Read Online Getting Rich (A Chef Landry Mystery) by Monique Domovitch - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Monique Domovitch
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we call the police and report her?”
“I thought about it, but what are they going to do? Take a statement and then forget about it.”
“You’re probably right.” She shrugged and made a big show of looking at her watch yet again, this time her eyebrows giving an exaggerated jump. “Uh-oh,” she said. I’d seen that fake surprised look before. And sure enough, a fake apology followed. “I hate to do this to you, sweetie. I know how busy you are, but I really have to run. You can cope without me for one evening, can’t you?”
“Not so fast.” I planted my hands on my hips. “Where do you think you’re going? Your night off isn’t until Thursday. Besides, you already took the whole day off yesterday.”
She planted her hands on her hips, in a mocking imitation of me. “Tell you what— you can take two nights off next week. How’s that?”
I groaned. “It’s not a question of keeping count. It’s just that we’re busier than we’ve ever been. We need all hands on deck. You have a date, don’t you? A date with Steven?”
She shook her head. “No, with Judy.”
“Have you told him about her yet?”
“No,” she answered abruptly.
I wrinkled my forehead. “Is everything all right between you and Steven?”
She flipped back a lock of blond hair and smiled. “All right? I’ll say. That man has one thing on his mind. Sex! He wants it when he wakes up. He wants it in the middle of the day. He wants it before bedtime and even in the middle of the night.”
By now, the guys were frozen on the spot, no doubt waiting for more juicy details.
Jennifer walked by with a pot of something that smelled delicious. She winked. “All I can say is I hope his right hand is getting a really good workout.”
This time Toni hooted. “That’s a good one.”
I stifled a laugh. Toni had just met her match. I threw Jennifer a grin. She did likewise.
Without another word, Toni slipped into her coat, grabbed her bag and waltzed out. “See you tomorrow.”
I stared at the door. “Well how do you like that?”
Charles joined me. “Off to play with her sister again, is she? It’s like she’s trying to catch up with the childhood they didn’t have.”
“I think you hit the nail on the head,” I said, and then brought the subject back to the here and now. “So what did we decide would be the special tonight?”
“Eggplant Parmesan—remember? I just perfected a two-hundred-and-fifty-calorie version that tastes divine.”
“Oh, right.” We’d gradually added a number of wonderful low-cal dishes to our repertoire until we now had a different dinner special for every night of the week. We often tested our new recipes on our lunch crowd, moving them onto our dinner menu when they rated high with everyone. “Sounds yummy—is everything ready to go in the oven?”
“Not even close. Lunch was so crazy busy we didn’t have a minute to start.”
“Well then,” I said, grabbing my chef’s jacket. “Let’s get this show on the road, people.”
In the walk-in refrigerator I found a large cardboard box full of eggplants and preselected cheeses. And for the next hour, everybody sliced, diced, chopped and grated until we had a dozen large casserole dishes ready to pop into the oven. By the time the first batch was ready, and dinner customers were walking in, I kept expecting the crazy woman of the night before to come storming in.
Hopefully Charles had been right—nothing to worry about. But for some reason, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that we hadn’t heard the last from her.
i call it rabbit food
It was ten forty-five and the kitchen was clean, dishes were washed and stacked neatly on the stainless steel shelves. The floor was swept and the counters sterilized. With nothing left to clean, we waited patiently for our last customers—who were taking their own sweet time—to leave.
Jake nudged the kitchen door open a crack and sneaked a peek. “They haven’t even picked up the bill
“I thought about it, but what are they going to do? Take a statement and then forget about it.”
“You’re probably right.” She shrugged and made a big show of looking at her watch yet again, this time her eyebrows giving an exaggerated jump. “Uh-oh,” she said. I’d seen that fake surprised look before. And sure enough, a fake apology followed. “I hate to do this to you, sweetie. I know how busy you are, but I really have to run. You can cope without me for one evening, can’t you?”
“Not so fast.” I planted my hands on my hips. “Where do you think you’re going? Your night off isn’t until Thursday. Besides, you already took the whole day off yesterday.”
She planted her hands on her hips, in a mocking imitation of me. “Tell you what— you can take two nights off next week. How’s that?”
I groaned. “It’s not a question of keeping count. It’s just that we’re busier than we’ve ever been. We need all hands on deck. You have a date, don’t you? A date with Steven?”
She shook her head. “No, with Judy.”
“Have you told him about her yet?”
“No,” she answered abruptly.
I wrinkled my forehead. “Is everything all right between you and Steven?”
She flipped back a lock of blond hair and smiled. “All right? I’ll say. That man has one thing on his mind. Sex! He wants it when he wakes up. He wants it in the middle of the day. He wants it before bedtime and even in the middle of the night.”
By now, the guys were frozen on the spot, no doubt waiting for more juicy details.
Jennifer walked by with a pot of something that smelled delicious. She winked. “All I can say is I hope his right hand is getting a really good workout.”
This time Toni hooted. “That’s a good one.”
I stifled a laugh. Toni had just met her match. I threw Jennifer a grin. She did likewise.
Without another word, Toni slipped into her coat, grabbed her bag and waltzed out. “See you tomorrow.”
I stared at the door. “Well how do you like that?”
Charles joined me. “Off to play with her sister again, is she? It’s like she’s trying to catch up with the childhood they didn’t have.”
“I think you hit the nail on the head,” I said, and then brought the subject back to the here and now. “So what did we decide would be the special tonight?”
“Eggplant Parmesan—remember? I just perfected a two-hundred-and-fifty-calorie version that tastes divine.”
“Oh, right.” We’d gradually added a number of wonderful low-cal dishes to our repertoire until we now had a different dinner special for every night of the week. We often tested our new recipes on our lunch crowd, moving them onto our dinner menu when they rated high with everyone. “Sounds yummy—is everything ready to go in the oven?”
“Not even close. Lunch was so crazy busy we didn’t have a minute to start.”
“Well then,” I said, grabbing my chef’s jacket. “Let’s get this show on the road, people.”
In the walk-in refrigerator I found a large cardboard box full of eggplants and preselected cheeses. And for the next hour, everybody sliced, diced, chopped and grated until we had a dozen large casserole dishes ready to pop into the oven. By the time the first batch was ready, and dinner customers were walking in, I kept expecting the crazy woman of the night before to come storming in.
Hopefully Charles had been right—nothing to worry about. But for some reason, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that we hadn’t heard the last from her.
i call it rabbit food
It was ten forty-five and the kitchen was clean, dishes were washed and stacked neatly on the stainless steel shelves. The floor was swept and the counters sterilized. With nothing left to clean, we waited patiently for our last customers—who were taking their own sweet time—to leave.
Jake nudged the kitchen door open a crack and sneaked a peek. “They haven’t even picked up the bill
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