429 Desperate Measures

(Cass)

“If he speaks English, I’ll just go tell him myself. Thank you so much for translating.”

The man smiles and nods.

I make my way towards the kitchen door. The waitress steps in front of me, shaking her head.

I smile and pat her arm. “It’s okay, this will only take a minute.” I step around her and push the door open, stepping around her and into the kitchen.

The place is chaos: steam rising from pans, knives chopping at lightning speed, and a tall, broad-shouldered chef barking orders that sound like gunshots in French.

I know his type, old-school chefs that think abuse and overworking people is how to get the best out of them. But he doesn’t intimidate me. I know what I need to do.

“Excuse me!” I call out, and the noise screeches to a halt. The chef spins around, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“What the hell you in my kitchen for?” he barks, his accent thick, but his English clear and cutting.

I swallow but hold my ground. “I had your vegetable soup. It was amazing, but I thoug