Gastien Pt 1 (27 page)

“Time to get up, Gastien.”

Gastien stirred. “Um..
oui
, Emma…
merci
…” he mumbled groggily. Sighing, he turned onto his side. It was so nice and warm in there…

“GASTIEN! I don’t hear any moving around. You don’t want to be late!”

Gastien groaned. Sweet Jesus! She was right, though. He forced himself out of bed. Then he walked to the door. “
Merci
, Emma. I would have fallen back asleep.”

“Well, now that you are up, if I don’t see you make an appearance within ten minutes to the toilet I will assume you need water over your head to wake up!” she scolded kindly.

“Not on your life! I am putting on my nightshirt now!” promised Gastien. Soon he was washed up, his hair into place with tonic, smelling faintly of limes, and dressed. As he grabbed his coat, Emma wished him luck. Before he knew it, he was out the door. Hopefully he would soon be securing a means of making a regular income. He did not want to waiter for long, but he needed full time work while he established himself as a painter. One step at a time, he reminded himself. Just remember, it’s all about the color.

Mic was waiting for him at
Le Procope.
“Well, are you ready for your grand entrance?

Gastien gulped. “As ready as I will ever be.”

“You have about twenty minutes before they arrive. Study the fresh sheet. Those, as you know, are today’s special features. I have
vin
written by each one. If they order from the regular menu, I hope you remember what
vin
pairs well with what. This is your chance to get a full time position. You can do it, Gaz!” He clapped Gastien on the back.

Gastien smiled wanly, turning his attention to learning the fresh specials. He refused to think about the clientele that would frequent the restaurant or how upscale the service was expected to be. To think about that would make him panic. The twenty minutes flew by.

Mic entered the kitchen. “They are here. Remember, they think I am waiting on them, so they will be surprised. Just don’t panic. Convince them that you can do it. I will help you convince them.”

Gastien had changed into the waiters’ trousers and shirt that Mic had picked out for him. Thankfully they fit quite well, although the trousers were short. Most Frenchmen were about 5’ 5”. He tied on the white apron, took a deep breath, grabbed his tray, and walked into the dining room. He willed his hands not to shake.

The owner’s wife wondered who the darling new waiter was. Good choice, she thought to herself. That face won’t be bad for business! We need to encourage women to dine out more. The owner kept looking at him, thinking he should know him from somewhere. Suddenly, he remembered. This was the boy who had asked so boldly for a job several months back, way too late! He frowned in confusion, scowling at Mic.

“What’s going on here, Mic? I thought you were going to wait on us. This boy does not even work here!”

Mic smiled. “Not yet he doesn’t,
Monsieur
. If you trust my instincts he soon will, though.”

The owner snorted. “Nonsense! You know I only hire experienced waiters.” He turned to Gastien, who was now standing at their table. “I am sorry, Son, but you just don’t have the experience necessary to work here yet, especially not at night. Maybe next year.”

Gastien looked at him solemnly. This was his chance to work. He decided that he was not going to leave without a job. Clearing his throat, Gastien explained honestly, “
Monsieur
. Please, give me just this one chance. I need this job desperately! I have been starving on the streets for the past two months. By some miracle, Mic befriended me about four months ago. Since then, he has been training me.“ The owner started to shake his head no. “Please. What do you have to lose? You are here for dinner, your beautiful wife is hungry, and I am eager to show you that I can meet your expectations. Please,
Monsieur
. Give me this one chance.”

The wife reached out and touched her husband’s hand. “He is right, Maurice. What would it hurt to give him a chance? Remember back when you were serving? Someone had to give you a chance by giving you money to buy this restaurant.” She smiled prettily at him. Gastien stood motionless, training his huge eyes on the owner.

Giving up, Maurice sat back. “Ok, Son. Go for it.”

“Thank you
Monsieur
.” He paused for a few seconds, gathering his thoughts. “
Monsieur
, would you and the lovely
Madame
like to hear the fresh specials now, or would you like me to first get you something to take off the chill of the night?”

