Zoe wrenched the restaurant door open and ran back to their table. She scrambled past chairs, tripping over them in her haste, bumping tables decorated with fresh flowers, knocking their vases over. She could hear Levi right on her heels.
She was panting by the time she got to the private back room. Addison and Felix turned to her, surprised by her sudden appearance, but her focus was on Piper. Chocolate being her comfort food during times of stress or joy or boredom or any time for that matter, Piper was reaching for one of the sesame balls.
As she brought it to her mouth, Zoe screamed “No! Grab that ball!”
Zoe leapt across the table, slapping it out of Piper’s hand. The chocolate ball flew across the room, bouncing off Holly’s cheek, and landed in someone’s water glass.
Dishes slid off the table, busting apart as they hit the floor. Marilyn screamed in fright. Felix spun Naia away to safety. Bob stood at the ready, unsure of who to protect. Piper gasped.
When everything settled, and the dishes finally stopped crashing, and people stopped yelling, the moment seemed to freeze like some bizarre tableau from a comedy sketch, because no one seemed to know what to do.
Piper stood frozen, her mouth hanging open. Zoe just stared back from her sprawled position across the tabletop, trying to catch her breath. She could feel soup soak through her dress.
Levi was the first to speak. “I feel like you just don’t get this whole ball-grabbing concept. You’ve still got the wrong balls.”
Naia giggled in her dad’s arms. Holly started to take photos with her phone, snapping them off from different angles in the room until Addison grabbed it. Drawing her arm back, she tossed it clear across the room.
“Have you lost your mind?” Piper finally asked Zoe. She looked furious. She began to dab at the spray of tomato basil soup across her front.
“Sesame seeds”—Zoe gasped—“in … balls.” She slumped onto the table
Piper’s glare shifted to the chocolate ball floating in the water glass. The black powder that had coated the ball floated on the water’s surface. After a moment, the furrow lines on her forehead relaxed and she gaped at it like it personally tried to kill her.
“Oh, God,” she said. “How—”
“Levi had one,” Zoe explained. “He told me outside that it had sesame seeds in it.”
Aiden frowned, automatically reaching out for Piper. “Are you okay? Did you bite into it at all?”
“No. No. I’m fine.” She rubbed her fingers off on the front of her dress as though there might be remnants on them.
Zoe inched her way off the table, trying to do as little damage as possible, or at least no more than what she’d already done.
Levi helped her off the table to prevent it from tipping over. When she stood up, all manner of desserts and drinks dripped down the front of her dress.
“Wow,” he said. “You really must hate sesame seeds.”
“She’s highly allergic,” Zoe told him as she tried to wipe herself off with a napkin. “Like anaphylactic allergic.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I gathered that,” he said with an ironic twist to his smile.
“Piper Summers,” Holly said in her reporter-like voice. She marched over, holding her phone up to record Piper—with a newly cracked screen, Zoe noted. “Your wedding planner, has dropped the bouquet at every turn of planning your upcoming nuptials to rich CEO, and ridiculously fit, Aiden Caldwell. Is it time to look for a new planner?”
Piper stared the phone down. “Not a chance. I couldn’t do it without her. I wouldn’t.” And Piper’s expression looked so sincere, so earnest, that Zoe’s arms were suddenly wrapped around her friend.
“Thanks,” she said. “I needed to hear that.” And it seemed she’d needed a hug too, because she lingered in Piper’s embrace a moment longer, transferring remnants of brunch onto her friend’s outfit.
“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” Piper said.
“I’m sorry too.” When Zoe pulled away, she glared at the metal doors to the kitchen. “I specifically told the chef no sesame seeds. He knew you had a severe allergy. This is inexcusable.” Her fists balled at her sides as she became more worked up, as the reality of what just about happened hit her. “Excuse me while I go have a few words with the chef.”
As she turned for the kitchen, she nearly ran into Holly. The reporter stuck the phone in her face, but she pushed her away.
“You, don’t go anywhere,” Zoe told her. “I’ll deal with you in a minute.”
Holly gaped. “Me? What did I do? I’m just doing my job.”
Zoe turned away from the reporter in disgust and started for the kitchen doors, but the server cut her off.
“Excuse me, but it’s staff only in the kitchen. You can’t go back there.”
Zoe unleashed the force of her eyebrow on the girl. With a quirk and a twitch, the server backed off as though Zoe had physically, pushed past her.
Zoe swept the stainless-steel door aside and blew into the kitchen like a storm. She certainly felt as thunderous as one. “Chef Glazier?”
How careless. How irresponsible.
This was no small oversight. She’d had to fire caterers before for overcooked vegetables or cold soup, but this mishap wasn’t just going to put a bad taste in someone’s mouth. It had put her friend’s life in danger. It could have killed Piper.
The door swung shut behind her, muting Holly’s screeches as someone clearly tried to forcibly remove her from the restaurant. But as silence fell over the kitchen, there was still no answer from the chef.
She strained her ears, but she heard nothing, no signs of life in the spotless kitchen. No clanging dishes or knife chopping. “Chef Glazier!?”
