“I've got a kid.”
The cook said nothing.
“And a lease,” Destiny continued. “And Whitmore's about to be my boss.”
“You still know it's wrong.”
“Yes.”
She turned toward the plate.
“That's the problem.”
Destiny picked it up.
On the way toward the dining room, she stopped at a side station.
There were order pads beneath the counter.
She tore off a small piece of paper.
Wrote six words.
DO NOT EAT THIS. ASK WHY.
She folded it once.
Her hands trembled slightly.
Then she tucked the note against the underside edge of the plate where it would not be visible to Luke but could be felt if Elijah lifted the dish.
Destiny entered the dining room.
Luke was near the host stand.
His eyes followed her.
She placed the plate in front of Elijah.
“Here you are.”
Elijah looked at it.
Destiny said:
“Dry-aged, medium rare.”
Her voice sounded normal.
Then she leaned slightly closer.
“Just like Chef always does it.”
Pause.
“I would check below the plate if I were you.”
Their eyes met.
Only for a second.
Then she straightened.
“Let me know if you need anything else.”
She walked away.
Elijah waited.
Luke was watching from the host stand.
So Elijah did not immediately lift the plate.
He picked up his knife.
Moved the fork.
Waited until Luke turned.
Then raised one side of the plate just enough.
The note fell into his palm.
DO NOT EAT THIS. ASK WHY.
Elijah read it once.
Then again.
He placed the note inside his coat pocket.
He looked at the steak.
Suddenly the smell made sense.
Not spoiled in the dramatic sense.
Not visibly rotten.
Something more insidious.
A product deliberately deemed unworthy of guests had been made to look presentable and sent specifically to him because Luke believed he would not know the difference.
Elijah set his utensils down.
Across the room, Luke noticed.
Destiny had just entered the service corridor.
Luke followed her.
Elijah could not hear the first exchange.
Then voices rose.
“I saw you leaning over that table.”
Destiny said:
“I told him to enjoy his meal.”
“That's not what leaning in that close looks like.”
“I didn't say anything wrong.”
“That man hasn't touched a bite since you walked away.”
Destiny remained silent.
Luke continued:
“You expect me to believe that's coincidence?”
“You said yourself he might leave.”
“Don't get clever.”
“I wasn't.”
“You went behind my back.”
“I did my job.”
Luke laughed.
“Your job?”
“Yes.”
“My instruction was your job.”
Destiny looked directly at him.
“No. Serving people safely is my job.”
Several kitchen employees stopped moving.
Luke lowered his voice.
“You have no idea how this floor works.”
“I've worked here two years.”
“And I'm telling you it's going to work differently.”
Destiny replied:
“I can see that.”
Luke's face changed.
He stepped closer.
“I don't need a confession. I know what I saw.”
“Then you saw somebody doing their job.”
“You're done.”
The kitchen fell completely silent.
Destiny stared at him.
Luke pointed toward the employee corridor.
“Get your things and leave the building.”
Destiny swallowed.
“Luke.”
“Now.”
“You're firing me because I leaned toward a guest?”
“I'm firing you for insubordination.”
“What instruction did I violate?”
“You know exactly what you did.”
“No. Say it.”
Luke's expression hardened.
Destiny continued:
“Say what I did.”