Lauren Weisberger 3-Book Collection: Everyone Worth Knowing, Chasing Harry Winston, Last Night at Chateau Marmont. Lauren Weisberger
downright snotty. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Where do you cook?’
‘I’m studying to be a chef, actually,’ he said, diverting his eyes from mine.
This was a new and interesting development. ‘A chef? Really? Where?’
‘Well, nowhere yet, really. I already graduated from CIA and I’m taking a few classes at night. Like pastry-making.’ He laughed.
‘How’d you get into that?’
‘I’m not particularly into it, but it’s good to know. Aside from making omelet dinners growing up when it was my turn, I didn’t really ever cook. I lived in Ithaca for a summer in high school with a buddy and worked as a waiter at the Statler Hotel on Cornell’s campus. One day the general manager saw me refilling a guest’s coffee by holding the carafe almost four feet above the cup and freaked out – he loved it. He convinced me to apply to the hotel school there. He got me a few scholarships, and I worked the whole time – busboy, waiter, night manager, bartender, you name it – and when I graduated he hooked me up with a yearlong apprenticeship at a Michelin-starred restaurant in France. It was entirely his doing.’
I was vaguely aware that my mouth was quite unattractively hanging open in shock at this information, but Sammy graciously saved me from myself by continuing.
‘You’re probably wondering why I’m working as a bouncer at Bungalow, huh?’ He grinned.
‘No, not at all. Whatever works for you. Um, I mean, it’s just a different side of the hospitality industry, right?’
‘I’m paying my dues now. I’ve worked in what feels like every imaginable restaurant in this city.’ He laughed. ‘But it’ll be worth it when I finally open my own place. Hopefully it’ll be sooner rather than later.’
I must have still looked confused because he just laughed. ‘Well, clearly the first and foremost reason is the money. You can actually make a decent living piecing together a few security and bartending gigs, and I have a bunch of that stuff going on. It keeps me from going out at night and spending, so I stick it out. Everyone says there’s nothing like opening a restaurant in this city. I’ve been told it’s really important to know all the social politics, from who’s sleeping with whom to who’s really important and who’s just pretending they’re a player. It doesn’t really interest me, but I don’t exactly run with that crowd, so there’s no better way than to watch them in their native environments.’
He clamped a hand over his mouth and peered at me. ‘Look, I probably shouldn’t have said all that. I didn’t mean any offense to you and your friends, it’s just that—’
Love. All-consuming and overwhelming love. It was all I could do not to grab his face and kiss him full on the mouth … he looked so horrified.
‘Seriously, don’t say another word,’ I said. I moved my hand to touch his reassuringly, but I lost my nerve at the last minute and my fingers ended up awkwardly suspended above the table. Lucinda from Magnate would’ve been cool enough to pull off that move, but I, apparently, was not. ‘I think it’s really great what you’re doing. I can’t imagine some of the things you must see every night. Ridiculous stuff, right?’
It was all he needed to hear. ‘Christ, it’s incredible. All those people – they have so much money and so much time and don’t seem to want to do anything but beg me to let them into these clubs every night,’ he said. His eyes met mine.
‘It’s got to be kind of fun, though, isn’t it? I mean, people fall all over themselves trying to be nice to you,’ I managed, too distracted by his gaze to think straight.
‘Oh, come on, Bette, we both know it’s hardly like that. They kiss my ass because they need me, not because they know anything about me or like me as a person. I have a very short shelf life for respect and likability – namely, the few minutes between the time they arrive and the time they walk inside. They wouldn’t remember my name if they saw me anywhere away from that velvet rope.’
The look of distress returned to his face, and I noticed how his forehead wrinkled when he frowned, and it only made him cuter. He sighed and I had a bizarre desire to hug him. ‘I have such a big mouth. Forget everything I just said. I really don’t take the job all that seriously, so I shouldn’t make it sound like it’s a bigger deal than it really is. It’s just a means to an end, and I can put up with anything if it’ll get me closer to my restaurant one day.’
I was desperate for him to keep talking, saying anything about anyone just so I could continue to watch his perfect face and examine the way his mouth moved and his hands gestured, but he was finished. When I opened my mouth to tell him that I understood exactly what he meant and had never really thought of it from that perspective, he gently cut me off. ‘I guess you’re just easy to talk to,’ he said and smiled so sweetly that I had to remind myself to breathe. ‘I’d appreciate if you didn’t mention any of this stuff to anyone at your office. It’s just easier for me to do what I need to do without everyone, well, uh, you know.’
I sure did know. Without everyone knowing where you came from and where you were going, trying to decide at every moment if you fell into their own personal ‘worth knowing’ or ‘safe not to acknowledge’ categories. Without everyone angling for position or trying to manipulate the situation to their own benefit or slowly but surely chipping away at your confidence because it made them feel better about themselves. Uncle Will was joking when he always said, ‘If you can’t have, discredit,’ but most of this crowd weren’t. Yes, I got it, loud and clear.
‘Of course. Totally. I understand completely. I, uh, I think it’s really cool what you’re doing,’ I said.
Another blinding smile. Ah! I tried to think of something, anything, I could say that would elicit another smile, but one of us finally remembered that we were there on business.
He seemed completely recovered from any moment of vulnerability when he said, ‘I’m getting a coffee, and then we can figure out the event details. Can I get you something?’
I shook my head and pointed to my coffee cup.
‘No grande sugar-free vanilla extra-hot no-whip skim latte?’
I laughed and shook my head again.
‘What? You think I’m kidding? I actually order that fucking drink every time I come here.’
‘You do not.’
‘I do, I swear I do. I made it through twenty-some years of life being perfectly fine with a cup of regular coffee. Sometimes I had it light and sweet, and sometimes late at night I asked for it decaf, but it was definitely just coffee. Then a friend mentioned how good lattes were. Soon after that a girl from school announced that adding flavoring made it even better. The rest of it just followed, and it’s gotten totally out of hand. I wish, just once, they’d refuse to make the damn thing, just say, “Get ahold of yourself, Sammy. Be a man and drink a goddamn cup of regular coffee.” But they never do and, alas, neither do I.’ And with that, he was off.
I watched as the barista flashed him an undeniable I’m-yours-for-the-taking smile. I don’t think I blinked the entire time he was gone, and I audibly exhaled when he reclaimed his seat next to me.
‘Okay, enough confessional for one day. Should we get this party worked out?’ He brushed the back of his head, and I couldn’t help thinking that I’d seen him do that a million times before.
‘Sure. What first?’ I sipped my coffee and concentrated on looking cool and professional.
‘How many did you say the event is for?’
‘I’m not exactly sure, since I haven’t put together a finalized list yet’ – or any list, for that matter, but he didn’t need to know that – ’but I’m thinking it’ll be in the area of a couple hundred.’
‘And will Kelly & Company be bringing in its own people for everything or using ours?’
Again,