“Two weeks. I’ll handle everything. I’ll serve at one. If anyone is late you will start without them. I want to have the food served promptly fo... maximum effect and flavor. I’ll talk to Mrs. Wilmington so I can have access to the kitchen on Saturday night for the prep work. Goodbye.”I looked at the phone after she disconnected. Bit of a temper on that one. Then again, all chefs seemed a little flighty, to me.I got one more call the next week. “Any of your group Jewish? Or Muslim? If they are. He watched her tousled blonde hair, not yet combed, fall around her shoulders, as she piled the washing into a yellow basket. She bent down, facing him and her breasts jiggled freely, visible over the top of her loose-fitting vest.She looked up and followed his gaze.“Is breakfast with podívaná, Ben?” she said, giggling naughtily. “Hmmm?” “Breakfast with a peepshow!” she translated. You will get me fired!” She picked up the basket, chuckling to herself and carried it out into the garden, leaving. More

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