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“Little display?” I ask incredulously. My eyes shoot across from where the chef is now being guided towards us, to take in her crossed arms and stiff expression. “Miss Martin, you forget yourself.”
“I don’t think I do,” she replies, and beside her, Asili begins to wail. I bring a hand up to rub lightly at the bridge of my nose. Not only am I being forced to attend some infant’s fifth birthday celebration today, but I cannot even begin my day in peace.
“Asili, hush,” I say without much hope, even as my fingers remain against my forehead. He only cries louder.
“I’m hungry! I want my militvi bar! I don’t wanna go to stupid Stynava’s stupid party. She hates me!”
“You requested to see me, sir?” The Ak’tek chef stops before me, his six long orange arms clasped together as he speaks to me in the slightly clicking rasp of his people, while beside him Asili draws his feet up to push against the side of the table in his fury.
“Yes,” I say calmly, dropping my fingers to look at the unmoving exoskeleton of my chef’s face. “I want to know why you think it acceptable to serve me sub-quality food.”
His slender hands shift against each other, and his small dark eyes flick briefly around as Asili thumps his foot against the table in defiance of whatever Analina is telling him.
“Sir,” the Ak’tek says carefully, “I…”
“Do you not think I am worthy of your highest quality of work everyday?”
“I don’t care! I hope I never see you again for the rest of the day!” Asili jumps out of his chair and runs from the room, slamming the door behind him with all the effort his small body can muster.
“If you would like to assassinate me,” I continue to the Ak’tek without affect, “there are less cruel ways than to poison me slowly with the gruel you’ve been sending my way.”
The row of gill-like plates along the chef’s neck raise suddenly in an aggressive flick, but he shows no other outward response and seems to lay them flat again with a force of effort.
“If you will not take your role here seriously, Ak’tek, then I no longer have need of your—”
“Vahadr!” Analina’s chair clatters back as she surges suddenly to her feet. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence!”
It takes me a moment to fully absorb what she’s just said to me, and she takes that moment to turn to the chef.
“Thank you, breakfast looked perfect,” she says in direct contradiction to my words. “Is there anything else you could prepare, something simple and easy that wasn’t on the trays? If so, please just send out three bowls of whatever you’d like, we’d really appreciate that.”
The Ak’tek makes a faint click in the back of his throat and bows towards her slightly in assent. “Of course.”
“Everybody,” I say quietly, “get out.”
Although my orders are always obeyed, it is seldom that I’ve seen my staff move quite so quickly. I turn my gaze slowly towards Analina as the room empties, and I find myself unsure what to think as she stands before me in all her defiance, instinctively knowing that I did not mean for her to leave too.
“You have just interrupted me in the middle of an order,” I tell her calmly once the room is cleared. “You have spoken for me, and issued me an order on top of that. You have undermined me in front of my staff. And you have called me by my name, familiarly, as if scolding an infant.”
She takes a breath and crosses her arms. “Yes,” she says, looking entirely unafraid. “You deserved it.”
I tilt my head to the side, and I’m still unsure what the quiet curl in my stomach means. “I did, did I?”
“You were about to fire that poor guy, weren’t you.” It’s not even a question.
“Of course.”
“Then I should have called you a jerk in front of everyone, too,” she huffs. “That man’s food was impeccable, and you wanted to fire him just because you were having a crappy morning? He did nothing wrong, and you were going to take his wage away!”
I stare at her, at the attractive flush in her cheeks and the way the dark messy bun she likes to wear in the mornings always drips with loose curls that caress her jaw and neck. I think the emotion coursing through me might be wonder. Does she really have no fear of me at all?
“You can’t treat people like this! Just because someone works for you doesn’t mean they’re not a person anymore, that they’re not worth your respect or your appreciation!”
I respect and appreciate you, I think, but the words don’t quite leave my mouth.
“I think you’re a good man, Mr. Tzelik, but sometimes…sometimes you can be such an ass.”
“Come here,” I say, and I don’t mean to, but my eyes dip briefly down along her body.