“Please, tell us the fresh specials.” This should be interesting, Maurice thought. Their specials consisted of a lot of salesmanship, describing the various herbs and sauces that went into each, along with their accompaniments.

“Very well,
Monsieur
.” Gastien proceeded to explain each of the six fresh specials. He only hesitated once, and it was barely noticeable. One could easily assume he was just taking a breath. By the time he was done, the owner seemed impressed.

“Well done, I must say. Well done. Now, tell me, what
vin
would you recommend with the second item you mentioned?”

Gastien did not hesitate. “I would heartily recommend a pinot noir. The various top notes present in our house pinot noir go perfectly with the chicken and the delicate shallots. Of course, you and the lady might prefer champagne. It may be a special night for the two of you. A truly special night is worth truly special champagne.”

Maurice was impressed. Mic had done a good job training this boy. Now, if only the boy could open up a bottle of
vin
without becoming a clumsy ox. Even more important, could he serve food without knocking it about? So many males were clumsy. “Very well.” He decided to give Gastien a break and not order champagne. Champagne was very difficult to open and required a lot of ceremony. He was not a mean man, after all. “The pinot noir sounds wonderful.”

“Excellent choice,
Monsieur
. Would you each like a glass or may I bring you a bottle?”

“The bottle, please.”

Gastien showed no emotion, but his heart was pounding.
Mon Dieu
, what if I screw up opening and pouring that
vin
? It is not something that is easy to do, unless you have had a lot of practice. I have only done it a couple of times. He left to get the bottle. Gastien presented it label up to the owner. “
Monsieur
? Are you pleased with the maker and vintage?”

Maurice nodded. “
Oui
,
merci
.”

Gastien opened the
vin
, towel over an arm, pouring a small amount into a glass. Maurice swirled the
vin
, smelled it, and tasted. Gastien waited. “This is fine,” said Maurice.

“Very well,
Monsieur
. Please allow me to serve
Madame
.” Gastien then poured a glass for her, filled Maurice’s glass and stepped back. “While you enjoy your
vin
, perhaps you would like to partake in a starter salad. The mixed greens are especially crisp and tender tonight.”

Mic was watching through the kitchen door. He turned to the chef, giving him the thumbs up. The chef nodded and they both burst into grins.

Gastien continued through the meal, asking the correct questions without making a nuisance of himself. He was graceful and well balanced. He ended by suggesting desserts, using a dessert cart for visual effect.

Well done, thought Maurice. He understands that since the gratuity is already written on the check, it is in his best interest to get the bill up as high as possible. He also uses good descriptions. This boy is not uneducated. Maurice placed his napkin on the table.

“Gastien, please pull up a chair for a moment.” Gastien quickly did so. “You can relax. You are hired!” Maurice smiled.

“
Merci beaucoup, Monsieur
! Oh
, merci beaucoup
!” cried Gastien happily. “When can I start? Tomorrow?”

Maurice chuckled. “
Non
, not tomorrow. Today is Friday. I want you to work Tuesdays through Saturdays, preferably nights, which will give you the most money. You are quite good already and, as my wife appears to have noticed, quite pleasant to look at.” She blushed and smiled. Gastien beamed. “That is, unless you prefer days.”

“
Non
,
non
Monsieur
, I prefer nights. I am a painter. I would like the daylight for my painting, as long as I have a choice!”

“Good. You will start Tuesday. Please do come in tomorrow to get measured for your uniform. You are quite tall. We need to get you new uniforms. Also, I would like to see you eat here as often as possible, so that you are familiar with our dishes. Of course, that will be free. You can’t recommend things you have not eaten. Full time staff are allowed free food the days or evenings they work, plus free soup any other days they want it. Until you have tried every dish, though, don’t worry about just getting soup free. I want you knowledgeable. If there is something you do not like to eat, I will understand if you don’t order it.”

“I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity!” cried Gastien.

“You will thank me by becoming one of the two best night waiters I have on staff. Mic? Get out here!” Mic came out, blushing. He knew he had been caught listening at the kitchen door. “Get your ear off the door! I imagine that you want to go out with your friend to celebrate. You will both be working nights Tuesday through Saturdays. Don’t make me wish you weren’t!” he said sternly. Then he winked.

