Chapter 8
[WiseWave620: You should have seen it!! Angel and Bulldog had a lightsaber duel in the Hollywood Studio parking lot!]
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“T ally, I’m worried about you.”
“Join the club,” Tally murmured under her breath. Because she was worried about herself too. Was she actually searching for her mystery man? He’d disappeared that morning after Gordon Tremont had visited her at her restaurant. He’d been gone all through the lunch shift. Now it was the lull before dinner and Tally still couldn’t sense him.
What if she’d been wrong? What if he’d gone with Gordon Tremont because he worked for the man? She was able to sense a lot about a person, but if Gordon Tremont made a silent signal to her mystery man, she would not be able to sense that.
Simone’s voice carried over the phone on Tally’s workstation. She was prepping her sauces for the dinner menu and had her phone on speaker. Her executive chef had the day off, meaning Tally was working with her sous chef today. He was on his hour break before the dinner rush. Since she didn’t have a saucier and Tally wanted to ensure all her signature sauces were made her way, she was always on sauce duty this time of day. Her pastry chef wasn’t due in for another hour or so. One of her prep cooks was only working the lunch shift and had already gone home. The other was pulling a double and was on break.
They were used to Tally working while on speaker phone, though. Sometimes they even sent messages for her when she was in too much of a rush to go through the voice commands necessary to answer or it was too noisy for her phone to pick up specifics.
All of her chefs and cooks were amazing people. She’d handpicked them because they were willing to work under a blind chef. Her front staff was where she struggled. Servers came and went far too easily. Some were only hired on during their college semester while others were summer workers. Then there were the local servers who wanted a high paying job and mega tips for no work or effort on their part.
Her dining manager, Gretchen, was currently on maternity leave. Chelsea, her hostess, was trying to pick up the slack, but she didn’t have Gretchen’s spine of steel and caved far too easily at times.
This was the downfall of owning her own restaurant. There were days when Tally felt like she was wearing far too many hats to have actually accomplished anything.
Louder, Tally answered, “I’m just busy, Si. I’m fine.”
“Don’t lie to me, Tally. I absolutely hate it when you do. I know you think you have to be this independent person who never asks for help, but everyone needs help. Vision or no vision. Please talk to me, Mark, anybody . You have been off this week, ever since we were at your apartment with the police.”
Tally let out a long sigh. Guilt settled low in her stomach, making her regret the caprese and Green Goddess sandwich she’d hastily eaten after the lunch rush. Unable to stop working, Tally started talking while still prepping. Her sauces for this evening were already simmering. She was making the sauces for tomorrow that would be transferred to the fridge overnight.
“The man that was in my apartment last week. I know you think I imagined him?—”
“No, I don’t?—”
“Simone,” Tally said in a warning tone. “You believed me out of loyalty to me as my friend. You don’t actually believe there was a man inside my apartment.” Simone’s silence was confirmation enough. “I am not going to argue or discuss that night. Here’s the thing, though: I’ve sensed him since. He’s always around, here at work, following me to the store, in my apartment… He’s never far.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Are you saying this man is stalking you ?”
Tally hesitated. “Do you remember how I told you that you can never ask me about my dad and what he does for a living?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“That rule still applies, but I think the man works for my dad. I think my dad sent him down here as, like, a bodyguard.”
Simone paused and Tally kept working. “Okay, I have so many questions. I don’t even know where to start. You’re telling me that your dad does something that would require you to have a bodyguard but can’t tell me those specifics. Fine. But why would he just show up in your apartment? That makes no sense. The way you described him, he’s there but you’re not communicating with him. That sounds like a stalker, Tal, not a bodyguard.”
“It’s hard to explain. It’s more of a gut feeling than anything. He’s never spoken to me and I agree that there’s definitely a stalker-vibe, but he’s… I don’t think he’s a threat.”
Not to me , Tally added silently. She did not mention the ‘danger-vibe’ she got from him too.
“Have you asked your dad?”
“I talked to him this morning,” Tally said evasively.
“And he confirmed that the man works for him?”
Tally hesitated. “There’s something going on with my dad, something that involves his work. He didn’t come out and say anything specific, and I couldn’t tell you even if he did, but it was more like what he didn’t say in the conversation. He’s worried about something.”
“Does he do this sort of thing a lot? Send you bodyguards that invade your privacy? I don’t like that this man has been in your apartment, Tally.”
“Sending me bodyguards is not new. I grew up with them, but I haven’t had one in years.”
“Tally, I don’t think you’re thinking straight. You’re saying that you think this man was sent by your father, but don’t have confirmation. This man has been inside your apartment. Why haven’t you called the police again?”
Tally snorted. “Like it would do any good. You’ve been inside my apartment when he’s there, Si, and you still said you couldn’t see anyone else in the room.”
“Wait, when we were there last week, he was inside your apartment? That’s why you asked us if we saw anything out of place?”
