“You’ve worked alongside him for nearly two years.”
Yes, but he gives me the fucking creeps.
“Anyway,” she began, “back to what we were discussing.” She opened the file cabinet beside her and started searching as she rambled on. “I know a few good schools here on the coast. I'm good with all of them. If you take a look at these pamphlets, we can figure out a plan together.”
As she talked, I quickly pulled out my phone and texted the group chat with Margo and Carrie.
Me: Margo, has Scott been into the Buoy the last couple of nights by chance? Have there been any fights?
Marg handed me three pamphlets. “Just think about it, okay? I don’t want to look everywhere for someone I already have in the kitchen.” She grabbed my hand. “It’s your life, of course. I’ll honor whatever choice you make. If you want to stay a pastry chef, then I’ll be glad of it as well.”
I nodded. “It’s just a lot to think about, Chef. Especially with Felix’s death still on my mind.”
“Yes,” she agreed, giving me a final squeeze. “I understand.”
My phone buzzed. “If there’s nothing else, I need to run some errands.”
She smiled. “Of course, my dear. Let me know where your head is at by the end of the week?”
Oh good. A deadline.
“Yes.”
She walked me out, and thankfully, creepy Scott was nowhere in sight. Once outside, in the glow of the morning sun, I pulled out my phone.
Margo: There’s always fights. Every night. I don’t deal with them. Joey does. Who is Scott?
Me: He’s a line cook at Margie’s Place. Short-ish. Thinning black hair. Always wears a Chicago Cubs hat.
Margo: Never seen him. I’ll ask Rachel when I’m on tonight.
Me: Where are you?
Margo: Red Snake.
I bit my lip.
Me: Is Carrie with you?
Carrie: Sorry, I left my phone at the front counter. What’s up?
I looked to the street, finding most of the shops still closed. The town was quiet this morning.
Me: Are you at Rossy’s?
Carrie: Yeah.
Me: I’m on my way.
Margo: What’s going on?
Me: I don’t know.
Carrie: Are you okay?
Me: I just need a place to think.
Carrie: Come to me.
