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“This is our chef, Sadie Ware,” the dean said. “Sadie, this is a very prestigious alumnus of Tides Academy, Mr. Mikhail Turgenev.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Turgenev,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “What can I do for you?”
“The pleasure’s mine, Ms. Ware,” I said. “Lunch was excellent today. The dean and I both enjoyed it.”
She flushed a little. “That’s wonderful to hear. Thank you.”
“I’m excited to see what comes out of your kitchen next,” I said. “Especially with the ideas your dean has about improving your access to resources. Isn’t that right?”
The dean nodded eagerly. “Oh, yes. In fact, I’d like to get started on prioritizing that. If you’ll both excuse me …”
“As entertaining as that all was, what are you really doing here, Misha?” Sadie asked, watching the dean leave the dining hall.
“I’m not good at waiting.”
“I can see that.”
“And I shouldn’t have let you out of my sight without setting the date for the next time I’d see you.”
She sighed and shook her head at me. “You’re impossible. I told you ‘soon.’”
“Tonight.”
“I can’t. I have the kids. My mom has been watching them all day.”
I mulled that over for a moment before nodding. “Okay. Tonight will be fine.”
“Misha, I just told you that tonight wasn’t good.”
“It’ll be fine. You’ll be at home. I’ll go there. I’m going to schedule Mamachka for a stay in a hotel tonight. One with lots of spa packages. What do you think? She deserves that, doesn’t she?”
Sadie fought a smile and lost. “You’re unbelievable. But yes. She does deserve to be pampered.”
“I’ll see you at six, then.”
“I won’t get out of here until eight, Misha.”
“No. You keep long hours here — too long. You’re giving away your time for free. You’ll leave here at a much more acceptable hour. You’ll trust your sous chef with more responsibility. And when the dean decides it’s time to invest more in dining services at Tides, you’ll have even more staff to help you.”
She wrinkled her nose at me. “What do you mean — ‘when’ he decides?”
“I imagine you’ll hear about it in a week or so. I’ve lit a fire beneath him.”
“You are impossible,” she said, but she was grinning helplessly now. “I have to go, but we aren’t done discussing what you’ve done.”
“We can pick this conversation back up at six. Your place.”
She laughed as she returned to the kitchen. I watched her go. I didn’t mind it when I knew that she’d be returning to me.
