Simmer Down

by Jessica Conant-Park

  Josh started to laugh. “You want me to hit your supervisor on the head with a ladle?”

  “She’s probably killing him right now. Go!” I reached for the handle of the walk-in, pulled open the heavy door, and pushed my brave chef in ahead of me.

  The scene was just what I’d feared: she was killing again! Specifically, Naomi had Eliot pinned against a wall, and, vampire fashion, appeared to be biting him.

  “Stop it!” I screamed.

  Naomi spun around, saw the two of us, and screamed right back at us. Since Josh had failed to raise the ladle in a protective manner, I steadied myself on my feet in preparation for Naomi’s attack.

  Eliot stumbled forward, his head hanging low. I looked him over for wounds, blood, or other signs of assault but saw none.

  “This is so embarrassing,” he said. “We shouldn’t be using your storage area like it’s the backseat of a car. I really apologize.” Eliot adjusted his shirt, which had slipped out of his waistband.

  Oh, my God. We’d walked in on Naomi mauling Eliot, all right! Just not mauling him in the manner I’d expected. Gross. It took me a few seconds to process the information that Naomi was not attempting to murder Eliot and was not a lesbian. I’m not sure which realization was more shocking.

  “Eliot and I met in a yoga class a few months ago,” Naomi explained, brushing her braids back from her face. “I’ve been wanting to tell you, Chloe, but the relationship is sort of new and, well, anyhow…Chloe, I have something to share. Eliot is now the man in my life.” She put her arm around his waist and leaned into him.

  Eliot cleared his throat. “When Food for Thought came around, obviously I suggested that Naomi and I pair up, but we were trying to keep up professional appearances.”

  “Eliot’s gallery was a very desirable spot,” Naomi said. “We felt that the larger, more powerful agencies might be so resentful that there’d be accusations of favoritism.”

  “So,” Eliot continued, “we didn’t mention our being together to anyone. Now that that’s behind us, I guess there’s no reason to keep this a secret anymore.” He and Naomi smiled at each other, clearly smitten. “Naomi was telling me over dinner that she’d never been behind the scenes at a restaurant, so Gavin said it wouldn’t be a problem if I showed her around. Sorry. I guess we got a little distracted.”

  “No problem,” Josh tried to reassure them. “I’m very happy for you two. Since you’re here, why don’t I give you a personal tour?”

  The horny couple followed Josh out of the walk-in and, still in a state of shock, I plodded after them. Huh. So either Naomi had committed a one-time murder and was going to give her new love, Eliot, a reprieve from death by small kitchen appliance, or she hadn’t killed Oliver at all.

  Josh was showing off a still-new-looking gas stove, complete with eight burners and a flattop grill. When Eliot jumped in to explain the differences between professional and home stoves, Josh took the opportunity to step back and continue our previous conversation.

  “See, I told you it wasn’t Naomi. She’s a lust-driven social worker, just like you!” He nudged me and gave an exaggerated wink. “I’m kidding! But seriously, I’m pretty sure Gavin was the one who killed Oliver.”

  “Why do you think that? He got the location from the Full Moon Group. He had no reason.”

  “As I’ve learned over the past couple of weeks, Gavin thinks God meant him to have this location. Chloe, you’ve probably heard him. He keeps saying that getting this place was meant to be. Like it’s fated or some bullshit like that.”

  “Now that you mention it, Gavin said that tonight, when Doug and I got here. And something about thanking God.”

  “And I don’t think he was talking about God in a true religious sense, since as far as I can tell, he’s not particularly devout in any other sense of the word. He’s more caught up in the idea of some vague higher power,” Josh explained, gesturing wildly into the air. “As nice a guy as Gavin seems, he’s a nut job, if you ask me. I bet he killed off Oliver because Oliver was the Full Moon partner with the most clout, and that group had tried to interfere with Gavin’s so-called destiny.”

  To me, Gavin had seemed so normal. Perhaps I wasn’t paying enough attention at school; clearly, my diagnostic skills were weak. “When I talked to Isabelle today,” I said, “she tried to tell me that Gavin was talking about God, but I guess I wasn’t really listening. I’m going to be a crappy social worker,” I moaned.

