All The Right People
Characters: Jeremy and Carmel Setting: Kitchen, just before dinner
Jeremy had tried to help Mazie, but she’d been unwieldy and then Autumn had stepped in and he let her take over from there. It was better than creating enemies and as always, Jeremy wasn’t exactly gunning to get involved.
There was one person he did want to meet, who he’d heard quite a bit about and wanted to be sure that he was on good terms with. Which meant right before dinner he was wandering into the kitchen looking for the woman who made their meals there, eyes open for Carmel.
Carmel was finishing the final touches on dinner. It was simple fare tonight, just fried chicken, green beans with a bit of garlic and sesame seeds, and oven baked fries, homemade not prepackaged. Most of the chicken was done and set on pans on papertowels, for now, to leech off a good amount of the grease though there wasn't much; Carmel was a fan of cooking healthy, at least as much as she could considering how many she was cooking for and the constraints of what she could get here, especially after the power going out the other day.
She stretched after bending down to the over, hands in the small of her back before she went back to setting things out in a way she thought would be easiest for everyone to come in and grab what they wanted to eat for the evening.
Jeremy watched her for a moment, smiling a little before taking off his suit jacket. "Anything I can do to help?" He asked, fedora pushed back still there.
Carmel looked up and smiled in welcome at the newcomer. "Oh hmm. I'm sure there's something you can help with," she said, for there was always something she seemed to leave to the last minute. She supposed it was that part of her was still waiting for her other chefs to come in and take up their positions. There were enough people here now that she really did miss them, as well as their company, at times. "I was wondering if I should add toast or garlic bread or some sort of bread component, but there's already starch in the potatoes. The condiments can also be gotten out, if you want to grab them."
"Anything you need I'm at your service." Jeremy set his jacket aside and worked on rolling up his sleeves. "Jeremy" he said once one sleeve was up. "And you must be Carmel. I've heard nothing but good things." He took a look at what she had. "Bread might be good for the few that wouldn't want the fries."
"It's nice to meet you, Jeremy. I am Carmel, yes," she said. She always enjoyed company while working, provided the people weren't out to make trouble. So far, she'd had no trouble in the kitchen while she was in there. She hoped that trend would continue. People from prison at least respected good food, and she was happy to provide it. "Then you can grab a loaf of that French looking bread there and slice it up if you want, as well, so we can doctor it up to go in the oven for a few minutes.
Jeremy nodded as instructed grabbing the loaf of bread and finding a cutting board and knife. As he cut into it the first time he had a flash of an old memory, bread-related as well, though that was being torn into. Devoured. The memory faded as quickly as it flashed, like the little match girl from the Christmas story.
"So far I've been enjoying the cooking. I wanted to be sure I met you and paid my compliments to the chef," he said over his shoulder.
Carmel smiled at him, glancing over to make sure it was going just fine. "Well, I'm glad you're enjoying it," she told him. "Is there anything you would like me to make some time? I'm always taking requests," she said. Adding variety was always good, and she didn't have her personal cookbooks with her any more.
"I'd have to think on that. For someone who is used to eating well I never complain about my food." Because Jeremy knew how valuable it was. "But if I come up with something I'll let you know."
"Well, no complaints is good, but sometimes constructive criticism helps," she replied easily. Even here, she wanted to improve if she could. Carmel was always looking to improve. "Please do. So, Jeremy, how long have you been here? I see so many faces these days, I don't even know anymore who has been here how long."
Jeremy looked over his shoulder at her as he finished up slicing the bread. "I will see of I can come up with any," he promised about the constructive criticism. "Couple if days. Still getting settled. I'm over in B block and I'm across I spend quite a bit of time over there."
"Ahhh so that's why I've not really seen you." Though she was sure she'd caught a glimpse. She'd seen almost everyone, at least from a distance, at least once. "I don't go to B block hardly at all, so I'm not surprised I haven't met you before."
“That would probably be part of it,” Jeremy agreed with a smile. “But I try hard not to miss your meals as I’m not much of a cook on my own.” He could manage but when he cooked for himself it was usually rather unimpressive beyond one or two dishes, designed to impress a lady. “It’s not bad over there. A little bizarre with the farm there and all, but not bad.”
