The Pearl Diver Read Online Free PDF

drop-cloth-covered furniture intermingling with ladders, huge boxes of electrical fixtures, and other things I couldn’t identify. Half a dozen men were at work in the room, hammering and drilling.
    “The walls will be sea grass on the top half, and plum below the chair rail,” Marshall shouted over the din. “Would that work with Meiji?”
    “Perfectly. What will the floor be?”
    “Underneath the tarps, we have old Georgia pine. We’re going to sand it and stain it the color of teak.” He pulled back the plastic covering a rosewood chair, straight backed, with a cushion covered in a cinnabar-and-gold patterned fabric.
    “That looks like an old obi,” I said.
    “Yeah, but it’s synthetic. Totally stain resistant, which is what we need. Which reminds me of something else. Jiro’s fixated on this idea of redwood, but I’m not sure wood is durable enough for restaurant service. What’s your take?”
    I liked Jiro and his dream of the lacquered redwood bento boxes, but I knew how much effort it took to preserve the glossy finish on my own real lacquered possessions. After being used for food, lacquered wood had to be gently washed and dried. Its finish showed smeary fingerprints, too.
    “I think we could compromise and still have beauty and durability,” I said. “ Bento boxes exist that are made of such high-quality plastic that they look and feel just like lacquered wood. I’ll order some samples from Japan so you can decide—”
    “I’ve already decided. That’s just what I want. But don’t tell Jiro it’s plastic, okay? It’ll be just between us.”
    I was about to tell him that it would be impossible to fool a Japanese person about such a thing when a young woman with a tawny complexion and a mop of springy, blond curls interrupted us. “Marshall, one of the cooks is already here, the guy from Nora’s—”
    “Excellent.” Marshall winked at me. “If I can steal this guy, I know I’ll be in good hands.”
    “But I thought Jiro would cook the food here.” I was confused.
    “He will be executive chef. The interviews going on are for line chefs who’ll work under him. And who knows, from the line a star may be born—the guy who’ll lead my next restaurant. Andrea will show you the existing interior-design elements, the paint chips, that kind of thing—”
    “What do you mean? I’m supposed to be checking in the cooks for interviews, and getting all those returns done on the light fixtures!” Andrea narrowed her almond-shaped eyes.
    “First you’ll show Rei around.” Marshall’s voice was firm. “She’s going to be taking over the interior-design stuff, which will make your life easier.”
    “Oh?” Andrea looked at me doubtfully.
    “I could come back another day if it’s better.” I was thinking to myself that a Japanese employee would never have spoken to a boss like that. Even Marshall seemed disturbed because his voice rose and he waved his hand to include the whole room of workers.
    “Come on, we’ve got to move! Thirty-five days from now, our doors will open. Andrea, it’ll take you five minutes to show Rei around. After that, you can go on with your regular schedule. Rei, I’ll need the proposal from you by tomorrow morning—it doesn’t have to be final, but tell me what you think I need to buy and approximately how much it’ll cost.”
    And with that, he disappeared through the swinging doors to the kitchen, presumably to interview the cook from Nora’s.
    “It’s a good thing he pays people as much as he does, because he’d be impossible otherwise,” Andrea muttered.
    “I’m sorry to be making more work for you,” I said. It was inmy interest to get along with her, but I doubted it could happen. She was one of the gorgeous but mean girls who seemed to work exclusively in places like restaurants, fashion houses, and television stations. Andrea had slanting, catlike eyes, high cheekbones, and lips so full they must have endured a few collagen injections.