It was a three-person job.
The person would hoist the tray up, stand at the ready, nod to someone at the door. That person would look out the window, nod to another person, and wait for a signal before opening it. They would follow it through, stand, hold it open. The person with the tray would whisk through.
There were people at the grill. People at a separate stove. People dicing up other food, sliding it into containers, those containers being covered and then put into a line of fridges that lined one entire wall of the room.
“Oh, sorry.” Someone bumped into me from behind.
I glanced back, seeing the cutest little boy standing behind me. Bright blue eyes that looked almost like teardrops. Wavy blond hair, and freckles spread all over his tan face.
This was Cyclone.
I was dumbfounded.
He’d been about to run past me, but when I turned to him, he skidded to a stop and stared up at me. He looked me up and down. “Who are you? Where’s your uniform?”
He thought I was staff.
Well, maybe I was. “Hey, kid.”
He frowned, his nose pinching up, then he thought about it and burst out laughing. “Kid. I like that. I’ll call you Girl.”
“Cyclone!” Marie hollered from inside the kitchen. She was coming toward us, waving. “Come here.”
He saw her, gave me a wave. “Nice knowing you, Girl.” He took off running into the kitchen.
“Cyclone!”
He was laughing as he weaved around everyone. Two people lifted up their trays for him. Another toppled over, the tray of food spreading everywhere on the floor. The tray itself shattered into pieces.
“Cyclone!”
About three people were yelling. One staff member was holding back a smile, and still more were just shaking their heads in resignation. The far door was shoved open and he disappeared.
“Marie!” One of the other women was coming our way, her face tight in anger. “He cannot come in here. He’s messing up our entire operation. That tray alone cost over sixty dollars, not counting the food loss.”
“I know. I know, Theresa.” Marie stopped before she got to me. “I’ll talk to Mistress Quinn, but you know Cyclone.”
“Seraphina wasn’t like that.”
“But Matthew was.” Both women shared a look. The other one groaned as Marie added, “He was worse, if you remember.”
“Yes, yes.” Theresa wasn’t happy. “I know, I know.” Her eyes caught on me and she stopped. She jutted out her chin. “Who is this?” She looked me up and down. “She doesn’t wear a uniform, and I’ve not heard of any new staff joining us.”
“She’s…” Marie frowned at me.
I stepped forward, time to do my part. “I’m a friend of Kash—” I’d been about to say Kash Colello, but that wouldn’t sell the part. “Kash’s. He told me to look for Marie while he was working.”
At the mention of Kash’s name, a hush fell over the kitchen.
I’d been standing there, being invisible moments ago, but his name had everyone watching us.
“Coming!” someone yelled on the other side of the door. When the door person didn’t answer, they yelled again, “Coming in—” The door was pushed open, and smacked into the door attendant, who was staring at me. “Whoa—agh!” The tray hit the person’s back, and the staff member caught it, but not the dishes. Two more plates clattered to the floor, shattering.
Theresa whipped around, the spell broken. She threw her arm up. “Mick! Pay attention.”
I was rooted in place, still feeling their attention as they got back to work.
Marie sidled up closer. I dropped my voice. “Why?”
For the first time since I saw her, a pitying expression graced her face. “Come with me. I’ll explain a bit more.”
Great. I couldn’t tell my new family that I was family. I couldn’t tell the staff who I wasn’t, and Marie was feeling sorry for me. For some reason, I didn’t think that was a good sign. What wasn’t Kash telling me?
We moved farther down the hallway before I glanced back over my shoulder. “What was going on in the other room?” But I was more distracted that I had just met my brother. Cyclone. He said I could call him Kid.
Kid. Girl.
We were off to a good start. Then I realized he might never know who I was.
Pain sliced through me, cutting me deep, splitting me in half, and I had to stop a second.
“Come, come.” Marie motioned me to keep going. “I’ll answer all your questions in my office.”
I followed.
I tried not to dwell on a sudden emptiness that took root in the middle of my chest. Down a hallway, another. We were weaving to a far corner. The sounds of the kitchen faded until it was only the sounds of our own feet on the floor. “Here we go.” She paused before a door, punching in a code.
The door opened, and I was hit with the smells of cake and candy.