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  3

  The smell of peanut oil wafted through the room. Without thinking, Adonia closed her eyes and let her mind wander to the past.

  She was young, lonely, and had made her way to the state fair by herself. Walking by herself, she wondered why everyone seemed so happy, and why a roller coaster and a giant sized corn dog seemed to make such a great combination. Not that she could ride; she was too small to ride by herself. With her mother gone, her father had fallen into the stupor of self-medication, and young Adonia was left to the care of her grandmother, who toiled every day in the upkeep of her bakery, years past the age most of her peers had retired.

  Adonia longed for one of the fried treats that her grandmother would have scolded her for so much as touching. If it wasn't Greek, and it wasn't homemade, Yaya called it skoupídia: "American filth, not suitable for the palate." But Adonia wanted it anyway. She counted the change in her pocket, but came up short of the price on the sign. Disheartened, she gave the fried treat one last stare before turning her back.

  "Hey, kid!" A woman's deep, melodious voice turned her around, curious. The woman climbed out of the truck carrying a deep fried corn dog almost as long as her arm wrapped in a piece of wax paper. "How much do you have?"

  Adonia's frown wobbled on the edge of a sob. "I only have a dollar and forty-five cents."

  The woman held out both hands. With one, she offered the dog, and the other was cupped to receive her change. Adonia stared at her for a long moment, then made the trade. The woman's face lit up to her shorn hair.

  "I hate to see a kid looking like that," the woman said, and tousled Adonia's thick curls in a way that she had only seen done to boys. The woman stood up straight and pushed the change into her jeans pocket. "We'll call it square if you promise to do something nice for someone else today."

  Adonia nodded, open mouthed, and watched as the woman climbed back into the food truck. She had never seen anyone like her: a woman without any of the feminine touches of dress, makeup, hair styling, or jewelry that most of the women Adonia knew spent their life worrying about.

  To Adonia, it was as if the woman were daring society to call her female.

  Something inside her head clicked as she chewed on the corn dog, which really didn't taste as good as she thought it would, and watched the woman work. Every so often, the enigma would grin and wave down at her while she slung the fair food to people from the town who would likely be talking scathingly about her later behind their devotionals. Adonia waved back with one mustard-smeared hand.

  When the corn dog was gone, she tossed the trash into one of the large plastic trash cans, took one last hard look at the woman, and turned on her heel to leave with something in her changed subtly, so subtly that it was hard to pinpoint, but so profoundly that the course of the rest of her life was shifted forever.

  "Are you listening to me?"

  Adonia snapped to attention, her face pink with embarrassment. She turned her eyes to Leah, who waited with one hand out expectantly. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

  Leah grinned. She had lost her hurt look somewhere about the time they were cleaning up their tables at the event room and Dame O'Brien started barking at them that they were a disappointment. "Where did you go?"

  "Twenty years ago," Adonia answered, and handed over the bowl of batter in her white-knuckled grip. "Sorry. The smell of peanut oil always takes me there."

  Leah dipped dried pickle coins in batter and put them into the waiting oil. They sizzled and popped, and Adonia sucked in a deep breath. Leah shot her a sideways glance and grinned. "What was twenty years ago that you can remember so vividly?"

  Adonia minced chives and stared down at her cutting board. When she had finished, she dumped them into the waiting mixing bowl, and started mincing fresh dill. "Childhood."

  She scraped the dill into the bowl, pushed the cutting board and knife out of the way, and started dumping the other spices into the mix. She whisked the dry ingredients with the wet quickly, then poured the dip into the individual serving dishes and gave them each a twist of fresh ground salt and pepper before covering them with plastic tops and arranging them one by one on a travel tray.

  "Was childhood good or bad?" Leah asked as she scooped fried pickles from the oil. She waited in silence until she had the fresh dipped pickles in the oil, then turned to Adonia and grabbed her arm. Adonia stopped and looked at her, lips pursed into a stubborn frown. "I guess that means it was bad," she said softly.

