"Walk-in," he finally snarls."What?"
"Meet me in the freezer. Now."
He turns and strides toward the cooler area, clearly expecting me to follow.
The kitchen staff parts like the Red Sea.
Everyone is suddenly very interested in their mise en place.
I catch Chef Rubio's eye as I pass—she gives me a look that's half you're so dead and half that was freaking awesome.
I gulp.
I steel myself.
Then I walk.I follow Andrew's back as he stomps through the kitchen. No one we pass will look at me, as if my bad vibes might be contagious.
When we get there, Andrew yanks open the giant silver door to the walk-in freezer and steps inside.
I follow because what other choice do I have?
The door seals behind us with a pneumatic hiss. Just like that, we're alone.
Trapped in this narrow, frigid tomb of hanging meat and frost-covered shelving, our breath forming clouds between us.
He turns on me so suddenly I nearly collide with his chest. "You think you're clever?"
