Page 110 of Aftertaste

By some miracle, news about the disaster at DUH hadn’t reached him yet.

“You know I wouldn’t ask if I had any other choice.”

“Are you planning something illegal?”

“There’s nothing illegal about cold storage,” Kostya said evenly. “I’m just trying to keep something important on ice.”

“What’s your max time out?” Michel asked, businesslike, no doubt trying to guess what Konstantin was storing.

“Four hours. Five, tops,” Kostya lied. “Please,” he begged, “it won’t fit in mine.”

“And I don’t get to know what it is?”

“Plausible deniability.”

“Because you’re doing something illegal.”

“Because… in case.”

Michel was quiet on the line. And just as Kostya grew sure he would say no, gloat, deliver a lecture on the importance of bridges, of loyalty, of hard work, he said this instead:

“Okay.”

“Seriously?”

He could hear Michel smile. “You’re one of us now. Exec at a buzzy New York restaurant. It’s a small, lecherous little club, but we stick together. Heavy is the crown.”

“Well, shit. Thank you.”

“Just tell me one thing. The ghosts you claim to serve, those spiritual reunions—is it all true?”

The question surprised him. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re a terrible liar, so it must be.” He cleared his throat. “Maybe you can fit me in for a seat one night. At your house.”

Kostya’s eyes watered. This was everything he’d searched for in the kitchen—a connection, a way to help—coming too late.

“Anytime,” he choked out, knowing he might never keep that promise. “It would be an honor, Chef.”

Michel exhaled into the phone.

“Service door’s unlocked. Anyone asks, you let yourself in. Don’t do anything stupid.”

YUME KUTSUKI TOOKmore convincing.

“I can’t,” she said flat out. “I’ll lose my license.”

“Yume,please. It’ll never get back to you.”

“And when someone shows up dead? When your knife slips and game over?”

“I’m not serving it! I’m just experimenting. With a new technique.”

“There arerules—a dozen exams you have to take before they let you anywhere near fugu.”

“Which is why I’m coming to you,” he said, then added, shamefully, “You had a feeling, didn’t you? About the Hungry Ghosts? You left the kitchen when I served.”

She didn’t answer.

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