Elise says, “You were about to.”
“I was thinking it.”
“That’s louder from you.”
I almost smile. “Good night, Elise.”
“Good night, Chef,” Elise says.
Marc leaves after a quiet nod. Inès follows with a soft good night and a small bundle of leftover herbs tucked into her bag. I pretend not to see it because I am not interested in becoming a worse man over chervil.
Thomas is last among the younger cooks. He stops near the pass, shoulders tight beneath his jacket.
“Chef?”
I look up from the station I am wiping. “Yes?”
Thomas swallows. “Thank you for tonight.”
I set the cloth down.
“Don’t thank me for expecting you to do your job.”
Thomas nods quickly.
“Yes, Chef. I know. I just mean…” He pauses, searching for the least foolish version of the sentence.
“I mean I learned a lot.”
“That is better.”
“Yes, Chef.”
“You also did not kill the turnips.”
A small, startled smile breaks across his face before he controls it.
“No, Chef.”
“Keep that standard.”
“I will.”
“Go home.”
“Yes, Chef. Good night.”
“Good night, Thomas.”
He leaves with more energy than he had five minutes ago.
Julien reappears from the office with the delivery sheet. He places it on the pass.
“Fish at dawn,” Julien says.
“Produce after. Linen confirmed. Claire sent three messages.”
“Delete Claire from the evening.”