When she rounded the stainless-steel counter, his station was still a mess, so she knew he couldn’t have gone far. Fresh tomato juice ran across the counter. Yam peels slid under her foot. The knife he’d used for the steak bites was thrown to the side of the cutting board, both still partially covered in streaks of blood.
Maybe he was in the washroom. Or maybe he’d heard all the commotion outside and realized his mistake, then took off to let the servers deal with the customer complaints. Well, Zoe wasn’t going to let him get off that easily.
She spotted a second cutting board covered in the dark cocoa powder used to sprinkle over the chocolate balls, but when she looked closer, she saw it was much darker and chunkier than powder.
Swiping a finger over it, she rubbed the black stuff between her fingers. It was gritty, something finely chopped. She tasted it. Sesame seeds.
He’d chosen a black seed color, which blended into the cocoa powder. No wonder no one had noticed it.
The garbage was full of discarded onion peels, containers, and mushroom stumps. Zoe grabbed a spatula and shifted the garbage aside. Hidden beneath a watermelon rind was a half-used bag of sesame seeds. A small package that one would find in a grocery store aisle.
Did he misplace her prioritized, itemized, color coded list of allergies, preference, and favorites? And just where was he?
“Renowned chef, my ass,” she mumbled.
Zoe headed farther into the back where it looked like deliveries were accepted. On the way, she came across a small room off to the side with the door cracked open. The label said Office.
Well, there’s a start, she thought.
She brought up a fist and banged on the door, but there was no answer. When she tried the handle, it was unlocked. The door creaked open, but she couldn’t find the toque blanche or double-breasted jacket of Chef Glazier.
Searching the room for signs that he was still there—keys, coat, wallet—she spotted the check she’d given him as a deposit months before when she first booked him as the caterer. It was stuck to the wall with a thumbtack. He might have been a good chef, but he was a terrible record keeper.
Reaching out, she ripped it down. She’d rather scramble to find a replacement caterer at the last minute than use his services again. She went to tear it up, but then she thought of something even better. Something that would send a clear message.
As she stomped back to his station, her body still shook with adrenaline, with the close call of seeing her friend succumb to anaphylaxis. And Chef Glazier wasn’t even man enough to own up to his mistake.
She swiped his bloody steak knife off the counter and placed the check on the cutting board with the sesame seed debris. Raising the knife, she stabbed the slip of paper right through the middle.
There, she thought. That message should be clear enough.
Zoe left the kitchen, ready to get out of there. She found the others waiting at the front door.
“Did you find him?” Aiden asked her.
She shook her head. “No. Unfortunately.”
“Well, I think I’ll be having a talk with him when I get to the office tomorrow.” He wrapped a protective arm around Piper as they went to leave. “Or maybe my lawyer will.”
“Don’t worry,” Zoe said. “I’ll be finding a new caterer for the wedding. One that’s even better. It will be perfect. I promise.”
There was that word again, “perfect.” But so far, nothing about this wedding was anything close to it. First the entertainer broke his leg, then the gown was shredded, her décor blown up, and now this. But so far, she’d met every challenge. And she’d meet this one head on too.
Levi held the door open for Zoe, grinning down at her.
She hesitated, suddenly self-conscious. “What?”
“You’re a force to be reckoned with, Zoe Plum. First, you dive across a restaurant like a superhero and save your friend. Next, you storm into the back and give the chef a piece of your mind. One would almost say that you’re close to finding those balls to grab.”
She scraped by him, closer than she needed to in order to walk through the door, rubbing her body against his. “Maybe those balls are closer than I thought.” She smiled at him. Not seductively to match her innuendo, but earnestly.
He must have understood her meaning because his look softened.
Standing so close to him in the open doorway, she suddenly realized that despite their two steamy encounters, they’d never actually kissed. At least, not on the lips.
At first, she hadn’t wanted to. She’d thought it was too romantic, too intimate. But suddenly, she found herself leaning toward him, tilting her face up to meet his.
A smile lit his face and he dipped his head, but just before their lips could touch, they heard a noise nearby.
Squeak … squeak … squeak … squeak.
Exchanging a glance, they looked around. The noise was coming from a white van parked three cars down. Even from there they could read the decal on the side. Channel Five News.
Squeak … squeak … squeak … squeak.
It rocked gently on its wheels, increasing in tempo as they watched, which could mean only one thing.
Zoe snickered. “Do you think…?”
Levi wrinkled his nose. “Holly and the cameraman?”
They stifled their giggles as the noise persisted, changing in rhythm and gusto. Zoe clutched at her stomach as it began to hurt, bracing herself against the restaurant doorframe. Even Bob and Marilyn who were lingering on the sidewalk had noticed.
Marilyn clicked her tongue. “Well, I never.”
The shocked look on Marilyn’s face sent Zoe into a whole new cycle of giggles.
“Help! Help! Someone call the police!”
Footsteps slapped the restaurant floor, growing closer. With a look, Levi and Zoe pulled apart and headed back inside to see what the commotion was. A moment later, the server appeared from the back and skidded to a halt in the waiting room.
“You!” She pointed an accusing finger at Zoe. “You did it, didn’t you?”
Something red dripped from her hand, blood, Zoe realized.
“I did what?” Zoe asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Chef Glazier is dead. And you killed him.”