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“The entire world wants you to hook up with your work crush,” Darcy said. “It’s like you’re Jim and Pam, but real.”
“Ha.”
Rachelle’s phone buzzed, and she glanced down to find a notification that read: Eddie Winston followed you back!
“Oh my gosh!” Rachelle nearly dropped her coffee mug as Darcy hurried around the kitchen island to read Rachelle’s screen.
“Uh-oh,” Darcy teased. “Let the games begin.”
Rachelle’s cheeks burned. “We just talk sometimes. And I have an itsy, bitsy crush on him. It’s not a big deal.”
Darcy smiled. “Just promise me you’ll let yourself have fun. If you want to.”
Rachelle laughed. “When have I ever kept myself from that?”
The Clam Factory was abuzz with a camera crew, servers, and kitchen staff. Everyone was effervescent after seeing themselves on television last night. There was the air that they were doing something really important. Rachelle smiled as she entered, touching her hair nervously. She’d been told that at any moment, the cameras were allowed to film her. She wanted to look her best.
As she headed for the kitchen, Eddie beelined for her as though she were the only girl in the room. Her heart did a backflip.
He raised his chin like a jock. “Hey, Rach.”
To Rachelle’s left, she could feel the camera on them. She smiled with nerves. With Eddie’s eyes upon her, she felt as though she floated a few feet above the ground.
“Hey, Eddie. What’s up?”
“Another day, another dollar, you know?”
Rachelle laughed a little too long. “I think you made the entire world fall in love with you last night.”
Eddie laughed. “I should say the same to you, girl.”
Rachelle couldn’t breathe. Before she could think of something to say, the door between the dining room and kitchen swung open to reveal Diana dressed immaculately in chef whites, her lips heavy with evil red lipstick. She glared at Rachelle for all to see and said, “Rachelle? Can I talk to you in my office for a moment?”
Rachelle felt as though she had walked the plank. All the way to the office, she assumed she was getting fired. The camera crew followed her like hungry dogs.
“Do you want to see me without the crew?” Rachelle asked as she entered the office.
“No, no. They come everywhere,” Diana said wearily, beckoning for Rachelle to sit down in front of her.
The camera crew fumbled around them, trying to get the best shot of Diana on one side of the desk and Rachelle on the other. It would have been comical if Rachelle hadn’t been so terrified.
Diana folded her hands on the desk between them and took a deep breath. Rachelle could feel the heat of the cameras.
“I wanted to ask you how the transition has been here for you,” Diana said.
Rachelle tilted her head. The question felt so normal, like any “boss” would ask their employee.
“It’s been good,” Rachelle said. “A bit strange, but good. I’m happy with the direction of the menu, and I’ve felt the workflow in the kitchen has been smooth.”
Diana continued to peer across the desk at her with anger etched across her face. Rachelle felt completely like Anne Hathaway in The Devil Wears Prada. She felt lost and very small.
“And I appreciate the inventiveness you’ve brought to the kitchen?” Rachelle expressed. “It’s really brought fresh energy to the restaurant.”
This was true. After years of watching Diana and Ryan on television, she’d assumed Ryan was the only one with any real “creativity” in the kitchen. Perhaps Ryan was lending Diana ideas. Then again, Rachelle hadn’t heard Ryan’s name mentioned once since they’d begun working together. Was he working on another show? Was he sick?
Or had something happened between Diana and Ryan? Something that was breaking them up?
Rachelle didn’t want to think that. They were television’s favorite culinary couple. She loved their love.