  Adonia sighed and took back her arm. "It wasn't bad, it just was. My parents weren't there for me for their own reasons. I was raised by my Greek Orthodox grandmother in one of those Southern Baptist towns known best for using blessings as curses."

  "What?" Leah asked.

  Adonia made the simpering face all her schoolmates' mothers wore when they spoke to her. "Well, bless your heart, you little heathen," she said in a saccharine voice, then let the face drop.

  As the peanut oil sizzled, Leah gaped at Adonia's frowning face. "That sounds terrible, and I'm sorry I brought it up. I had no idea."

  "How could you?" Adonia asked, then started cleaning up her work space to plate the fried pickles. "And anyway, it's not like it's a big deal. A lot of kids go through that sort of thing."

  "Not a lot of kids lose their parents and are raised by someone else in an unwelcoming place."

  Adonia grabbed a serving plate and arranged pickles around the little dish of dip. She wrapped it in plastic, then moved on to the next plate. She worked more quickly than Leah could fry, and soon was out of things to keep her hands busy. She washed them in the nearby sink, then came back to stand beside Leah, crossing her arms over her chest.

  "Was your childhood a happy one?" she asked to get the conversation off of her.

  Leah snorted, spooning pickles out of the oil and onto paper to drain. "My childhood was okay. Adolescence was hell."

  "See?" Adonia said, plating pickles again. "Life is shit all over."

  Leah opened her mouth to speak, but clamped it shut again as Dame O'Brien walked past, looking down at their progress. Adonia nodded and the old woman nodded back. Leah gave her a tight smile that wasn't returned. When she had moved out of earshot, Leah turned to Adonia with bug eyes.

  "Are we supposed to be talking?" Her shoulders slumped. "I've been here for months, and I haven't found anyone to talk to until you. I don't know if it's against her crazy rules to talk while we cook or not."

  Adonia grinned. "No, it's not against the rules, as long as you keep working. I know, because I read the whole rule book when I signed on last month." She glanced at the groups on either side of them, then back at their dish. "And we're making good time."

  "I think she hates me."

  Adonia shook her head. "I don't think she hates you in particular. She hates us all. Maybe all humans. Maybe everything that lives."

  Leah smiled as she pulled the last of the pickles from the peanut oil, then killed the fire and pulled the pot off the burner to cool. She walked to the sink to wait in line to wash her hands, and Adonia turned her head just slightly to admire her. She dropped her eyes back to her plating when Leah turned around to come back.

  "What's next?" Leah asked a few seconds later, wiping the water from her hands on her apron. "I'm ready to do this."

  4

  Dame O'Brien stared out at her employees through the slits of her bright, needle-sharp eyes as she paced the length of the industrial kitchen then back again. The clip-clop of her high heeled boots jarred them all with each stride. They had stared back at her for ten minutes, but she had yet to speak a single word. It was something she was wont to do only occasionally and with great effect.

  Leah glanced at Adonia as she made her way in late and stood at the back of the room. She wanted to raise her hand to gesture her partner over, but didn't dare for fear that Dame O'Brien would single her out.

  "Do you understand," the old woman said, and startled the room, "the magnitude of
that which is our charge?"

  Leah slipped between seated students, all women, and sidled up to Adonia just as Dame O'Brien looked their way. Leah blushed and looked at her feet. Adonia just stared back, and for a second, Leah thought she saw the hint of a smile.

  "Ms. Clement has choices. By virtue of her wealth and fame, she can have anyone she wants." She continued her slow march back and forth. Her eyes darted from face to face, and Adonia had the idea that she looked kind of like a dictator, a frail female Hitler rallying her soldiers. She stifled a chuckle.

  "She's so picky," said one girl close to the front. Her hand came to her mouth so quickly, it burst her lip.

  Dame O'Brien stopped mid-stride and moved to stand in front of the girl. "Get up."

  The young woman's face was as crimson as the splotch of blood on her teeth as she stood. All gathered readied themselves for a screaming rant.