"Yeah, I went over to see the farm a couple of times, but that was my main interest, I'll be honest." She wanted to see what kind of produce there was and what she might expect out of it, if it were well taken care of and things were in season. There was some variety, if not what her grandmother would have listed.
“Really? I have to admit, I’m not entirely sure I know the first thing about something like that beyond being able to identify it. Too much time spent in the city.” Jeremy’s smile was bright as he looked back, laying out the bread as instructed.
"It's not so much I know a lot, aside from what my grandmother knew, that I know the end product so I've made myself learn how to identify the fresh stuff and where it comes from. I grew up in the city too, though. New York," she said, taking out the butter and slipping it next to him. "Butter them, please, lightly, and we'll sprinkle garlic powder today. I had with real garlic a few days ago, I think."
“I grew up in New York as well,” Jeremy told her, smiling more before starting into her instructions. “It’s good that you learned something though. I imagine I’d be lost out there without a map and a guidebook.”
"Oh, really? Nice! A fellow New Yorker," she said, laying on the accent and then laughing, for it was there only really when she was excited, very distracted, or talking fast. "Eh, I bet you'd be fine. And you could always learn if you wanted. The library has an excellent selection."
Jeremy laughed lightly and nodded. “A fellow New Yorker.” His accent was lost a long time ago, dropping the sound of his heritage within the city on purpose. “I have checked out the library though I have to admit I’m more of a fiction than a non-fiction fan.”
"I usually am too, except for cookbooks and stuff of similar ilk," she said with a one-shouldered shrug. "But occasionally it's interesting. Just depends on what you look for and what interest you're pursuing."
“What’s your favorite book?” Jeremey asked, looking over at her with a smile, curious what it would be. It was a harmless enough question and it seemed interested in her which was always a good route to go down.
"Oh hmmm. I don't rightly know if I have a favorite. I do like to read, but I've not always had time for it," she said. "And having to choose, that's hard! What about you? Do you have a favorite?" she asked.
Jeremy found a cookie sheet to put the bread on, laying out the buttered pieces. “Dickens,” he said glancing back at her. “Almost everything by him or Fitzgerald. I’d say Oliver Twist and Gatsby.” It was a tiny bit of insight into him, but not quite everything.
"Ahh, the classics. I read them for school and not much else," she admitted. "Always did like Little Women and stuff like that though. I remember Oliver Twist though. Too many movie and play productions to not know that one."
“I suppose that makes me odd, liking them beyond school. Either that or I couldn’t quite get used to the lighter fiction. Seems too frivolous when I didn’t have tons of time for reading.” Jeremy smiled back at her, just a brief instant as he worked.
"Nah, to each their own. I've had friends who are into those. It just isn't always my cup of tea. I prefer not to have to wade through old language and phrasing, but then, I went to school in New York," she said dryly, rolling her eyes slightly. She could do it, and she had made good grades and was very smart, but she was so busy she prefered to unwind usually.
“I can see the need to relax. I guess it just stuck with me more than anything else.” Jeremy finished up what he was working on and turned to her, checking the oven.
She flashed him a grin and set down the garlic powder on the table next to him. "That happens. Everyone has preferences. Probably should have paid more attention to all the mystery novels, though, or read more of them," she joked obviously, going to fetch a couple of the condiments for the chicken and fries.
“You think that might have helped out?” he asked before putting the bread in the oven. “Knowing more about the system?” It hadn’t helped him. He knew quite a bit about the system, enough to cheat large parts of it and here he was.
"Hmm. I don't know. I mean, I could have been more circumspect, but I doubt it would have helped in the long run. Everyone knew I had it in for the guy, and I'd have been on the top of the list. But what it comes down to was I really didn't care at the time." She sort of did now, but she still didn't regret it.
“Do you think you would have done something differently?” he asked her looking back at her. “Maybe been more subtle?”
Carmel shrugged again, popping a green bean into her mouth to taste test it. "I might have been? But in the end, it comes down to I contemplated it and decided I didn't care if I got caught. I was going to have my revenge, and that was that." She mmmed and transferred her beans into a serving bowl. "What about you?" she asked curiously. "Do you mind if I ask what you did?"