  “You’re going to be great. I didn’t say anything to you about Gavin having this weird side to him because I didn’t want you to worry. And selfishly, I thought Simmer could be a great restaurant, and good executive chef jobs are hard to come by. I really don’t want to get involved in this, and I don’t exactly have any proof that Gavin is a killer, so I’m just trying to stay out of this whole mess. I don’t want this to be happening,” Josh confessed.

  I couldn’t fault him for feeling that way. Half of all restaurants close within the first six months. If Josh had found a professional home for himself, a place that could not only survive but become highly successful, he wouldn’t want to lose it.

  “The thing I don’t understand,” I said, “is, why kill Oliver? Yeah, he seemed to be the leader of the Full Moon Group, but Barry is the one who’s been making jokes about buying Simmer from Gavin. Barry is the one who really appreciates great food and is nuts about the whole culinary industry. Oh, whatever.” I shrugged my shoulders. “We can’t figure this out. And as long as it’s not Naomi and as long as Hannah leaves you alone, I don’t want to be in this mess. So for now, since we know Eliot is no longer in any danger of losing his life at the hands of my supervisor, and since Hannah is otherwise engaged with Sean, do you want to come sit down with us for dessert?” If there was no reason to miss out on my Bananas Three Way, my stomach still had room.

  Josh laughed. “Food always comes first with you. One of the many things I love about you.” He put both hands on my cheeks and turned my face up to his for a soft, slow kiss.

  Was that Josh saying he loved me? We hadn’t actually said “I love you” to each other, although it was clear that’s how we felt. For some reason, we were both being cautious about saying it out loud, and it wasn’t something I needed to hear to be happy with Josh. Still, I couldn’t help thinking that it would be nice when it happened.

  Eliot and Naomi had wandered off and were exploring the other side of the kitchen, where the vegetables and sauces sat lined up in stainless steel containers at the back of a long counter.

  “Come on.” Josh took my hand. We were turning to leave the kitchen when Snacker hurried through the door from the dining room.

  “Happy New Year everyone!” he shouted to no one in particular.

  “Where have you been?” Josh looked exasperated. “Dude, stick around once in a while, will ya?”

  “Sorry, sorry, sorry. I’m all yours again. What do you need?”

  “Just make sure all the desserts go out, okay? Things are going fine, and I don’t want that to change. Then head up the cleanup. Good thing Gavin only wanted one seating since you’ve been MIA most of the night.”

  Snacker placed his hands on his chest. “I will handle everything from here on out. You have my word. That way, you and your lovely lady will have the rest of the evening to yourselves.”

  “You got yourself a deal,” Josh happily agreed.

  We ran into Adrianna in the middle of the dining room. Yet again, she was returning from the ladies’ room.

  “Are you feeling all right?” I asked her, as we reached our table. “You’ve been to the bathroom, like, a hundred times tonight.”

  “Yeah. I’m okay,” she said vaguely. “Nothing serious.”

  Josh pulled over a stray chair for himself and scooted in next to me. Everyone else at the table had finished dessert, and Doug glowered at me for having left him stranded with my family for so long.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. But you owe
me one. Your nephew spent ten minutes telling me more than I wanted to know about Thomas the Tank Engine and all of Thomas’s little train friends. Did you know that Thomas is a boy and has a penis?”

  I glanced over at Walker, who was busy examining the underside of his train.

  “I thought I might die of boredom. You better have worked things out with Josh.” Doug looked hopefully at me. “Don’t leave me again!”

  “We have. I’ll go hang out with your right-wing parents as payback. Deal?”

  Doug nodded, happy in the knowledge that my spending an evening with his less-than-liberal mother and father would more than compensate for having abandoned him at Simmer.

  My banana ice cream had melted, and the caramelized bananas were now cold, but even so, my dessert was wonderful. Doug had saved me a bite of the rich chocolate torte and had even left me a couple of raspberries. One taste and I had yet more reasons to be head over heels for my chef!

  “Is something going on with Owen?” Doug wondered aloud.