  "Valerie, you're precisely right." Faces jerked to attention, all eyes on the old woman. "She is picky. She only wants the best of meals for the guests at her events." She flicked a finger, and the girl poured herself back into her seat like a melting candle. "She has chosen this company, my company, to perform that feat. She wants perfection. She wants it fast. And she wants it every single time."

  Leah stole a glance at Adonia. She rested against the counter top to her right, one leg crossed over the other at the ankle, her weight leaned on one forearm. Her eyes in the shadow of her heavy brows looked contemplative, and sexy. A low boil started in Leah's pelvis and she clenched her hands at her sides to steady herself.

  "If you think last night was difficult, then you need to leave this tour." Dame O'Brien's eyes punctuated each word with a stare at each young woman. When her eyes met Adonia's, she kept them there. "But if you think you have the constitution to see this through, then you might make it in the culinary world."

  Adonia's eyes never faltered. Leah watched her shift, almost imperceptibly, to more of a standing position, and Leah mirrored her, straightening her back.

  "Does anyone need to make arrangements to leave?"

  A pasty girl with untidy red ringlets and acne raised her hand and shuffled off the stool on which she had haphazardly perched. Dame O'Brien nodded with puckered lips, and the girl scrambled out of the room, her shoes squeaking on the glimmering tile.

  "If no one else has any problems, I would like to discuss the menu for this week." She turned and scribbled on the white board behind her. "This menu, of course, is subject to change." She steadily wrote down dish names as she spoke, covering the board in a matter of minutes.

  When she had finished, she capped her marker and turned to her crew. "I'll need four of you to find and purchase these ingredients." Several girls raised their hands, eager to shop, to please, or to get away, Leah couldn't put her finger on which. Dame O'Brien selected two, then turned her eyes one after the other to the spots where Adonia and Leah stood. "And you two." Leah sucked in a breath, but Adonia nodded resolutely. Dame O'Brien turned back to the crew. "The rest of you need to start setting up stations for our first meal tonight."

  "Ugh," Leah said under her breath. Dame O'Brien barely turned to her with a wisp of a smile.

  "Go, my little worker bees, and make some magic."

  Leah and Adonia went to the front of the room and collected their lists. Adonia glanced over hers, worried her lip over, and motioned with her head for Leah to follow her to the lot where the company cars sat in wait.

  "You need to stay together for this one," Dame O'Brien called as they walked.

  Adonia stopped and turned around in an almost military-style about-face. Leah matched her as Adonia said, "Dame, there are over two hundred items on my list alone."

  The old woman nodded. "And on each of the others. But it won't do to have you all wandering lost."

  "I think I can manage."

  Dame O'Brien's nostrils flared. "Very well. If you haven't found all the items on your list and returned here by two o'clock, you're on the next bus home."

  Adonia pulled Leah out the door. "We have to get it in gear," she said. "I just put us both on the chopping block."

  Leah smiled as they stepped up to the elevator. "At least we won't have to babysit the others."

  "No, you won't have to babysit us," a voice answered from behind them.

  Leah and Adonia turned around to face the snotty, offended women.

  "I'm sorry," Leah started, but the blonde in front of her held up a hand.

  "You will be sorry when we beat you back here. We're going to mop the floor with you dykes, and in case you have any ideas, Dame O'Brien is straight. We won't have to worry about you screwing up our chances by banging the boss."

  Adonia snorted. "In your dreams, Alice."

  The woman made a face. "My name isn't Alice."

  Adonia stepped into the elevator after Leah, then turned to face the two women left in the foyer. "Then I guess you're not in Wonderland anymore. This is war, bitch." The elevator doors closed in their outraged faces.

  "What just happened?" Leah said through a belly laugh.

  Adonia held up her arms in an exaggeratedly smug gesture. "I tried to be diplomatic, but they wanted to be mean girls, so I schooled them on how it's really done."

  "You are just full of surprises," Leah said, straightening up on her feet as they reached the ground floor. She cleared her throat. "Let's hope we can beat them."

  Adonia grinned and let Leah exit the elevator first. "We can. My older brother lives here; I know this place. Piece of cake."