“Not at all?” Jeremy asked, surprised by that, but his voice only held a little bit of curiosity. “Insurance fraud,” he answered for himself. “So yes, I would have done quite a few things differently. I made the mistake of trusting the wrong people.”
She paused and thought about it for a moment, tilting her head. "Maybe a smidge, but not really. I was so angry, so... everything. It left me with only the thought of what I wanted to do." If things hadn't been so premeditated, she might have gotten off on the passionate-moment defense. She wrinkled her nose slightly. "Yeah, trusting the wrong people will get you in trouble every time," she said somewhat sympathetically.
He looked back at her after setting the timer on the over, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest. “Not a healthy way to be though right? All that anger?” He had his own fair share directed at one person, but he tried not to dwell on it. Not until he could get out of here and do something about it.
"Not really. I do feel rather better now, though. Guy won't be doing anything like what he did to me to anyone else." And while she didn't precisely sleep better at night--loneliness and nightmares were taking their toll again--she did feel a little better. "I'm not angry anymore, not like I was.Took awhile to come to peace with most everything." And even more to accept she'll probably never have the husband and family she'd always hoped for.
“Did you find the peace through vengeance or something else?” Jeremy asked, curious how she did. It wasn’t often that those who got what they wanted in the way of retribution actually found solace.
"Well, I felt safer once I got my revenge," she mused aloud, leaning back against the counter. "I got peace through accepting I couldn't change what had happened, or regain everything I had lost. It's not easy, but most of the time I'm at least okay." Just sad a lot lately. Like losing Leandro after losing Dominic. She couldn't seem to get the knack of not being attached. She missed them both.
It made her both want to go find Wu, and made her worry that he might disappear, too.
Couldn’t regain what was lost. Those words rang more true than Jeremy would have liked, but he still nodded. He was going to get it back. He was determined to get it back. “I see that. At least you’ve found ‘okay’, or something close to it. Not many would. Not many do.”
She grabbed the tray he'd set out and exchanged the one with the oven-baked fries in there for the new one with the bread. They'd only take a few minutes, and the first bit of fries was done anyway. "I tried very hard to get where I am now," she admitted. "And I still have bad days, and bad moments. But I think that's what is expected."
“I think getting to just bad days and bad moments is an impressive feat. Most wouldn’t survive.” He didn’t know all of her story, though he could make assumptions based on what she had said, and he could tell what was important to her. Which meant that was what he was focusing on.
"I like to hope everyone can learn to survive, though I knew a few people who never were right again." She could at least be with someone--she'd proved that enough times with Franklin. She just had her moments, that was all. And her lonely, depressed times, like lately. She'd get over those, too. She just needed to stop getting so attached.
Jeremy considered her, nodding slightly. “Some do learn,” he agreed. “In any situation. I’ve seen it go both ways.” Though if she thought about it, she might not know how or why he’d know that. He certainly didn’t look the part.
Carmel shot him a curious glance, wondering where he'd seen it at. Not that she'd elaborated, but in all the work she'd done even before her rape, there were significantly fewer men who helped survivors than women. Of course, he could be thinking something else completely, but most counseling for different traumas still seemed largely female to her most of the time. "Done volunteer work?" she asked curiously.
“Hardly,” Jeremy said shaking his head. “More...there are problems in all walks of life. You see more of it when you get into the middle of it.” There were a lot of dark secrets under the smiles and pretty dresses of the rich.
"That is very true. Very, very true," she said, voice softening faintly. She'd grown up in a poor neighborhood, her father pressed to make enough to raise his family, especially since her mother could never keep ahold of a dollar, or so it seemed. And then she'd worked for the rich, one of whom had ruined her life and used his money and power to get away with it. "It happens everywhere, unfortunately."
“That it does,” Jeremy said. “So I’ve seen it. Here and there. Watched some crumble under their secrets and their pasts and others thrive.” He liked the think he fell into the latter category.
"You've been around a great variety of people, I take it," she said, tone inquiring but not prying. Of course, with his type of crime, he had to be a people person, she thought.
