“You need to get out of my kitchen,” Nolan said in a low, dangerous tone.
“Get out,” Nolan interrupted with a sharp snap. “Leave. You are ruining everything.”
“No,” I answered firmly, and I noticed all of the looks that I was now getting from everyone else in the kitchen. They seemed completely floored that anyone would defy the chef like this. “Listen, I know I’ve messed up… A few times now. But I can’t just leave you to deal with it. I have to fix it. Maybe I shouldn’t be going rogue in your kitchen, but then you have to tell me what you need. How can I help you?”
Nolan didn’t say anything. Instead, he slowly put the newly ruined bowl down on the counter along with the fork he’d been using to stir it.
“I’m serious,” I continued, balling my hands into fists at my sides to build more courage. “I’m not leaving you alone with a flaming disaster.”
“You’re the disaster,” Nolan answered angrily, before he stomped past me. Everyone else gave way to him like he was parting the ocean, all clearly eager to avoid being a target for his wrath.
I wasn’t going to give up that easily, though. I followed him, making sure not to bump into anyone else as I did. I was going to fix this, no matter what. My first day may have started off badly, but it wasn’t going to keep progressing downhill.
“I can help,” I insisted, noticing that Nolan was heading for the chilled pantry. Probably to get fresh ingredients. “Even if I just carry things for you. Honestly, give me a chance. You might be surprised.”
Nolan didn’t look back. He held his shoulders high and tight, clearly sticking to the idea that I should be leaving rather than attempting to assist him. I was, however, determined to prove myself. I needed him to trust that I could get things done, and I needed this first impression to disappear.
He opened the door to the chilled pantry, which had already been slightly ajar, and walked inside.
I attempted to follow, only to trip over a crate that was standing right in the entrance. Persimmons went rolling across the floor. As I fell forward, the crate moved, and the door creaked shut behind me. I caught myself on a nearby shelf, and straightened up before Nolan could see what had happened.
“Seriously?” Again, a low rumble came from his voice when he spoke. He turned incredibly slowly, as if he didn’t want to see what I had done. When he was facing me, he looked over my shoulder at the closed door.
“What?” I asked, glancing backward for a second before looking back at him. “Nothing broke. Who puts a crate of persimmons right where we’re meant to be walking, anyway? Someone could get hurt.”
“How clueless are you?” Nolan asked, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He seemed like he was on the verge of a panic attack. “That crate is kept there for a reason. It was keeping the door open!”
I stared down at the crate with a frown. “Shouldn’t this place be closed, though? To keep the freshness, or whatever? Either way, it’s fine. We can just—”
I moved over to the door, and tried to push it open. Nothing happened. “Huh. It’s a little stuck, but if we just...”
Nothing worked. Not the forceful jerk, nor the added shove from my shoulder. And that was with me using all the strength I had. It didn’t budge. When I looked at him, Nolan was rubbing at his temples, as if he was fighting a building migraine.
“The latch is faulty,” he said, now sounding more tired than furious. “It can’t open from the inside. That’s why the persimmons were there. So that nobody would get stuck in here.”
“So then we just call someone to open it.” I shrugged, still looking for the silver lining in the situation. I wasn’t entirely sure that there was one, but that didn’t matter.
I had to keep going until the problem was solved. As long as we could fix this somehow, everything would be okay, and I could still get on Nolan’s good side.
“With all of that noise out there?” Nolan shook his head. “They wouldn’t hear us. Plus, there’s no cell service in here. We’re stuck until someone notices how long we’ve been gone. I told you to leave my kitchen. If you’d done that right from the start, maybe I could have saved that sauce. But no. You just have to get in people’s way, don’t you?”
“That’s not true,” I answered, deciding that I was going to stand my ground. “I’ve been trying to help you, but you just…”
“I just nothing,” he snapped, starting to pace between the shelves of fresh fruit and vegetables. “I run a tight kitchen. People know what they’re doing at all times. It’s a well-oiled machine, and you’re the wrench getting between the cogs and just… fucking everything up. That’s why we’re in this position now.”
“Arguing with me isn’t going to help,” I said, not wanting to admit out loud that he was probably right. “Are you sure nobody will hear us? They saw us come in here. They’ll open it from the outside.”
“Didn’t you hear what I just said? My people are focused. There’s a lot of noise.” He stomped up to the door and began banging loudly. When nothing happened, he turned back to me. “Nobody is going to hear us.”
I stared at the door, hoping that someone would prove him wrong, but it didn’t open. Nolan sighed and walked to the far end of the room before swinging on his heels to chastise me further.
“You need to keep your nose out of the kitchen,” he snapped. “If you need something, call. Don’t ever set foot in here unless you’re expressly told to. I don’t need more meals ruined because you can’t move without spilling everything on the floor. Stick to your job, and let me do mine in peace.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, still prepared to defend myself. “But if you actually let people help you, maybe things like this wouldn’t happen.”
“Are you kidding me?” Nolan rolled his eyes. “Honestly, of all the times for Gregory to quit. Why now?”
I blinked a few times at the mention of the name. Gregory was the previous concierge. From what Reggie had said earlier, he’d been fired. But Nolan said he quit, and I was told that he’d retired. What was the truth? And why were there so many conflicting stories about it?