  They were over halfway through their combined list when they stumbled over the mean girls frantically gathering the tomatoes they had knocked to the floor in the middle of the grocery store. Instead of moving past, Adonia stopped and parked their basket off to the side. She stooped to the floor and held up a tomato to Leah.

  "What's this for?" Leah asked. They didn't need regular hothouse tomatoes. She checked the list again, but took the tomato from Adonia's hand anyway.

  "What are you doing?" the girl Adonia had dubbed Alice asked at almost the same time.

  Adonia didn't turn her eyes from her work. "Helping you. Shut up and let's get this over with, before I change my mind."

  The girl inspected her passive face for a moment, suspicious, then went back to work handing tomatoes to her own partner. Leah shrugged and started piling the tomatoes Adonia handed up onto the display shelf one by one. It was all done in less than five minutes. Adonia and Alice stood, and Leah watched as Adonia held out a hand.

  "We don't have to make this a competition."

  Alice inspected the hand, but stuck her hands in her back pockets and put on her best sour face. Adonia dropped her hand, and Leah saw a muscle twitch in her jaw.

  "The nature of the job is competition. Dame O'Brien only wants the best, and I don't need your charity," Alice said.

  "Suit yourself," Adonia said, and went back to her shopping cart. When she was just past Alice, she leaned in to whisper something in the woman's ear. Alice gasped, and Adonia knocked into her with one hip. Alice fell into the tomato display and sent a dozen skittering across the floor.

  "Bitch," Alice said.

  "You'd better start cleaning up," Adonia said as she motioned Leah to walk away with her. "That guy looks pissed."

  As they walked away, a pimply-faced man in a manager's polo shirt went after Alice, and Leah stared at Adonia. She picked two bags of vegetables from their list before she looked up and met Leah's eyes. "What?"

  "What did you say to her?"

  "I told her that she wasn't pretty enough to pull off her ugly attitude, and she should probably work on dislodging the stick from her colon."

  Leah laughed, and the two moved on to the meat department. Between them, they chose several beautiful halibut, fresh caught the day before, for the night's meal. They were debating over a particularly snappy lobster when Alice and her shadow brushed past. Alice bumped against Adonia, but the Greek woman's
firm stance and muscular build was too solid, and she ended up with a sore shoulder she rubbed with one hand for her trouble. Adonia gave her a smile, her eyes full of laughter, before turning back to the tank.

  5

  Leah whisked cornstarch and water together in a metal bowl, her eyes locked on the swirling golden brown liquid in the giant simmering pot before her. She realized she wasn't breathing, sucked in a gulp of air, and then let it out with a shudder. Adonia had been talking to Dame O'Brien for over an hour.

  Some part of her was relieved, and as she poured the mix slowly into the swirling liquid, she wondered if maybe it was for the best. Adonia was amazing; her force of will was something Leah had never seen in a woman. But she was trouble, and the last thing Leah needed on her first big assignment since she graduated from culinary school was someone holding her back. She doubted her abilities enough without the extra worry.

  She dropped the empty bowl into hot, soapy water and scrubbed the last of the cornstarch mix out of it. When she turned back to the stove, Adonia was chopping with fervor. Leah rushed to her side, glanced around for eavesdroppers, then leaned in.

  "What did she say?"

  Adonia chopped an onion with a ferocity that worried Leah. Had her partner not been smiling, Leah would have assumed her fired. She dumped the onions into a bowl, then started chopping celery.

  "Adonia, talk to me."

  She wiped a drop of sweat from her brow with the sleeve of her shirt, then continued chopping. "She said she's going to fire me if this doesn't go over well," she said, then dumped the celery into a bowl. She grabbed a bunch of carrots and began to peel them, her hands moving too fast to be completely effective.

  "Oh, no."

  Adonia grinned at her through bared teeth, and wiped off another few beads of sweat. "It isn't like this is the first time she's threatened to fire me since I started." She pushed away the peels and started slicing the carrots lengthwise with a gleaming knife. "And she's not going to fire me, because I won't give her a reason. That idiot Betheny Clement is going to love my recipe more than the atrocity she asked me to make."