by Stacy Eaton
We laughed. “Yeah, my body would be too if I was doing the things that Cal has you doing. I have to tell you that I love the part where you get on the park wall, and you are all sassy and in their face. You do that so well, and it’s like the real you is finally getting a chance to come out and play.”
“It’s funny that you say that. That is one of my favorite parts too. It just feels so fun and playful, but it’s also where I suddenly get nervous again because I have to trust them to pick me up over their head and not drop me.”
“Yes, that is very true, but you can trust these men. I promise they are just as worried about dropping you as you are concerned that they will.”
“Do you honestly think that I’ll make a connection, Holly? I mean, do you think it’s possible?”
“Well, the last four contestants that we had all did.”
“Did they? You’re not just saying that? They sincerely found a connection?”
“I’m not just saying that.” She made an X over her heart and then glanced at her watch. “You ready to get back to it? We are going to do a bit of question and answer before we run you through it one last time today.”
“Let’s get going.” My cellphone began to ring and I glanced at it to see Ricardo was calling me. He never called me unless it was imperative. “Wait, Holly, I need to take this, can you give me two minutes?”
“Sure.” She stepped away to speak with Tarin and Cal.
“You caught me during a break, but I only have two minutes. What’s up, Ricardo?”
“Someone got sick,” he stated, and I frowned.
“Okay, so move Tobias into the position, that’s why we have a swing chef, and Wallace can help him.”
“No, Ali, a customer got sick.”
“What?”
“The health department is here right now. They said that a customer got sick on our food.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, they said they need to speak to you immediately. Ali, it’s E. coli.”
I glanced at the crew and then Tarin, Holly, Cal, and Victor, who stood waiting for me.
“Ali, did you hear me? The health department needs to speak to you immediately!”
“Yes! Yes, I heard you. Give me a couple of minutes, and I’ll be on my way. How was it possibly E. coli? We clean above standards!”
“I don’t know, just get here, Ali.”
“I’m on my way,” I said and then rushed to Holly. “I have to leave.”
“What? You can’t leave; we aren’t finished taping for the day.”
“Holly, the Department of Health is in my kitchen right now, and they are doing a surprise inspection because they received a report that someone got sick in our restaurant. I have to go. I have no choice! I can try to meet you all earlier tomorrow if that works.”
I was already backing away as they stared after me, and then Holly nodded. “Go! Yes, that’s important. I’ll reach out to you later.”
“Thanks, Holly, and I’m so sorry!” I grabbed my stuff and was running down the stairs and out to the street. I didn’t even hesitate to catch a cab, and the whole time, a million questions ran through my mind. What had he eaten? Who had prepared it? How had it gotten contaminated? In all my years of cooking, I had never had something like this happen to me. I’d seen it happen to other chefs and watched what they went through. Some had been fined, some fired, a few kitchens closed and businesses destroyed, all because of a single complaint.
I felt sick to my stomach as the taxi came to a stop, and I passed money over to the driver and fled the cab. I walked with my head up, my shoulders back, trying to appear confident and not scared to death. My entire career could be at stake with this one instance. My reputation for keeping a clean, efficient kitchen could be destroyed.
I paused at the back door, inhaled slowly, and released it before pulling open the door. Inside, a few of the kitchen staff milled around by the door. All of them turned to me with wide, worried eyes. They knew, like me, what could be lost with this. “Have they found anything?” I asked Paul in a whisper.
He shook his head. “They just started the main kitchen inspection. They finished the dishwashing area.”
“Okay, why don’t all of you head outside. Ask everyone else to hang out there until they are done.”
“Will do, Chef.”
“Melinda, can you take my bag and put it in the locker room, please?”
“Yes, Chef.” I stopped at the sink right inside the kitchen and washed my hands. It was the first thing I did when I stepped into this room and something that I required all my staff to do also.
“Hello, I’m Ali Davidson, Head Chef. I understand that a customer filed a complaint of an E. coli infection.”
“Hello, Ms. Davidson. Jim Rushmore, Department of Health Inspector, and yes, a customer filed a complaint after spending the morning in the emergency room. They confirmed the bacteria in his system was E. coli.”
“Was it E. coli O157:H7?
“Yes.”
“And when did he state he ate here?”
“Last night.”
I frowned. “That’s almost impossible for him to have symptoms that quickly. The incubation period is generally more than twenty-four hours, and sometimes doesn’t manifest for a few days.”
Mr. Rushmore pursed his lips at me. “You don’t need to quote those facts to me, Ms. Davidson. I am well aware of the symptoms and period for the bacteria to take effect.”
I cringed at his stern tone. “Can you tell me what he ate?”
“He consumed a garden salad, Steak Au Poivre, and crepes with fresh berries and cream for dessert.”
Well, crap! There were a lot of places the E. coli could have been hiding in that menu. However, I was still bothered by the fact that he was struck so quickly with symptoms.
“What has been tested so far?”
“The dishwasher and sanitizing area is clean, and we are about halfway through this area. We’ll need to test the foods next. I will need to know how many salads you served last night, how many of the steaks, and how many dessert dishes you brought out to patrons.”
