Julie Hyzy - Eggsecutive Orders

I was glad to find Craig in his office. As much as I didn’t want to talk with him directly, I knew I had to. I waited in the anteroom for his assistant to announce me, and was shown in at once.

“Do you have a minute?” I asked.

Craig would be so much more handsome if he smiled once in a while. He had been writing longhand when I walked in, and he was slow to pull his attention from the paper before him. Slower still, was the drawl in his question. “What can I do for you, Ms. Paras?”

I pasted on a cheerful face. “Two things.”

His eyebrows arched and he placed his pen on the blotter, carefully arranging it exactly parallel to the blotter’s edge. “You may proceed.”

“First, I need to arrange to have the eggs delivered to the kitchen. Our Egg Board liaison has our supply ready. I just need the Secret Service to coordinate with her.”

He nodded, pulled out a fresh sheet of paper, and wrote on it. “Specifics?”

I provided Brandy’s name, phone, e-mail, and the location of the eggs. He recorded it all.

“Consider it done,” he said. “And second?”

This was the hard part. “It’s about Agent MacKenzie.”

His expression utterly neutral, he blinked slowly, waiting for me to continue.

“You need to be aware that Agent MacKenzie and I…” I faltered. Biting my lip, I tried again. “There is no need for you to…”

Again, the slow blinking. “Ms. Paras, exactly what are you trying to communicate about one of my agents? Are you reporting improper behavior on his part?”

“No!” If it were anyone but Craig, I might think he was trying to make a joke. But this guy was all serious, all the time. My voice naturally rose, but I struggled to lower it, cognizant of others in the anteroom. I stepped closer and spoke quietly. “Tom and I broke up, okay?” When there was no reaction on his part, I clarified. “We are no longer in a relationship. You got your wish.”

His brow creased. “And you are telling me this, why?”

He knew exactly why, but I took another step closer to his desk. “You can no longer hold Agent MacKenzie responsible for my behavior,” I said. And then I said the words that hurt most of all. “He is no longer part of my life.”

I didn’t wait for Craig to respond. I turned and hurried out the door and didn’t stop walking until I was safely back in the haven of the kitchen.

“You okay?” Cyan asked.

I nodded. “ Mission accomplished.”

She and Henry wore expressions that said they didn’t believe me, but we had so much work ahead that neither of them pressed me for more.

“HERE COMES TROUBLE,” CYAN WHISPERED.

In the midst of chopping chives, I looked up.

“And this is the kitchen staff,” Sargeant said, sweeping his arm forward to encompass all of us. “Although I confess I’m stymied as to why you wished to visit this part of the residence. Are you, perhaps, an aspiring chef?”

Standing a head taller than Sargeant, Kap halted in the doorway before entering. He ignored Sargeant’s question and addressed me. “I hope I’m not interrupting you, Ollie.”

“No, not at all.” I wiped my hands on my apron and stepped forward.

Nonplussed, Sargeant attempted to regain control of the conversation. He glared at me. “I wasn’t aware you and Mr. Kapostoulos were acquainted.”

I opened my mouth to form a vague reply when Kap said, “Ms. Paras and I have friends in common.” Kap looked at me. “Good friends, wouldn’t you say?”

Well, wasn’t that a little presumptuous. “Yes,” I said, more to annoy Sargeant than agree with Kap, “very good friends.”

Sargeant sniffed. “I have a list of questions for you, Ms. Paras. They came from the president himself. We are very concerned with sensitive food issues that relate to religious observances and belief systems. In fact, when Mr. Kapostoulos expressed his desire to visit the kitchen, the president suggested I accompany him. He believes that this way I can kill two birds with one stone, as it were.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, but Sargeant poking his nose into the kitchen was nothing new. Doing so in the presence of Kap, however, made it odd. “Of course,” I said. “Let’s get started.”

I watched Henry and Kap size each other up. They were about the same height, about the same age. Henry resembled a kindly uncle, while Kap could have graced a senior edition of GQ . Henry offered to show Kap around, but our visitor declined and politely suggested Sargeant carry on.

At that, Sargeant opened a portfolio and clicked his pen. Kap’s dark eyes visibly hardened, almost as though the irises had swallowed up the pupils. He fixed his laser gaze firmly on our sensitivity director.

Sargeant asked, “What sort of delicacies do you generally prepare for the president and his guests?”

“There are many,” I said. “That’s a difficult question. Is there something specific you want to know about?”

“No. No.” Sargeant smiled, but I could tell it was just for show. “I just need to clear up these loose ends.” He consulted his notebook. “For instance… have you ever served truffles?” He looked up at me.

“Yes.”

He wrote that down. I got the feeling he was gauging my truthfulness. But why would I lie? “Foie gras?”

“The president doesn’t like it. So, no.”

“Caviar.”

“Yes.”

“Puffer fish.”

“No,” I said, aghast.

He watched me as I answered. “You have never served puffer fish?”

“Of course not. It’s too dangerous.”

With a prim smirk, he nodded and wrote that down.

A moment later, he continued with the questions, finishing off a list of about ten items, most of which we had served at one time or another. But never puffer fish. It wasn’t worth the risk. The skin and organs contained deadly toxins.

I looked up at both of them.

“What is it?” Kap asked.

I lied, “Nothing.”

“You’re sure?”

“I… I have a lot to do for tomorrow. I just thought of something I forgot.”

Sargeant wrinkled his nose as he shut his notebook. “I suppose that will be enough for now. I’m no longer needed here.” He waited, as though hoping we’d correct him. We didn’t.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kapostoulos,” Sargeant said with a little bow. He ignored the rest of us and left the room without looking back.

Kap turned to us. “Who hired that… gentleman?”

Cyan laughed. “We haven’t been able to figure that one out yet.”

Kap smiled at her and at Henry. “Would you mind if I borrowed your boss for a few minutes?”

My heart gave a little thump of disappointment. I didn’t know what he might want to talk about, but it was probably about my mom, and not something I wanted to hear. I steeled myself and followed him out. He led me into the Center Hall. “I don’t want to worry you, Ollie,” he began.

“I’m not worried,” I said. “My mother is a smart, strong lady.”

“She is,” he agreed. “And her daughter takes after her.”

Blatant flattery always made my teeth hurt. I clenched them. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention my visit here.”

That seemed like a peculiar request. “Your visit to the kitchen?”

“My visit to the White House.”

“Who would I tell?”

“Your family?” He shot me with that laser gaze again. “Howard Liss?”

“What?” I laughed my disbelief. “Why do you think I would have anything to do with that repulsive-”

“He hasn’t contacted you?”

The question shut me up. “How did you know that?” I asked. “What kind of consultant are you, anyway?”