Yeah, well, maybe in her mind, but he broke it off with her fuckin' yesterday."
She gives a low whistle. "Daaamn."
"Yeah. She turns back up, you can shut the door in her face. Maybe lock it if no one's out back for a minute." It's gonna be hot as fuck in the kitchen, but then again, better that than psycho ex-girlfriends.
"Heard." Sydney's relieved. "Here, um." She shoves a small deli container at him, a spoon. Some tiny bite with an orange flower is perched inside. "I was gonna have Carmy try this: it's an amuse-bouche for tonight, just a special. Can you, um."
"A moose booch." he echoes and she laughs. "Okay." Scoops up the bite.
"Oh, um, the flower's part of it, it's edible." He flicks his eyes up. She's not laughing: he nudges the flower onto the spoon, takes the whole thing in, conscious of Sydney watching him, attentive, anxious.
It's all savory and just salty enough, some kinda funk... peppery where he crunches through the flower. "Chef, that's awesome."
She grins, real wide. "Yeah?"
"Oh yeah. Didn't know you could eat the flower."
"It's, um. Nasturtium. They're good, right?"
"Hell yeah. I'll prep front of house on it... you got another couple of those?" She doles out the containers with a bit of a grin on her face. "Thanks Syd. Keep it up, eh?"
"Thanks." She looks awkward, glances away: Tina's coming back with the kid. She smiles at them, wide, warm. All's right in the older woman's world. "Hey, Tina, about Claire..."
"Trouble, Chef?"
"She's kinda stalking one of our kitchen staff." Glance at Blue: kid doesn't need to know Carmen's personal details. "We're keeping the back door locked for a minute, unless there's deliveries."
"Heard, Chef."
Bit before service, Carmen comes out of his office, and is surprised by the locked door. "Someone's got a stalker, Chef." Blue chirps back, already dialed into the kitchen, confident, ready over in pastry.
"Huh." He looks up: half the kitchen is pretending not to notice anything is happening.
"I'll grab a smoke, if you're going out." Sydney says, wipes her station clean. "Mise is all done."
They step out together into the twilight, and Carmy just looks at her. Says:
"What is this, a fucking buddy system?"
"It's a don't let my partner get stabbed system." Sydney tells him.
Carmy looks so crestfallen. "Claire's not like that, she's just upset."
"Maybe, but she can be upset somewhere else." He sighs, real long, put-upon. "If you feel so bad about it," Sydney says, "you can give me a cigarette."
"Yes, Chef."