In the kitchen, I hand the ticket to Tony, the head cook. He peers around me, a worried look on his lined face. “Do I need to get him out of here for you?” “Nah.” I give him a smile. “Thanks, though. I can handle it.” “Damn straight you can.” He barks out the order to the line cooks. I stand there for a long moment, just watching them move around the cramped kitchen with fluidity. Darryl obviously took the kiss as flirtation, not a goodbye.