  “What do you mean? He looks fine to me,” I said, licking my fork in a display of uncouth table manners. “Adrianna’s the one I’m a little worried about. She’s spent half the night in the ladies’ room. It’s not the food, obviously. Everyone else is fine, and Josh is a fiend about fresh ingredients and a sanitary kitchen. What do mean about Owen?”

  “I don’t know. He’s all fidgety tonight, like he’s anxious or something.”

  “I have no idea.”

  As if on cue, Owen stood up from his chair. Unfortunately, he had tucked the tablecloth into his pants, so we all spent a few moments picking up spilled glasses and rearranging dinner plates.

  “My apologies,” Owen said formally. “I’m a little nervous. But I have something to say.” He buttoned his jacket and ran a hand through his hair. “Adrianna—” he began with a loving look at my best friend.

  Oh, my God! He was going to propose! This was so exciting! It’s not often that you get to witness a proposal. Usually you just get a giddy phone call from a friend, or one day your girlfriend holds up her hand to show off a new ring. But to be right here while my best friend got engaged was too exciting for words!

  No wonder Adrianna hadn’t been feeling well! She must have suspected that Owen was going to ask her tonight. She wasn’t sick; she was nervous. I looked wistfully at Ade and prepared myself for what was bound be a totally romantic proposal from Owen.

  Adrianna was ashen. Seriously. No color in her face whatsoever. Wow, maybe she hadn’t suspected after all. Maybe she really was surprised, and now the monumental significance of what was about to happen was sending her into shock. I wished that Owen would hurry up. What if Adrianna collapsed and had to be rushed off in an ambulance? Well, I’d miss witnessing my first marriage proposal, that’s what.

  Josh grabbed my hand tightly. “Uh-oh,” he said softly.

  Uh-oh? What does he mean by uh-oh? She was going to say yes. Why wouldn’t she? I turned to Josh with irritation. What was he talking about?

  “…I am completely in love with you,” Owen was saying.

  We all made appropriate oohing noises in support of Owen’s declaration.

  Josh squeezed my hand tighter. “Oh, no.”

  “What?” I whispered confused. “‘Oh, no’ what?” I was really annoyed at him for interrupting my enjoyment of Adrianna and Owen’s engagement.

  “Snacker,” Josh whispered back.

  Snacker? What did Snacker have to do with anything? Everything was under control in the kitchen. Only a few minutes earlier, he’d taken a solemn oath to handle everything. I knew that Snacker had been slacking off tonight and taking too many breaks, but…

  Oh. Shit.

  I spun around to face Adrianna, who looked as though she might go into cardiac arrest at any moment.

  Snacker hadn’t been taking those breaks alone.

  Ade caught my eye and silently begged me to get her out of this mess. No matter how seedy and slimy it had been of Adrianna to do whatever she’d been doing with Snacker tonight, she was still my best friend. But I felt more sympathy for Owen than I did for Adrianna. No matter how unpromising poor Owen was as a potential husband and no matter how vocationally lost he was, I couldn’t let him get shot down in front of everybody. I had to rescue Owen before he had his heart broken in public.

  I had to brainstorm quickly. I’d cause some kind of a scene, any kind, and ruin the moment so tremendously that Owen would be unable to finish his proposal. My two friends could talk about their six thousand conflicts and differences and dissatisfactions later. If Heather had only kept drinking, she could have been provoked to jump atop the table and perform a scene from Moulin Rouge.

  Owen was closing in on the big question. “…so what I want to ask you, Adrianna, is…”

  I was on the verge of faking a dramatic mental episode when noises from the back of the restaurant preempted me. Loud crashes sounded from what I thought was Josh’s office. A second later, someone or something slammed into what was definitely the door to the office, a door that was now closed.

  “What the hell is going on?” Josh took off across the dining room, dodging alarmed customers. Not to miss out on the action, I was right behind him. As we approached the source of the noise, I recognized Gavin’s voice, but he was shouting so frantically that I couldn’t make out his words. Still, there was no question that he was bellowing madly. Josh must be right about Gavin’s being the killer! He was in Josh’s office trying to finish off his second victim!

