By the time Amara was on the bus and Daniel was on the Red Line, heading south toward work, he had almost convinced himself he believed it almost. He got to Aara's Kitchen at 10:15, half an hour before his shift started the way he always did. The prep team was already in motion. Carlos, the morning sous chef, gave him a nod from across the kitchen. The new dishwasher, a kid named Jerome, who was 19 and still figuring out that showing up on time was not optional, was moving faster than usual, which meant someone had already spoken to him.
Daniel tied on his apron and got to work. He did not think about Victoria Hayes. He thought about her approximately every 12 minutes. The lunch service was clean. The dinner prep was clean.
Daniel moved through the kitchen the way he always did, calm, efficient, aware of everything happening around him simultaneously. And if his mind kept returning to a specific face and a specific smile and specific words, he kept that entirely to himself. At 2:15 in the afternoon, Marcus Tillett appeared in the kitchen doorway. Marcus was the general manager of Aara's Kitchen, a broad shouldered man of 47 who had managed restaurants for 20 years and had the specific kind of energy that came from having survived every variety of kitchen disaster and emerging from all of them with his sense of humor intact. He and Daniel had developed an easy working relationship built on mutual competence and the unspoken understanding that neither of them had time for nonsense.
He leaned against the door frame and said casually, "Miss Hayes called this morning." Daniel kept chopping. "What did she need? Wanted to know how the Tuesday service went." Marcus paused.
She also asked about you specifically. The knife kept moving. Steady even. What did she ask? Wanted to know your schedule this week.
What shifts you were on? Daniel looked up. Marcus held up both hands. I'm just the messenger. I told her you were on through Friday, standard supervisor hours.
He paused again. Daniel, what's going on? Nothing. She called at 8:00 in the morning to ask about your schedule, Marcus. I'm just saying that in 10 years of working for Victoria Hayes.
I have never once received a call at 8:00 in the morning that was about one specific employees schedule. She's thorough. She's interested. Marcus raised an eyebrow. And not in your prep times.
Daniel set the knife down. He turned to face Marcus with the specific expression he had developed over years of being a man. People wanted things from patient, composed, and absolutely unwilling to have this particular conversation. I appreciate your input, Daniel said. Are we done?
Marcus smiled. You're going to be stubborn about this. I'm going to do my job. Those aren't mutually exclusive, Marcus. All right.
All right. He pushed off the door frame, but for the record, she sounded different. That's all I'm saying. Sounded like a person instead of a CEO. He shrugged.