“To intimidate?”
“Claire.”
“I have to ask,” she says.
“I need a meeting.”
“With Serena Cole?”
“Yes.”
“TheSerena Cole who writes The Unvarnished Table.”
“Yes.”
Claire exhales slowly. “Why?”
I look toward the kitchen pass through the office glass. Julien is already there, pretending not to listen from across the room with disgraceful commitment.
“Because she dined here last night,” I say.
“Under another name.”
Claire’s silence becomes more dangerous.
Then she says, “You knew during service?”
“Yes.”
“Did you alter the meal?”
“No,” I say. “Not the menu.”
“That is not an answer I like.”
“I sent one additional course.”
Claire says nothing for long enough that I hear the restaurant breathing around me.
Finally, she says, “Damien.”
“—It was technically separate from the tasting menu and not part of what she can use for the rating,” I interject.
“That sounds like something a guilty man says with excellent vocabulary.”
“It is also true.”
“Is there anything else I need to know?” Claire asks.
I look at Julien. He has stopped pretending.
“Yes,” I say. “I know her.”
Claire’s voice lowers. “Define know.”
“No.”
“Oh, God,” Claire says.
