Lizz Lund - Mina Kitchen 01 - Kitchen Addiction! (55 page)

“Being
unemployed isn’t so bad.  Except for the not having any money thing,” I said.

Lee
shook her head.  “I’m not talking about your getting fired.  I’m trying to
apologize for landing on you and knocking you out.”

“What?”

“I
was kind of hiding in the ladies’ room.   But then all the fire alarms went off
and I kind of panicked and I crawled up through the ceiling tile and kind of
got stuck.” She grimaced.

“You
crawled through the ceiling tile in the ladies’ room?”

“I
told you, I panicked!” she snipped.

“I’ll
say,” I said.  “So, did you take my purse, too?”

“Yeah.”
I glared at her.  “But I wasn’t trying to rip you off! I swear! I thought you
had a key to the HR cabinet in Howard’s office,” she said.

I
looked at her.  “There’s no key to that cabinet,” I said.

“But
there’s a lock on it,” she countered.

“Howard
broke that the first year I worked there,” I said.  “All you needed to do was
open the drawer.”  Lee hung her head.  “So, how do you like your new job?” I
asked, trying to switch gears.

“It’s
pretty good,” she said.  “But it’s just temporary.  In a couple weeks, I start
my new job at Krapf Communications.”

“Oh,
great.  What are you going to do there?”

“Nothing
big; just entry level,” she admitted.  “But I think I have a real knack for
slogans and such,” she said.

“Oh?”

She
nodded enthusiastically.  “I nailed my interview with a tagline for them,” she
said.  “Want to hear it?”

“Sure,”
I lied.

“Krapf
Communications,” she began: “When you hear us, you know it’s Krapf.”

I
examined the ground for lost lottery tickets.

After
exchanging a few more pleasantries, I relieved Lee of an open bottle of Pinot
Grigio and some clean glasses.  Then I made my way back to the table where
Auntie and Ma were nodding and smiling with K. and his new date, Manny.  We
exchanged some introductions and wine.

Auntie
consulted the diamonds on her wristwatch.  “The game should be getting started
very soon now,” she said, nodding to herself.

“I
better tell the fellas,” I said.  “I’ll be right back.”

I
wandered past the various families and groupings of friends showing off their
tailgate ware.  As I approached the boys, I saw a couple of car loads of
Auntie’s church buddies parked on the other side of Vito’s Towncar.  I
recognized Evelyn and Eddie and Ernie and Henry.  They were talking with
animated gauze bandaged hands, arms, noses and noggins and smiling with Vito,
Trixie and her polo player.  Beside them was another carload of people chatting,
too.

Norman
and Bauser walked over to me with Jim and Stanley.  “So, what do you think
about the burn victim ward?” Bauser asked.

“I
don’t want to know,” I replied automatically.

“Nor
do we,” Norman added.

We
walked over toward Vito’s Towncar tailgate.  Trixie was waving bye-bye to her
polo date; he was trotting down the field to kick off the first chukker.  Then,
when he was gone, she turned and faced the gauzed grannies.

“Now
I know most of you were admitted during my shift in the ER,” she stage whispered. 
There was much shuffling around of feet and walkers in response.

“It
was supposed to have been a coordinated effort,” Henry said.

“LA
LA LA LA LA LA LA!   I don’t want to know!” Trixie sang, waving and walking
back toward the party tent.

I
looked at Vito.  He shrugged.

Helena
popped out from his side.

“Hi!”
she sang, holding a chubby and adorably beautiful baby girl against her hip. 
She smiled.  “I talked it over with the family, and they’ve agreed it’s time
Uncle Vlad – Vito – met his grandniece,” she said.

Vito
nodded.  “Seems like I’m out of the woods now, so to speak,” he said.

Mrs.
Phang walked over from the church mummy crowd, wearing an expensive ivory
colored silk pant suit and some striking gold jewelry, set with jade.  “Honesty
is the best policy,” she said, handing Vito a glass of wine, and the baby an
animal cracker.

Norman
held up his can of Krumpthf’s
and we all raised our drinks.

“To
happy endings,” he toasted.

We
clinked.

“So
you guys are definitely out of the prescription sample business, right?” Bauser
asked.

Vito
nodded.  “Too much risk,” he said.

“Besides,
we’re investigating homeopathic therapies now,” Mrs. Phang offered.

“Huh?”
I asked. 

Helena
nodded.  “Mickey’s been doing a
lot of reading in prison.  Herbal remedies are the way to go,” she said. 
“They’re completely unregulated, so there’re no rules to break,” she added
helpfully.

Vito
nodded sagely. I drank the rest of my wine quickly.

The
players lined up on the field, and the first chukker started.  We watched the
horses race up and down, Vito and Bauser alternately shoving me behind anything
possible each time the polo ball came remotely near our section of the field.

An
air horn sounded a short time later, and the first three chukkers were over. 
Patrons were invited to the field for the traditional stamping of the divots. 
With the traditional warning to avoid the steaming divots.

“Game?”
Norman asked me.

“Sure,”
I said.

We
ambled out onto the field with St. Bart’s crowd and their assorted walkers,
canes and wheelchairs.  I looked down the field, and saw Ma and Aunt Muriel
laughing with K. and Manny, happily spilling wine and stomping divots.  Trixie
was petting her polo player’s horse and his thigh.  So to speak.  I looked
toward the party tent, and saw Lee actually smiling while she was working. 
Huh.  Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all.   Maybe she just hated her job as much
as I did mine.  Armand frowned intensely and served briskly, happy in his work.

I
smiled to myself, turned around, and stepped right into a pile of poo.

“Shit,
shit, shit!” I said.

“Uh,
yes, it is,” he said.

I
looked up and saw the non-irate chef from Squirrel Run Acres.

“May
I?” he asked, kneeling down and picking my foot up out of the horse manure.  He
pulled out a few thousand paper towels from his pocket and took my shoe off to
wipe it.

“It’s
really okay,” I started.

“I’ll
be right back,” he said.

I
stood on the field, one foot in the air like a flamingo.

K.
hurried over. “OMG, girlfriend! He’s just like Prince Charming!” he whispered.

“He
took my shoe,” I said simply.

“I
know! Isn’t that fabulous?” K. said, then beat a hasty retreat.

Chef
came back with my wet shoe.  “It needed to be hosed off,” he explained.

“Oh,”
I answered brightly.

“Here,”
he said, and offered my shoe for me to put back on.  I squashed my foot into
the soggy mess.

“Thanks.
What’s your name?”

“Jack,”
he replied.

“Really?”

He
shrugged.  “Chef Jacque in the kitchen.  Jack everyplace else. My mom’s
French,” he explained.  “What’s yours?”

“Mina,”
I said.

He
smiled.  “So, Mina, I hear you like to cook,” he began.

ABOUT
THE AUTHOR

Lizz Lund loves Lancaster.  Since 1999, she’s been having a terrific time here and thinks everyone
else should, too.  She is a newlywed and head-over-heels about her chef
husband; she made him move from New Jersey, too. 
Kitchen Addiction!
is her first novel of the Mina
Kitchen series.  Lizz grew up in Glen Rock, New Jersey and still
hasn’t recovered.  She holds a BA in Musical Theatre from Syracuse University, but has never learned to waitress
.

LOOK FOR THE SEQUEL TO
KITCHEN ADDICTION!
  COMING
SOON: 
Confection Connection.

Stay tuned! Check out Lizz’s site for updates!

www.LizzLund.com

For quick, fun reads:  Lizz’s blog - Simmerings

www.LizzLund.com

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ect with Lizz:

Twitter:  @FunnyAuthor

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