Steamed

up to you so much, I’m sure it would mean a lot to him to get your approval.”
    “I can’t do that, Chloe. It doesn’t work that way. I’m not doing his dishes if they aren’t up to snuff. No one gave me any breaks, and it made me better,” Josh said heatedly. “Do you know, when I had my first job in a kitchen, I used to have a guy pace behind me while I cooked. He’d jab a steak knife into the back of my thigh if I wasn’t moving fast enough. I’d stand on the goddamn line with blood dripping down my leg, cooking and sweating and working my ass off with this guy watching every move I made. So, no,” he shook his head. “I’m not cutting Brian any slack.”
    Josh was riled up now, and I couldn’t blame him. “Did you report the guy to your boss? That’s sadistic! Sticking you with a knife!”
    He laughed. “Chloe, he was my boss. And you don’t leave one of the top restaurants in Boston because you don’t like it. You suck it up and get through your training and put it on your résumé.”
    I was about ready to beat Josh’s old boss to a bloody pulp for knifing my beau, but I’d probably be kicked out of school for acting in an unprofessional manner. That stupid Social Work Code of Ethics and I were already beginning to clash. Cassie’s arrival with our entrées temporarily cooled off our discussion, but I still wasn’t done with the topic.
    “Just because you had some asshole treating you like you were going through a fraternity hazing doesn’t make it right. And it doesn’t mean you have to treat Brian the same way. I mean, I know you don’t stick him with a knife while he’s cooking, but maybe you should ease up on him a bit. Positive feedback is a good motivator, too, don’t you think?”
    My chef smiled at me. “I see your point. You and I are different, I guess. You’d do the right thing.”
    “You know more about running a kitchen than I do, obviously. And as I’ve learned in my Diversity class readings, different groups have their own rules of behavior and their own cultural norms, and to thrive in a subculture, one must abide by those social laws.” I better get an A on my midterm.
    We worked our way through two more courses of pleasant but not outstanding food. Josh, however, grew more and more disgruntled with every bite. “This food is ridiculous,” he complained. “Now is the time that they should be putting everything they have into the menu. Serving this crap isn’t going to keep them afloat.” Josh excused himself to talk to Garrett and quickly returned with more bad news. “Garrett is thinking about leaving.”
    “Really?”
    “Yup. That’s probably the main reason the menu sucks— Garrett doesn’t care anymore. This place is about to crash and burn in a few weeks. If he leaves, I can’t imagine Tim could stay open much longer. It’d be hard to find a chef to come into this place now, especially with the financial constraints Tim is obviously dealing with. Speaking of which, I wonder why he’s not here now?”
    “Maybe he doesn’t want to sit around and see how slow it is,” I suggested. “It’s got to be upsetting.”
    Cassie appeared at the table in time to hear our last exchange. “Actually, he’s out with Madeline right now coming up with schemes to bring some life back into this place. No pun intended. I don’t know what she thinks she can come up with that Tim isn’t doing on his own. So, listen, food is on the house, of course. You two want any coffee or anything?”
    Essence was starting to depress me, so I shook my head at Josh, and we got ready to leave. Josh left a twenty-five-dollar tip for Cassie, who tried to push his money away. He wouldn’t take it back. “With business the way it is,” he insisted, “you need it.”
    Josh and I settled into his Xterra. He sighed. “You know what? I’d rather have good competition than have Essence doing so badly.”
    It was just what Madeline had said on her TV interview: that Magellan needed worthy competition to show how truly great it was.
    Josh took me home and dropped me off. Dinner at Essence had left us both in foul moods.
    “Babe, I’m sorry,” Josh apologized as he hugged me good-bye. “I’m grumpy, and I just need to go home.”
    “Sure. I understand,” I assured him.
    The food business was losing the aura of glamour I’d envisioned while watching the Food Network, poring over issues of Gourmet , and scouring ethnic stores for exotic ingredients. Before meeting Josh,