“Yes, of course.” I turned to Ricardo. “Can you please get the numbers?”
“Yes, Chef.” He disappeared toward the office. While our numbers for salads were sometimes off, we would have a general number on that. Some people who ordered didn’t want their salad or switched it with another one of our salads instead of the standard garden. The number for the steaks would be exact though.
Ricardo returned a few minutes later as I stood off to the side and watched every move the two inspectors took. “Chef,” Ricardo handed me a piece of paper that he printed out. Ricardo had not only given me last night’s numbers but the night before too.
“Thank you, Ricardo. Is this since our last meat delivery?” He nodded, and I handed the document to Mr. Rushmore, and he looked it over.
“We’ll notify the local hospitals to be on the lookout for more cases. If it was in the salad, you could have hundreds of cases.”
“If it was in the salad, but I still don’t think it was from us. Was this man healthy otherwise?”
“As far as I know.”
“Was it possible he had a compromised immune system? That is the only way I can see him turning ill so quickly. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. Do you know the odds of that?”
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know the odds, Ms. Davidson. I’ve been doing this for a very long time.”
“Okay, and how often have you seen someone come down with E. coli poisoning in less than twenty-four hours?”
He pursed his lips and turned away from me, saying over his shoulder, “it can happen.”
His response meant that it had never happened in his career, and now my kitchen reputation was at stake. The fact that they were here was already a taint to our shining rep. It would show up on their site by tonight that they were investigating us for E. coli. Plus, it would be put into the paper to announce, in case someone
else got sick, but not bad enough to go to the hospital. They will want to track all the claims, and they will have to weed out the people who are trying to screw us by making a buck in a lawsuit—a lawsuit! Oh, my god!
I squeezed my eyes closed; I had to call Randolph and let him know what was going on before he heard about it through another chef. What time was it in France right now? I glanced at my watch; it was just after three here, and France was six hours ahead so it would only be nine there. He would be at his brother’s restaurant, probably cooking, so I’d wait at least another hour, or two, and then call him.
It was just after four, and they had tested every surface in our kitchen. We were seriously behind in preparing, and the kitchen was a madhouse. Luckily, my staff was professional and calm, and the minute they said we could return to the kitchen, everything started moving in super—but safe—speeds.
I sat at the desk in the back office and stared at the international phone number for Randolph. My gaze shifted to the report in front of me, and I was glad that Mr. Rushmore hadn’t found anything in his inspection. It made me even more confident that the person had gotten sick elsewhere.
I picked up the desk phone and started to dial the number. It took a few seconds to connect, and then it was ringing. A woman’s voice answered and spoke too quickly for me to understand. While I did know some French, it was reserved for simple phrases, and mostly kitchen terms.
“Puis-je parler avec Randolph Laurent, s'il vous plaît?” I asked for Randolph with stilted French.
“Juste un momento.” The phone clicked as she asked me to wait a moment.
It took almost a full minute before he answered gruffly, “Randolph.”
“Bonjour Randolph, c’est Ali. Comment vas-tu?”
“Ah, doux Ali, tout va bien.” He paused for one second and then switched to English, for which I was grateful. “I would ask you how you are, but if you are calling me, chérie, something must be wrong.”
“Randolph, the health inspector was here today. Someone reported that they ate here last night and came down with E. coli.”
“Overnight? Impossible!” he shouted and then started talking in French so fast that there was no chance in hell that I would understand anything. I figured after I heard someone respond to him in the background that he wasn’t talking to me. “Did they find anything?”
“No, they did a full inspection and found no signs of the bacteria in our kitchen or our food storage. I agree with you, and I don’t think that the man got it from us.”
“It was most certainly not! I know your standards and how you run my kitchen. You would not allow such things.”
“Thank you, Randolph. Hopefully, it is over, and the report will clear us, but I wanted to make you aware of it.”
“Merci mon coeu.”
After that, he asked how everything else was going, and we chatted for a few minutes until Ricardo stated that the doors were opening. I excused myself from the call and told him I’d keep him updated.
As I moved into the kitchen, it was all hands on deck. Stocks and soups were on the stove, and pastries were going into the oven. Then I realized that we had done something that we very rarely ever had to do. We pulled out our soup and sauce leftovers from the day before to get us started on the night. Thank god we did this for emergencies such as this. Randolph had said that while he detested leftovers, he would rather have a leftover than nothing to serve.
I walked around the kitchen, checking on things, and then set my phone up on the stand that I kept it on. When Holly called an hour later, I glanced at it and let it go to voicemail. Now was not the time to think about dates or dancing or television shows. We were having a bustling Wednesday night, and I needed to remain focused.
Chapter Seven
Harvey
Surprisingly, I was enjoying myself. No, I wasn’t a huge fan of dancing, but it was fun to try something new. My sister was off on the side, and she was always smiling when I looked her way. That right there made this whole thing worth the trouble. There wasn’t a better feeling in the world than to see her smile.