Tally made a face. “You guys didn’t believe me before. I thought if I came out and asked if you saw him then he’d vanish again. I was trying to be evasive so he didn’t know what I was doing.”
“Tally, are you listening to yourself? You sound insane! I’m calling Mark. Maybe he can talk some sense into you because clearly I can’t?—”
“No!” Tally shouted without meaning to. “I mean, please don’t. We’re not… Mark and I aren’t…” She fought the urge to rub her forehead because she had to keep her hands sanitary. “I don’t want Mark to know about any of this.”
“Tally, I am telling you this because I love you. I am really concerned for you. You have a stalker but somehow you’ve deluded yourself into thinking he’s a bodyguard?—”
“He’s not a stalker,” Tally defended.
“Have you spoken to him? Has he said why he’s following you around?”
“No, he’s never spoken to me.”
“Then how do you know why he’s there or what he wants?”
Tally hesitated. How did she explain about the fight with Gordon Tremont’s thugs? Simone would never believe that she fended off two street thugs because she didn’t know about Tally’s fighting skills. Shit, she really was a terrible person. Always keeping secrets from the woman who was supposed to be her best friend.
“It’s hard to explain, Si. You just need to trust me. It’s frustrating as hell that he hasn’t said anything, but I know he’s there and yet no one else seems to know he’s there. I felt like I was going insane for days, like I had an imaginary friend, but I swear, he’s real. I just… I don’t know how to explain it. The more he’s around, the more I feel like he’s here to protect me, not to harm me.”
“But you thought he was there to harm you and yet you didn’t call me or Tom?”
How did she explain that they weren’t the protection they thought they were? Fuck, why had she even told Simone anything about her mystery man? All it was doing was adding to her headaches for the day.
And where was he anyway? Had he gone with Gordon Tremont? The very thought left a sour taste in her mouth.
The entry door to the kitchen slammed open. Tally’s grip on her knife tightened as she clicked her tongue in the direction of the door.
“Chef, I swear, I will walk out tonight if I don’t have Station Three. Chelsea insists on putting me in Station Two and I refuse to work that section.”
Tally put down her knife—mainly so she didn’t throw it at the jackass—and let out a long sigh. She really missed Gretchen and wondered how much of a bonus the woman would require to cut her maternity leave short. Tally would even pay for a nanny if it got the woman here faster.
“First of all, Noah, don’t you ever come slamming into my kitchen like that again. If you need to talk to me, you walk in here and ask if I have a moment to speak with you. We have a lot of dangerous equipment back here. Do you honestly think startling us is a good idea?”
“Yeah, whatever, sorry. I just need you to tell that bimbo out front?—”
“Watch it,” Tally snapped. “You’re already skating on thin ice, Noah. If you want to walk out and quit a well-paying job in this economy, then that’s your prerogative. I will not allow you to disrespect me or anyone on my staff just because you’ve got your panties in a wad.”
“Hey, I don’t wear panties!”
“And I don’t give a fuck! If you want to keep your job, you will march yourself out of this kitchen, over to Chelsea, and apologize . You will work whatever station she’s given you and you will assist the janitorial staff in cleaning the bathrooms before you depart for the night. Have I made myself clear?” Her hand itched for the handle of her knife.
Tally knew every inch of her kitchen. After purchasing the building and updating some of the equipment, Tally had spent a week familiarizing herself with every nook and cranny prior to hiring staff and adding food supplies.
Her kitchen was forty feet long by sixteen feet. She knew how many steps it took to get from any point in her kitchen. Entry and exit doors in a restaurant were always from and to the kitchen. That way, there was no confusion as to which direction someone was allowed to walk through that door.
In the center of the room was the salad prep station and two long prep tables with pass-thru shelves. On the far wall were the fryers, griddle, charbroiler, double deck ovens, burner range, and french plate. The front wall between the two kitchen doors housed the serving staff’s work tables bracketed by two handwashing stations with splash guards.
By the exit door on the left wall were the reach-in fridge and freezers, a single compartment sink, and another worktable. The entry door Noah had so rudely come through was on the right, next to the dishwasher’s station.
All of her equipment was top of the line and stainless steel. A good part of her opening budget had been spent updating the fire-suppression system and the HVAC throughout the entire building.
Tally was working behind the prep counters in the center of the room. Her back was to the range where her sauces were simmering for the evening meals. To her left was her spice rack, and like everything else in her kitchen, it was kept in a specific order. Her kitchen staff was extremely good at putting items back when they weren’t in use and putting them back in her required locations. Everything had a braille label on it, which was one of the duties of her prep cooks when they accepted new orders.
She heard Noah approach the prep table. He knew better than to come behind it. Her dining staff were only allowed in the front of the kitchen. That was mainly for sanitary purposes, but also because they were not trained to be anywhere else. She required all of her staff to be ServSafe Certified, but there were different levels to that certification. Why create an unnecessary hazard?