“Variety within certain limits,” Jeremy agreed with a nod. “Still in the same class, but all ends of it. It happens when you work with them.”
"Certain limits?" she asked, going to fill up her glass with more water. It was almost warm in here, after cooking for quite awhile. "You worked insurance with them, then?"
“I worked within a certain paygrade,” he admitted. “Not quite. More a spending consultant. My last clients were a dot com company that wanted to move up from being a bunch of college kids to the nuevo riche and I consulted on how they do that, make their company fit in at that level. I also managed the insurance on their assets.”
She nodded slightly as she listened. Made sense, she supposed. "I started my catering company out small, and we expanded several times until I was getting high-pay, large events," she told him. "In some ways, it was my undoing, but I really loved working them,and I was so proud when my business started doing so well."
“Really? I wonder if you catered anything I was at,” Jeremy pondered. That was definitely possible considering most of his life was spent being social. “Your undoing? How so?”
"There is a high likelihood," she said. "My company was Angelic Hosting. For my last name, DiAngelo," she explained, though the play on words had been too much for her to refuse in the end. She missed it dreadfully, though she knew her partner had managed to keep it afloat during her trial and after her conviction. She just... missed it, was all. She shrugged. "It was after the party, during clean up, that mister rich boy got me. And then his money got him out of it. That's the only reason I ended up doing what I did, and going to prison," she said.
“I like that,” Jeremy said with a grin. “And it sounds familiar.” He listed to her story, face one of utter understanding. He hated people like that, always had. “I wouldn’t call your business your undoing, even if it’s the reason you were there. I wouldn’t do that.”
"No, the real reason was one little snot's wanting something he wasn't supposed to have and taking it anyway. Selfishness, that's all," she said, sighing and reaching up to push back a stray curl that had escaped.
He watched her hand closely, eyes always on her, but in an appreciative way. “That would be it. But it was no fault of your own.”
She thought he was a nice enough fellow, so far, but fraud often involved charisma, and she was somewhat wary of being taken in. Not that she needed to start caring for more people, though it was her nature and she knew she wouldn't be able to help herself given enough time around people. "No, it wasn't, really." One of the first things a victim had to learn. "So, where were you incarcerated before you came here, if you don't mind my asking?" she asked.
He let her change the subject. “Federal prison outside of the city. Club Fed I believe they call it. Not quite prison, but uncomfortable enough to be prison.” And he’d felt trapped the entire time, same like he felt here. “You?”
"Hmm, not too shabby, sounds like. Better than many of the others," she said, having thought she'd heard of it before. "I was at Albion Women's Correctional. It wasn't the worst, but it was far from the best." There were less options, she thought, as a woman, as with practically everything else. Fewer women's prisons. "Food was miserable all the way around, thus my kitchen rampage thus far."
“I wouldn’t be here if it had been somewhere else. I’m not ashamed to admit that.” He smiled a little nodded. “We’re lucky for the kitchen rampage. I knew that was why I had to meet you, for all of this.” He waved around them. “You’re the person to know in here I think.”
Her smile was modest but pleased. She liked compliments as much as the next girl, she had simply been taught to try not to let them go to her head. "Well, it's better than prison food, I know that, and if people like it and thus like me, well, I won't protest in this kind of situation, though the food and the comfort is the first thing on my mind." But she'd learned the hard way that survival had to factor into her thoughts as well. One didn't spend time in prison without learning that.
“It’s not just better than prison food. It’s better than most food. You have a talent. Both for the food and the comfort.” Jeremy smiled at her brightly and touched her arm, a gentle reassuring squeeze. “I think we’re lucky you were looking out for us.”
She smiled at him with warmth and gratitude. "Well, thank you, Jeremy," she told him genuinely. "I'm glad to be doing some looking after again after so long. Even if some people don't get to stay very long." She sighed, picking up a fry to nibble, more for comfort than anything else.
“Don’t stay very long? Am I missing something?” Jeremy asked her, head tilting slightly as he watched her. There was a sign of curiosity on his features.
