[center This was his exact element. High energy social functions whilst being surrounded by throngs of people going here, there, and everywhere? Charlemagne didn’t mind it at all. It was like a type of controlled chaos. He knew what his job was and was focused solely on the delivery of excellent, quality services since it was what he was contracted to do. And honestly, the Frenchman was excited! The man was always happy to be able to share his culinary creations with as many people as possible. This experience also included expertly paired wine choices and various other spirits to ensure maximum satisfaction of even the pickiest of palates. Charlemagne was no fool and refused to accept anything less than his high standards when it came to working in the kitchen.]
[center Having had successful kitchens back in France, Charlie had felt quite ambitious and networked with contacts to scout out new potential opportunities, one of which was in the United States! The possibilities were endless in Charlemagne’s mind as he worked tirelessly to expand his Michelin star culinary business to new reach and blow past new horizons. While it wasn’t hard to get clients to book with him, thanks to his experience, it was quite a pain to find just the right location for not only a new kitchen but also a wine cellar! In the end, though, he ended up choosing to spend the extra money and have a carefully climate-controlled cellar be next door to his restaurant. Some clients only wanted to shop for wine and didn’t want to sit down for a whole meal. Charlemagne respected that and was thankful to be able to provide what his clientele wanted in a most refined setting.]
[center But tonight was certainly busy, Charlie running the kitchen at an upscale banquet-type soiree. Orders were coming in, going out. Food was being prepped, cooked, and plated at their various stations. The waiters and waitresses came and went as necessary. It felt like a billion things were going on at once, and it probably seemed like a complete clusterfuck from the outside, but Charlemagne did not mess around in the kitchen. He ran a tight ship, no exceptions. And the contract he was working under for the evening was a highly demanding one. A lot of attendees with high-brow palates were present and Charlie was [i not] about to let anything go out of his kitchen messy, raw, or overcooked. Everything had to be at 115% in quality; the ingredients, kitchen and wait staff, the final dishes. Everything.]
[center Soon, the actual dinner courses were beginning to be served to the soiree attendees. During times like this, Charlie liked to spend time hand-delivering plates himself to, again, ensure perfection in the overall meal. In the past, people seemed to appreciate the fact that the chef in charge of the whole affair had thought to be personable in that way and Charlemagne was more than happy to oblige as much as time would allow him to.]
[center Strategically tables were being served and Charlie allowed time for the people to enjoy the meal in its courses before he swung back around to check up on how everything was going and to rectify and issues that may have popped up. But thankfully nothing was too bad so far, to the man’s relief. A majority of the faces that Charlemagne did see were new to him, which was fine. Happily fed people just meant more connections and business for him. But on one of his several trips back to the kitchen one of the members of the waitstaff mentioned to him that a man was sitting in a nearby den with only a light plate of hors d’oeuvres for food. Charlie honestly just shook his head at this. [#900 [i ‘That simply will not do will it?’]] he thought before arranging a fresh plate to give the unserved man.]
[center Poised as he could be, he wove between the tables and people to reach the den area. It wasn’t entirely secluded, but a hell of a lot calmer than the dining area of the hall. [#900 “Pardon me, sir. I do apologize for the tardiness of your meal. Here I have crab stuffed mushrooms for you to start with as well as a salade méchouia.”] Charlemagne stated, presenting said dishes for the other man’s inspection. He then went ahead and pulled up a nearby side table, holding the tray in his other hand. [#900 “Is there anything else I can get for you? Perhaps a new drink to accompany the start of your dinner?”] he inquired as he swiftly, but gently, set up the table for the man’s convenience. [#900 “A lot of individuals are enjoying the crab stuffed mushrooms with a chilled glass of rosé if that is of your interests.”] Charlie added as he carefully observed the man. Good god almighty, was he practically a giant, but Charlemagne was a professional, thus he waited for input to assess what to do next…]
[center This wasn't his typical scene, truthfully. He would have much rather spend his time back at his own estate, organising recipes for the fete he would soon be throwing. However, here was was, at a small gathering for one of the wealthy noblemen in town. He had been invited first and foremost because of his status, but it was certainly interesting to learn that his company was also enjoyed. Especially for a man of so little words.
He walked the parlor, nodding politely to well-dressed ladies and gentleman of varying origin, making his way through suit-clad bodies and laughter to fetch himself something to much on. There was a lovely selection of cheeses, caviar, crackers that varied in seasoning and texture, and plenty to drink. Almost [i too much] to drink.
His eyes combed the selection of wines, scotches, bourbons... What would be most appeasing?
Contemplating carefully on his choice, he opted for a sweet red wine, pouring himself a glass that he then carefully swirled to get a better idea of what he was working with.
It scented very nicely. He had to wonder if the flavour would disappoint or not. Lifting it to his lips, he sipped, collecting a plate of cheeses and such as his palate adjusted. It was well-balanced, flavourful, full-bodied but not too heavy. The sweetness also wasn't overpowering, which he greatly appreciated.
Jeoffroi settled into one of the armchairs in the nearby den and gazed out into the night, content to be out of the immediate way of all the clamour and hubbub. To listen to music from here and enjoy his plate until dinner was to be served was preferable.
He must've truck them all a shadow - black on black, tall and looming, ever the grounded presence. He sat now with one leg crossed casually over the other, moonlight catching the polished leather of his shoe.
He intimidated them, and the brunet was well aware of it, but he they respected and valued him enough that he was always invited. He'd yet to run into a soul who openly disrespected or disliked him. Which wasn't to say it didn't' exist, but he had yet to encounter it.
For all his reserved ways and dry humour, he had to wonder if that was why they enjoyed his company. He didn't feel the need to fill silence in order to have a good time the way some did. Too insistent, too insecure, too needy.
Sipping at his wine, he regarded the dancing in the next room. Perhaps later, when he'd fully settled in. For now, he was content with his wine.]