Gastien and Mic left to go party. They were young men. Nights were made for things other than sleeping! This one was made for celebrating with friends.

This started a period of about a year for Gastien that was good to him. He worked hard at the restaurant at nights, painted by day, partied, and had sex as often as he could. He soon became known as quite the hot lover and an even better painter. For Gastien painted every chance he could get during the day. He found places to paint during the colder month of March, and once April arrived, he was painting outside in parks.

Nath and he were frequent lovers when she was in town. They saw each other at least a couple times a month, sometimes much more. They went to dance halls and cabarets. Many times Gastien found someone other than Nath to leave with. Gastien assumed she did the same. Being free spirits, it never entered their minds to be jealous, at least not Gastien’s. When it bothered Nath, she simply forced herself to put it out of her mind.

Nathalie sometimes came in to
Le Procope
when Gastien worked. That is where she first saw his paintings. After Gastien began working there, he painted Maurice and his wife. It was such a beautiful likeness that Maurice put the painting up in a prime spot of the dining room. Right away, many customers wanted to know who the artist was. Soon Gastien had other paintings up in there as well, as did Mic. Nathalie was very impressed with Gastien’s artistic talent. He had greatness in him in the way that he made color come alive.

One night, he stopped over to Nath's, bringing two large paintings with him. Unwrapping them, she gasped. There she was in the boudoir, gaslights lit, standing seductively in her silken underwear. In the other, she was naked, slipping under the satin sheets of her bed. The paintings were breathtaking. The silk on her body, the satin sheets on the bed appeared so real, that it seemed that if one reached out they would actually feel the fabric. Nathalie herself appeared to be alive and breathing.

“Oh, Gastien! These are absolutely beautiful,” she whispered, with tears in her eyes.

He just smiled. “It is you who makes them beautiful.” She hung them both in her boudoir, where she could always see them. Nath considered both paintings prize possessions. She started telling people that mattered about his talent, raving about the way he could make paint sing. Many of those people came to the restaurant where Gastien worked. They started noticing his paintings even more.

Slowly, very slowly, people began asking him to paint them, or their wives and families, sometimes having him stay with them on his days off until finished. This was not very frequent yet, as hiring an artist was not something most people did. It took a lot of time for an artist to build his reputation. Still, his reputation was growing. The money was decent when he was hired, but it would never be enough for him to buy a studio. That frustrated him terribly.

Paris was the most expensive city in the world at that time. It was a hard fact that only the gentry could afford to own real estate. They made sure they kept it that way by gouging renters both for dwellings and for commercial space.

He wondered if he would ever truly be on his own as an artist, making a full time living with his painting. He wanted to paint in a new way. Portraits and still life were only meant to help him make money to be on his own. It seemed like it would be almost impossible to ever reach that stage, because of the extremely high prices for owning real estate. Even to own in Montmartre, he would need more than he would be able to put together for years.

Another thing was happening, almost as soon as Gastien started working at
Le Procope
. Women noticed him, flirted with him, and came back. He became very good at flirting back. These women were mostly the wives of the gentry or the upper bourgeois who came to dine. The women were very skilled at figuring out ways to be alone with Gastien for as little as an hour or for a full day. He obliged them whenever he desired to. To his delight, he found that he had no trouble worrying about where to find sex with clean women.

This was common practice in the nineteenth century for the gentry and bourgeois. Husbands were almost expected to have one or more mistresses. Although no one talked about wives indulging in lovers, the husbands generally did not ask, and if they suspected, simply looked the other way. Marriages were made for business and financial reasons, not for passion. Passion was found elsewhere. Men assumed wives did not enjoy sex. That was considered a fact. At any rate, as long as they were not questioned about their affairs, those husbands turned a blind eye to the dalliances of their mates. And their mates were clamoring for Gastien. He easily had as much sex as he desired, in fact he sometimes even turned sex down. He needed his painting time! He let nothing move painting to the back seat, not even sex. Well, at least most of the time.