Fed up

You here for dinner?”
    I nodded. “You know I can’t resist Josh’s cooking.” I smiled, partly at the thought of Josh’s feeding me and partly at the sight of the elaborate gel work formed by Wade’s dark hair. Wade’s hair was always a sight to gawk at, if not to admire. Today, he must have taken extra time to sculpt the poofy clumps that sat high off his scalp. Still, since Wade spent as much time working out at the gym as he did styling his hair, I couldn’t complain about how he looked in the fitted black T-shirt that was standard for Simmer employees.
    Wade handed me a menu, and I scanned the familiar items. At one time or another, I must have tried everything on the menu, but I never tired of the food. Besides, in addition to the standard dishes, there were specials that Josh ran a few times a week. They were always wonderful, but tonight I was hungry for two of my favorites from the regular menu, the crab and corn fritters that came with a lemon-cilantro aioli, and a Caesar salad with homemade dressing. Josh’s Caesar dressing was based on egg yolk and anchovies. I could practically drink it by the bucket. He also offered a less fishy—and very popular—version for those who didn’t like the strong anchovy taste, but I preferred the powerful version.
    Wade took my order, brought me a lemonade, and told me that Josh would be out in a few minutes. As I watched Wade shine glasses with a towel, I started wondering what Josh had told his coworkers about the filming yesterday, but my thoughts were interrupted by Gavin Seymour’s unhappy voice.
    Simmer’s owner was glaring angrily at a server. Gavin was in his late thirties, quite handsome, and dressed exclusively in clothing purchased from the high-end shops on this street. His usually toned physique looked neglected, though, and even his overpriced outfit couldn’t hide that. “Now what is it?” Gavin demanded of a quivering young male server. “Can’t we ever get anything done around here without a problem?” Gavin stormed away from the server and beckoned to Wade.
    Before responding to Gavin’s summons, Wade rolled his eyes and imitated Gavin. “Now what is it?” he echoed with an exaggerated whine.
    Although Gavin caught my eye, he otherwise ignored me and, after speaking briefly to Wade, he disappeared into the kitchen.
    I turned away and glanced uncomfortably at Wade, who was again polishing glasses.
    “Don’t worry about Gavin. He’s all worked up tonight. Everyone is trying to stay out of his way today because he’s in such a salty mood. I guess some guy from the Department of Public Health came in to talk to josh.” Wade shrugged.
    If DPH was wandering around Simmer, the staff must know something about the disastrous Chefly Yours episode. “What did he want with Josh?” I asked.
    “I guess to find out more about the food he’d made for the show. I was sorry to hear about that, by the way. Really sucks. Anyhow, Josh told Gavin that the issue had nothing to do with Simmer, but Gavin has been insisting all day that if it has to do with Josh, then it has to do with Simmer. ‘I’m not interested in excuses, Josh,’ is what Gavin must have hollered twenty times.” Wade again mimicked Gavin and waved his hands around in no-no gestures. “Whatever. Gavin will get over it. Everyone is just trying to steer clear of him today.”
    Josh appeared with a plate of the deep-fried corn and crab treats. “Hi, babe,” he said, kissing me on the cheek. Josh looked more worn-out than usual but, as always, he was putting on a happy front for my benefit. Flipping a dish towel over his shoulder, he covered half of a huge food stain on his once-white chef’s coat. “How is Inga?”
    I briefed Josh on the vet visit and explained that Inga would need some serious time with a cat groomer, who, I hoped, would get out the mats in Inga’s coat without shaving her entire body. “She’s had enough humiliation for one lifetime. I couldn’t bear to see her with no fur.”
    “I’m just glad she’s alive and not at the bottom of the Charles,” Josh said. “Oh, guess who called me today?”
    “Who?” I asked through a mouthful of fritter. I loved the fritters, with the crispy batter fried to perfection on the outside and the gooey, creamy crab mixture on the inside. Heaven on a plate.
    “Two calls, actually. Robin and then Leo.”
    I nearly choked. “What did they say?”
    “Well,” he began, perching himself on the stool next to me,