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was called ‘invernengo’—winter cheese—because the flavor is so distinct.” He looked genuinely happy, as if he had met a kindred spirit, and I thought how hard it must be to care so much and have a clueless clientele. “Now I want to take you into the back kitchen and introduce you to my wife, Rosalie. She’ll show you how we make the mozzarella.”
    I wasn’t about to pass that up. But I glanced at my watch again, thinking that even Jake wasn’t going to appreciate how fully I had seized this opportunity. “I might need a marketable skill. If they fire me”—I was only half joking—“will you give me a job?”
    “They’re not going to fire you.” He picked up an apron. “But if they do, there’s a place for you at Fontanari’s.”
    But the mention of the magazine seemed to jog his memory. He looked up at the clock. “It’s after three! You’d better get the Parmigiano to Thursday right away. I hope she’s not too upset.” He handed me a package. “If you have any trouble, tell Jake to call me. But I meant what I said: You can always have a job here.” He gave me a shrewd look. “I know it’s not your first choice, but it could be worse. We pay a lot better than the slave wages they hand out over at Pickwick Publications. You wouldn’t have to stay all night either. And you’d learn a lot.”
    “Thanks.”
    Sal put his hand on my arm. “Got any friends in New York?”
    “I just got here.”
    “If you find that you’re lonely on the weekend, we can always use an extra pair of hands. I like you, kid. Don’t be a stranger.”
    THURSDAY IS A SMALL WOMAN , and every review mentions she has eyes like pansies and enormous charm. But she was scowling when I got back to The Pig. “I was hoping to use this today.” She held out herhand. “I should have sent a messenger. I expect Maggie was hoping the same.” She shook her head. “Wasn’t this your first day on the job?”
    “Yeah,” I said. “I guess I blew it.”
    She gave me an enigmatic look and went back to stirring her pot.
    The cab I’d managed to hail crept through traffic, and I sat there wondering if I still had a job at
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Probably not. Working at Fontanari’s wouldn’t be so bad. I could always temp. Maybe I could even try to freelance. It had been worth it; I wouldn’t trade this day away for anything.
    On the other hand, I’d just blown the best job in New York. I was a total idiot.
    I reached the Timbers Mansion in a schizophrenic state and went racing up the stairs. I barreled into the kitchen with such force that the door almost sent Maggie, who was standing behind it, reeling into a counter. Surrounded by a semicircle of cooks, she rubbed her arm and peered accusingly at me. I handed her the anchovies and turned to go.
    “Wait!” Maggie’s voice was imperious. She had set the jar on the counter and stood staring at her watch. “Congratulations. You’ve clocked the slowest time in
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history.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “In the eight years we’ve been sending people off to take the Sal Test, no one’s ever stayed away this long.”
    “The Sal Test?” There was a beat as all the cooks looked at me expectantly. “What are you talking about?” My eyes moved from one face to another, trying to understand what was going on. When I finally got it, a wave of laughter swept through me, mingled with relief, indignation, and disbelief.
    “Are you telling me you
planned
that?” I said when I was finally able to speak. “Thursday was in on it? Benny? Kim? They
all
were?”
    Maggie nodded. “A waste of everybody’s time, if you ask me,” she said sourly. “But Jake doesn’t want to be surrounded by what he calls ‘corporate widgets.’ He appreciates ‘curiosity.’ ” She even used air quotes.
    I laughed again. Sal had been telling the truth. Something occurred to me. “Does anyone ever manage to escape?”
    “Most do.” Her voice implied that if I had any sense, I’d have been among