Chloe Blake – A Taste Of Pleasure (страница 10)

As they passed by her, his arm shot out and swung at the air between them. She stepped forward, grasping his hand. His other pulled at the face mask.

“Per favore, I think he wants to say something,” Dani shouted.

“Cuh...Cuh...” Marcello stuttered.

“Chef, stay calm. I’m coming to the hospital.”

“Nuh.” Marcello shook his head. “Kit-en.”

Dani frowned. Kittens? “Marcello, put your mask back on. We can talk later at the hospital.”

Marcello rapidly shook his head and a medic stepped forward.

“Step back, signora. We must get him to the hospital.”

She did as she was told, watching the pointed look in Marcello’s eyes. The medics were quick to restrain him and the mask was placed back on his face, but not before she heard him speak one last time.

“Kitchen.”

The man was staring death in the face and he was concerned about the kitchen?

Wendall did a double take as he followed the gurney out the back door. “Danica? Oh, Dani! My God, it’s so good to see you.” He ran over and gave her a quick hug. When he pulled back, tears sprang to his eyes. “They are taking him to Milan General. I must go with him. Please, find Gianni, the sous-chef. Please!”

“Go. I’ll find him.”

Just as quickly as they arrived, the medics and Wendall departed, leaving Dani and the staff bereft in their wake.

No one moved. The hostess cried. The line cooks blinked. The waitstaff were gaping from inside the double doors.

A burnt smell filled the room. Dani looked around and saw filets burning. Pots boiled over. A steak was sitting idle on a plate under the heat lamps. Vegetables lay midchop.

Kitchen.

Dani looked around the room for the sous-chef, who would be attired in black just as Marcello was, but she only saw white coats.

“Which one of you is the sous-chef?”

Heads swiveled, but no one came forward. She asked again, this time in her choppy Italian. “And get those fillets off the burners. Now.” A line cook jumped.

The hostess came out of her stupor and raised her voice.

“Start shutting down. There will be no more service tonight. I’ll inform our guests that we will be closed for the unforeseeable future and—”

“You will do no such thing,” Dani interrupted.

“Signora, it seems you are a friend of the chef, but—”

“But nothing. Chef wants this kitchen open. And it will stay open. You have a room full of people out there expecting a Marcello Farina dining experience. Chef put his blood, sweat and tears into this restaurant. I’m not going to let you ruin that. I practically grew up in this kitchen, and I’m happy to stay and help. Now, where is your sous-chef?”

“Yes, where is Gianni?” the hostess asked the room.

“He’s on break in the cellar,” someone shouted.

“I’ll get him,” the hostess said, turning to leave. Dani stopped her.

“No, I’ll get him. I know where it is.” Dani had taken many breaks herself in the basement pantry. “You go out there and keep our guests happy.”

The hostess gave Dani a wary look, then walked through the double doors.

“Start two new fillets and put a steak on the fly. I’ll be right back.”

Dani marched down the short hallway to the fridge, her mind racing with how to explain who she was and what happened to Marcello. She hoped the sous-chef could handle taking over the kitchen for a night. Or several nights if needed.

The cool air of the cellar was like a balm on her skin and she surveyed the frigid cuts of meat as she found her way around the shelving to the back.

“Ciao? Hello?” she called out. “Gianni? Oh, scusa,” she apologized; startled when she found him bent over a rack. At first she thought he was gathering food, and then she saw the thin white line spread on the shelf and noticed the same powder dusted on his black coat.

He pinched his nose and looked at her quizzically. “Scusami. Are you lost?”

Dani blinked, trying to keep a lid on her emotions. If this were her kitchen, he’d be fired. And she doubted Marcello knew about this man’s habits or he wouldn’t be wearing that coke-dusted jacket.

But she didn’t have time for morals and ethics. What she needed was a chef. Quickly she explained who she was and what happened, with Gianni seeming genuinely concerned. Yet he balked when she asked him to run the kitchen, but then reluctantly agreed.

Gianni sweat bullets as he looked at the backup of orders. An erratic waitress burst into the kitchen needing her meals, her table was becoming belligerent. Then the hostess followed, with more problems.

“The key to the wine cellar is missing. I think Wendall had it.” Dani knew that was where they kept the most expensive wines. What a disaster.

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