“I’m speaking to you.”
The man finally looked at her.
“The grouper was prepared according to the menu approved three weeks ago.”
His voice was quiet.
Professional.
That seemed to make her angrier.
“I don’t care what was approved three weeks ago. It’s my wedding.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t ‘yes, ma’am’ me.”
She slammed the plate onto a stainless-steel counter.
“My father is paying nearly three hundred thousand dollars for this reception. Do you understand that?”
“I do.”
“And this is what you serve me?”
She picked up a large silver serving tray.
Martin stepped forward.
“Ms. Harrington, perhaps we can—”
The chef lifted one finger slightly.
Martin stopped immediately.
Olivia noticed.
“What?”
Nobody spoke.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Why is everyone acting terrified?”
She turned back toward the chef.
Then, without warning, she hurled the tray across the kitchen.
It struck the tiled wall inches from him.
Sauce splattered across two cooks.
Someone gasped.
The chef didn’t move.
Olivia stepped closer.
“You’re fired.”
The kitchen became completely silent.
The man tilted his head.
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
Olivia laughed.
“You work in a basement kitchen. Don’t make this difficult.”
“Of course.”
She pointed toward the rear service door.
“Take your knives and leave before I have security remove you.”
The chef folded a dish towel carefully and placed it on the counter.
Martin looked ready to faint.
“Ms. Harrington—”
Again, the chef stopped him with a glance.
Then he looked at Olivia.
“If that is what you want, I will leave the kitchen.”
“Good.”
She turned dramatically.
Then she stopped.
“One more thing.”
The man waited.
“If I see you anywhere near my reception tonight, I will make sure you never work in another luxury hotel in Charleston.”
For the first time, something almost like amusement appeared in his eyes.
“I’ll remember that.”
Olivia walked out.
Her bridesmaids followed behind her.
The doors swung closed.
For several seconds, nobody in the kitchen moved.
Then Martin rushed forward.
“Oh my God.”
The chef removed his apron.
“Martin.”
“Mr. Bennett, I am so sorry.”
The employees exchanged confused looks.
The quiet chef’s real name was Adrian Bennett.
Very few of them recognized him.
That was intentional.
