Page 4 of Wham Line
None of us said anything, though, because none of us did.
The kitchen doors flew open, and a woman stormed out.She was built big: tall and generously proportioned.Her honey-blond hair was tied back in a bun, and beneath her chef’s whites, her skin was pink from the heat of the kitchen.The sounds of pots and pans and voices calling out orders rose for a moment before the doors swung shut again.
“Mal,” she shouted, “are you insane?”
The younger man—still wearing the borrowed suit jacket—blanched and scurried away (and almost knocked down a server in the process).The older man, with a look on his face somewhere between patience and resignation, turned to face the woman.“It’s our soft open,” he said in that let’s-be-reasonable-dear tone that I was sure had led to a lot of episodes ofSnapped: Men Deserve It!“Whatever this is, don’t you think it can wait—”
“It’s my restaurant!Mine!Who the heck do you think you are?”
(That’skind ofwhat she said.)
Everyone else in the restaurant had forgotten about dinner because the show was so interesting.(Mr.Ratcliff, seated at a table for one, was so excited that his nose was twitching.) Even the servers had paused, frozen in the middle of their choreographed ballet around the dining room.The only sounds filtered in distantly from the kitchen.
“It’soursoft open,” the man she had called Mal said again, but his tone was harder this time.Taking the woman by the arm—never a wise idea, in my opinion, especially when the woman in question is an expert with knives—he turned her toward the kitchen.“And you’re making a scene.”
“I’mmaking a scene—”
But that was as far as she got before he steered her through the swinging doors.
For a moment, the silence in the dining room was total.One server, whom I recognized as a distant relation of the Archer clan, stood paralyzed, silverware clutched in one trembling hand.
Then someone started to laugh.
It was the sallow-skinned man, the one I’d seen having that, uh, intense conversation at the bar.He slid off his stool, still laughing, and turned toward the exit.He laughed the whole way, and even after he’d left, his laughter carried in from outside until the heavy doors fell shut behind him.
That released the rest of us.The Archer cousin with the silverware sprang into motion.Nalini hurried toward a service corridor at the back.And the woman with the earth-toned makeup left the bar and made her way toward the kitchen.She passed through the swinging doors without missing a beat, and then she was gone.
Fox was the first one to speak.“Well, notexactlywhat I was expecting.”
“That was so awkward,” Millie said.
Awkwardwasn’t the word I’d have chosen—stressfulcame closer; I was sweating, and I hadn’t even been involved in any of the confrontations.
But Bobby’s quiet “It’s over now; let’s just have a good evening” went a long way toward settling the rest of us.
Except for Keme, who chose that moment to kick me under the table and then look significantly at the restaurant’s main entrance.
“Ow!”But he was still glaring at me, so I amended it to “Uh, oh, I guess I’ll go check on Indira.”
Bobby put a hand on my arm and looked at Keme.
To his credit, Keme did shrink down a little and mumble, “Sorry.”
“I’ll be right back,” I said, fighting a laugh.
I was halfway to the front doors when a pop came from somewhere nearby.I glanced around for a champagne bottle and took two more steps.A second pop sounded in the distance, and my writer brain matched the sounds up with something else: gunshots.
By the time I’d turned around, Bobby was already out of his seat and running toward the kitchen doors.Fox and Millie were staring after him.Keme had on his most feral expression and was gripping Millie’s arm.
I sprinted after Bobby.
When I passed through the swinging doors, the steam and smells of the kitchen met me: onion and hot oil and fish.I glimpsed stainless-steel worktables and a walk-in refrigerator and the kind of ugly-but-practical tile that seems to abound in commercial kitchens.Men and women in Mizzenmast uniforms stared at me.Bobby was already halfway to a door marked EXIT on the far side.
I stumbled out into the alley on the other side about five seconds after him.It was dark, and the trickle of rain had thickened into a steady, soaking drizzle.Bobby knelt on the ground next to someone—at first, all I could make out was a white shirt.
When I took a step forward, Bobby raised his head and waved me back.“Stay where you are!Call nine-one-one.”
I dug out my phone.“Who is it?”