Maybe it was odd to feel that way about a sister, and perhaps that was because there was no other woman in my life, and no children to focus my attention on. She received all of my affections. I didn’t care what other people thought. Holly and I had been close since she was born, and I always felt like I had to watch over her and make sure she was alright.
“So, Harvey, how do you feel about the dance?” Tarin asked as we finished the break and prepared to go through the entire thing one more time.
“To be honest, I feel pretty good. It’s been more fun than I anticipated.”
“Is there anything that you are getting nervous about?” Tarin asked with a sly smile.
I chuckled. “The whole thing.”
“Well, you don’t look nervous when you do it. You really did pick it up rather quickly.”
I shrugged slightly. “I’ve never been big on dancing, so I never thought that I would have picked it up so easily.”
“After this, are you going to do more dancing?”
I gave her a lopsided grin. “You know, I just might. A friend of mine told me that a way to a girl’s heart is to dance with her. So if she picks me, I’ll probably be dancing more for sure.”
Tarin clapped her hands and giggled. “I love it! Are you worried at all that you might drop her?”
“Honestly, no—okay, maybe a little bit,” I replied with a slight chuckle. “I don’t think I’ll have a problem, but you never know. The last thing I want to do is drop her or miss a step. I just hope that we can flow right through the dance and have a good time.”
“And make a connection, right?”
“Well, yeah, of course. That’s a given,” I replied, and strangely enough, I think I meant it. Somewhere in the last two days, while I’d been making up reasons for being here, I’d started to believe my explanations.
I did want to find a woman to share my life. Was it possible to find one while dancing? Probably—I mean, how many times had I seen a woman from across the room and thought—her? There is something about her, and then I’d start talking to the woman, and I’d be like yeah—her.
That’s how it was with both my wives. I hadn’t been introduced to them. I’d seen them from across the room. We’d looked at one another; we’d smiled; we’d shared a few flirty glances, and then we’d approached one another, and it went from there. What was so different about dancing?
You were seeing that person for the first time, and you were flirting, and being playful or serious, depending on the dance. Once that was over, she would decide if she wanted to see you again. The only difference was, you didn’t get to plead your case or give her a verbal reason to see you again. You had to convince her with your body and your eyes as you moved with hers.
The fact that I was competing with two other men hadn’t escaped my mind, and I was all about a little friendly competition.
“What do you want in a woman?” Tarin asked.
That caused me to pause as I thought of an answer. “I want an independent woman, but also one that wants to be part of a couple. I travel quite a bit and work long hours. I need a woman who can accept that schedule and doesn’t feel like I’m letting her down.”
“Have you had trouble with that in the past?”
I barked out a laugh and glanced toward Holly, who had her hand over her mouth like she couldn’t believe that Tarin had just asked me that. “You could say that. A few didn’t want to wait around for me to come back. Although back then, I was traveling a lot more than I am now.”
“Anything else you’d like to see in a woman?”
“I’d like a woman who doesn’t mind me being in the kitchen, because I enjoy cooking, and I want a woman who enjoys food and isn’t afraid to laugh or cry around me when she is feeling emotional.”
“Wait? Thought all men hated to see a woman cry?”
“Oh, no, I do hate it, but if my woman is going to cry, I
want to know why and help her through it.”
“I think I just fell a little in love with you,” Tarin said sweetly, batting her lashes at me as she put her hand on my arm. “Do you consider yourself a protective man, Harvey?”
“Above and beyond what is normal,” I stated, being completely honest. “I’d give my life in a heartbeat to someone I cared for. Hell, I’d do it for a stranger.”
“Cut! That’s going to be a wrap for today with Harvey,” someone called.
Holly came to my side. “I’m so sorry about that.”
“It’s okay, Holly.”
Tarin stepped closer. “Did I say something wrong?”
I shook my head. “No, Holly was worried you’d upset me because my first wife left me while I was on deployment because she didn’t like military life, and the second one was in bed with her boss when I came home on leave a couple of days early.”
Tarin’s jaw dropped. “I’m so sorry, Harvey.”
“It’s alright, really. It doesn’t bother me to talk about it anymore.”
“Didn’t your last girlfriend have a problem with your travel too?” Holly asked.
“Yeah, she did, but at least we parted amicably.”
Tarin put her hand on my shoulder. “Well, maybe you and your date will hit it off, and she will be more independent and not have issues with your traveling.”
Holly was gnawing on her bottom lip as I answered Tarin. “Maybe.”
Tarin said she’d talk to me later and headed off to get ready for the next guy who was training after me.
Holly accompanied me out of the room. “So, you really do look like you’re having fun, Harv.”
“Ah, come on, Holly, you know I don’t do anything halfway. If I’m going to do it, I might as well have fun and do it right. Besides, maybe it will work out after all.”
Holly erupted in a quick burst of laughter. “No offense, Harv, but I told you before, she’s not your type.”
“Yeah, why do you say that?”
She shook her head and glanced around slightly. “I can’t tell you, you know that, but I will tell you that I know her, as a friend, and you are completely not her type. Or she might be your type, but you are not her type.”