But Noah was a problem employee. He’d been a problem employee for a while and Tally was on her last straw with him. He either shaped up or he was out. She was certainly not going to allow him to bad mouth Chelsea, who was only doing her job and Gretchen’s at the moment.
From his side of the pass through, Tally heard something very finely scrape and then clang against the metal. Like hollow plastic.
“You’re right, Chef. I apologize. I am so sorry.”
She was blind, not deaf. Did he honestly think she couldn’t hear the sarcasm practically dripping from his tone?
Tally was about to open her mouth to demand to know what he had done when she felt a sudden presence at her back. Noah let out a yelp of some sort, like he was scared. Then she heard the same scraping and clanging sounds as a moment ago, only hastier.
“I am sorry, Chef. Truly. I will go apologize to Chelsea. I’ll work Station Two. I won’t be any more trouble, I promise. Sorry. So sorry, Chef.”
Fast paced footsteps on her ceramic tiled floor led to the exit door and then changed tones on the vinyl flooring of the dining room.
Tally turned. He was close to her, her mystery man. Closer than he’d ever been before. If she reached her arm up, she knew she would touch him.
“What’s happening?” came over her phone. Shit, Tally had completely forgotten about Simone being on the phone when Noah had come storming into her kitchen.
Tally tipped her chin up at the man, knowing he was several inches taller than her. “He’s here,” she told her best friend. “I don’t know what Noah did, but he moved something. A second later, he moved it back, and you heard his pissed-in-his-pants scared apology.”
Simone’s voice was laced with concern. “He’s there? Your stalker is in the kitchen right now?”
“He’s standing right in front of me.”
“Do you want me to call the police?”
Tally debated for less than a second. “No, he won’t hurt me.”
“Goddamn it, Tally. Your stalker is in the room with you and you don’t want me to call for help?”
Tally shifted her head, her right ear tipped towards her mystery man. She couldn’t even hear his breathing, nor had she heard his footsteps when he’d approached. The only reasons she knew he was there were the sense of someone being in front of her and the smell of his weapons.
He had so many weapons…so why was she not afraid? He’d never been this close to her before. The instinct that he was dangerous was still there. It hadn’t decreased, but there was something in her that was telling her that he wasn’t dangerous to her . When she’d told Simone that this man wasn’t a threat to her, it had been a guess.
Now… She didn’t know what it was. Maybe the way he’d done something to help the little homeless boy who visited her restaurant in the mornings or maybe it was whatever he’d just done with Noah. It wasn’t a guess anymore.
“He can hear you,” she reminded Simone.
“Can you hear me? Why are you there? Who are you? What do you want with Tally?” There was no answer. For several long minutes, Tally could only hear her own breathing and Simone’s over the speaker phone. “ Please ,” Simone pleaded. “Don’t hurt her. I don’t know who you are or what you want with her, but please don’t hurt her. You are standing in front of one of the best people I know, someone who never fails to help others. She’s my best friend and I will be lost without her. I am begging you, don’t hurt her.”
The silence in the room spoke volumes. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak, and yet Tally knew down to the marrow of her bones that he was staring right at her.
“He won’t hurt me,” she reassured Simone.
“God, Tally, let me send Tom over there. Please. Call Mark. Somebody .”
Tally, though, did not want to do that. “I’m fine. Promise, Si. I gotta get back to work. I’ll text you before I leave for home.”
“You better. I swear to God, Tally, if you die, I will find a necromancer to bring you back to life so I can kill you myself. You are being incredibly stupid and I pray you know what you’re doing.”
Tally appreciated Simone’s concern, but she’d spent her entire life listening to her senses. The situation might be unorthodox, though that wasn’t reason enough to stop listening to herself. “Bye, Si.”
She hung up the phone before Simone could respond. She stayed where she was a moment longer before moving down towards the salad prep station. She put two pieces of sourdough bread in the toaster and started to grab the other ingredients she needed. She would have rather broiled the entire sandwich, but she was short on time.
Beggars couldn’t be choosers, though. Once she finished adding the small salad with her in-house made mango-lime dressing, Tally brought the ham and brie sandwich with sweet pears and honey down to where she knew her mystery man was still standing.
“Don’t make a liar out of me. It would be a lot easier if you would just speak with me.” She put the plate on the corner of the prep table. “Thank you, by the way, for whatever you did with Noah.”
Tally went back to work, knowing she was running out of time before her kitchen staff returned from their various breaks. It was nearly forty minutes later that she heard the soft scraping of the plate being picked up. She felt his presence fade, like he was leaving the room, and a moment later, heard the voices of her staff coming towards the kitchen.
She couldn’t help the twitch of her lips, though. Because he’d taken the food.
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[WiseWave620: Jenna’s been really exhausted since coming back from Disney. She says she’s fine, but I’m really worried. I’ve been doing a lot of research into MS and seeing if there’s maybe a specialist she can see or maybe a drug trial I can get her into.]
[WiseWave620: I wish the human body was like computers, but it’s not like I can heal her with code.]
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