"Well, Dominic was here with the first ones of us too, and he was tazed and taken away several days ago. And apparently my friend Leandro is also gone now. So sometimes, people get transferred or taken away quite suddenly. It's rather disconcerting," she admitted.
“I didn’t know Dominic,” Jeremy said. “Nor Leandro, though I can imagine losing friends is hard. Especially since it’s easy to assume most of us haven’t had many in a while.” He was imagining as he wasn’t one for true personal connections, but that didn’t show in his words. Though she did raise curiosity in him. He hadn’t heard from Kasper in a few days and it might be worth checking in on her. “Do you think there’s a reason?”
Her smile this time was somewhat strained and sad. "Yeah. I finally got a cellmate that I was closer than normal with, and I get taken here. Then I lose the first couple people I really made friends with. Can't say I'm pleased." It made her want to hold on harder to what she had. Especially Wu, not that she'd admit it right away. Part of her desperately wanted to get to know him better. To nurse that connection she felt with him. "I don't know. Some people think they, or at least Dom, did something wrong, but I really don't believe it at all."
Jeremy’s nod was sympathetic, understanding. People got attached to others all the time. That was completely normal. He knew it, he just didn’t subscribe to it really. “You don’t? Why not?” he asked about Dominic.
Carmel gestured with her hands, trying to find the words. "Dom just... He wasn't going to cause trouble unless Meg was messed with. He didn't want trouble, he wanted to prevent it."
“Then maybe Meg was messed with,” he suggested. It seemed like the logical conclusion if Dominic wasn’t out to cause trouble, then that left only one option.
"I don't think so, at least at the time. And I mean, if she had? He would have messed someone over bad enough for it to be noticed. So I just don't know," she said, sighing as she leaned against the counter again.
“Not if they made a preemptive move,” Jeremy said. He didn’t have a fucking clue, but he’d baited more than one hot head and the only way to stop them was usually to eliminate the problem before it started.
"Maybe?" She said a little dubiously. "I mean, in this place anything is possible. But it still wasn't very nice, and I trusted Dom to have my back so far as I trusted anyone in here."
“So who has your back now?” Jeremy asked, one eyebrow raised. He was curious what her answer would be.
"Wu," she said staunchly without having to even think about it. And of everyone in here, he was probably the best to have it. Not that that was why. She really liked the man. And that he made her stomach flutter and her thoughts wander sometimes, well, that was only her business. And maybe his, at some point.
“Really?” Jeremy asked, leaning against the counter. “Interesting choice.” More than interesting. He had to wonder how she’d gotten there, but he didn’t want to push it.
She supposed it was interesting. But then, she had liked Wu from the start, before she had known much of anything about him. "I suppose so. But I like him." More than she should, perhaps, but she didn't really care. He also wasn't the only one she could claim, or so she hoped. "How about you? Anyone got your back?" She turned the question on him.
“That’s what matters in here I suppose then,” Jeremy agreed with a nod, seeming to approve of her choice. All it really did was make him curious, but he could work with that later. “I’m not sure yet. There’s a few that seem interested, but I don’t know how they’d fare to being tested.”
"So long as no one has done something to hurt someone in here, I've got most people's backs," she said. And she would, provided she believed them. She was a supportive person like that. Some she might have more than others, but it would all depend on the situation. She had always wanted to help people.
“Good to know,” Jeremy said with a nod and an appreciative smile. “Definitely good to have the cook having my back if I need it.” And he meant it. He was here for a reason. She was in charge of their food and as a result a good person to know.
Those who control food control much, she had learned through the years. And food made the best bribes even as it fulfilled something in her to feed others. "Just say the word," she half-joked. At least he hadn't seen her knife work yet.
That made him chuckle, nodding again. “Of course.” He patted her shoulder again then looked around. “I think we’re close to done? I can help you get this into the cafeteria so starving masses can eat?” His smile was there, bright as ever, every bit of wattage just for Carmel.
"Sounds good to me," she said, returning his smile in good humor. Another pair of hands always made things move along nicely, especially when carrying things. She picked up one tray, balanced it, and grabbed another and gestured to the other two with her chin for him. "To the cafeteria!" she declared, and off they went.