  Josh tried the handle on the door. “Dammit, it’s locked. Where are my keys?” He fumbled around in the pockets of his baggy chef pants until he produced a huge key ring and eventually found the right one and opened the lock. He was able to push the door open only a few inches when it snapped shut.

  “Snacker!” Josh called out. “Help me open this door.” I was mildly offended that Josh solicited help from Snacker. Typical for men to ask other men for help when it came to physical demands! I could have been just as useful as Snacker. I’d have to flex my biceps for Josh later.

  “Is that Gavin in there?” Snacker asked as he appeared. He threw a dish towel over his shoulder, and he and Josh leaned on the door together.

  “Yeah,” Josh grunted against the weight of the door. “We have to get in there. Push!”

  Like a silly cheerleader rooting for her team, I stood behind them.

  After two tries, the chefs forced the door open to reveal Gavin and Barry locked tightly together in a struggle. Just visible between them was a large handgun.

  Josh and Snacker took major steps back.

  So certain had I been that Josh was right about Gavin that it took a moment to absorb what I was seeing. The man clutching the weapon was not Gavin, but Barry. Barry was the one who held the gun, and Gavin was furiously trying to wrest it out of Barry’s hands.

  While in the process of trying to save his own life, Gavin was shouting, “You are not getting my restaurant from me, you maniac! It is meant to be mine, and you will not take it away!” This didn’t seem the time to be arguing with Barry, but it didn’t stop Gavin from screaming that he wouldn’t make Barry a partner if he were the last fruitcake on earth.

  I looked behind me in search of some large object to hurl at the two men. Where was that lethal ladle when we needed it? The couple at the table nearest me had a full bottle of red wine, so I reached between the horrified-looking pair of diners and grabbed the glass bottle. Raising my arm up, I aimed for Barry’s head and hurled the bottle as hard as I could.

  The bottle completely missed Barry and hit the ceiling light, shattering glass and knocking out the bulb. I momentarily remembered why I had always been the last kid chosen for teams in gym class. Apparently age hadn’t improved my pitching skills whatsoever, but the noise startled the two men long enough for an enraged Gavin to secure the gun from Barry’s hand.

  Gavin held the gun on Barry, who seemed to accept his defeat and was kneeling on the floor, the fight drained out of
him.

  “See this creep?” Gavin hollered. “He thinks he’s some kind of godfather. Trying to make me an offer I couldn’t refuse. When I told him no amount of money could get him my restaurant, he pulled this gun on me. As if I would ever let you get your hands on my place. You’re disgusting, Barry.”

  I heard sirens wailing outside, and I was hoping that those were for Simmer and not for some other New Year’s crisis. With all the traffic and people crowding the streets outside, I hoped the police could get here before Gavin hauled off and shot Barry.

  “Barry!” Dora said angrily. “You fool!”

  She and Sarka appeared now and stood next to me, Dora looking furious and Sarka looking near tears.

  “I knew you must have been the one who killed my husband. You and your idiotic ideas about opening an expensive restaurant. As if wasting all that money on grand tours of Europe wasn’t bad enough, then you wanted to sink all of Full Moon’s profits into some money-eating restaurant?” Gone was the meek, sorrowful Dora from this morning. This woman was on fire.

  “You ungrateful little shit!” she continued, shaking and pointing her finger at Barry. “After everything that Oliver did for you! You would have been nothing if Oliver hadn’t taken pity on you and let you become part of his company. He was the one with the brains and the business savvy, and you just kept trying to muck that all up. But he wouldn’t let you. Oliver blocked you at every step, at every stupid, costly step you tried to take.”

  Dora turned to me, tears streaming down her face. “Barry couldn’t take it anymore.” Then she paused and eyed me suspiciously. “Weren’t you at my house today?”

  I nodded.

  “Huh.” Even in her crazed state, she seemed confused that someone of my low status could be present during this high drama. She turned back to Barry. “So, the night you killed Oliver, you’d had it with him ridiculing you for your pompous, contrived love of art and fine food! And you thought killing him would give you what you wanted?”

  Dora lunged toward her husband’s killer, and Josh and Snacker grabbed her before she could get more than a few feet.