Accepted under the mentorship of your idol and the world's hottest chef Gordon Ramsay, you must prove your skill and determination through competing in Hell's Kitchen- A month long cooking contest versus fifteen other fierce contestants and difficul...
My eyes dart around the room, looking for Janice. "Where is she?"
Abel nods toward the entrance. "I saw her follow Garrett."
I straighten my jacket, brushing my hands down the front.
"I need to talk to her."
"Are you sure that's the best choice?" Gordon says, looking concerned. In the back of my mind, I consider the fact that we're all wearing mics. But after what Garrett has said, it would make everything more suspicious if we try to have an off-mic discussion.
"Can't get much worse, can it?" I say, clenching my fists and getting ready to bolt for the door.
Gordon pauses. "Then I'm coming with you. It may be her decision, but it's my fucking show."
"I'll stay here and clean up," Abel says. "I didn't get to put my hands on Garrett and I doubt I could resist the temptation if he were anywhere near me."
"We'll be right back," I say to Abel as Gordon turns toward the exit. Taking that as my cue, I rush for the entrance. The cool evening air makes me realize how sweaty I am as I push through the double doors just ahead of Gordon. I see Garrett, two security guards, and Janice standing on the curb by the parking lot.
I have to seem sane, but my mind is running wild with what-ifs. What is he telling her? I speed walk to where the small group is gathered.
"We didn't find a criminal record when he applied," Janice tells the bearded security guard, who's filling out some paperwork while the second security guard holds Garrett's arms behind his back.
"'Cause I don't have a history of attacking women. My dad beat my slut mom the way she deserved. If I can't serve my food, I'll dish out some justice and make my dad proud another way. Know what I mean?"
"No, you fucking lunatic," Gordon says, turning everyone's eyes to him. "(Y/N) didn't deserve to be attacked for kicking you out, and now you'll get ten to fifteen years to think about how lucky you are to be stuck where I can't reach you," Gordon snarls. The security guard nearest Gordon shifts uncomfortably, unsure if he should step in.
"Oh, I'm so scared," Garrett says mockingly, but his eyes betray that he's not entirely confident in his words. "But she deserved it, the little home-wrecker. You've been fucking this slut every chance you get, haven't you?"
Everyone's eyes remain glued on Gordon. The distant wail of police sirens approaching cuts through the silence, but the world feels muted aside from the dull rush of blood pounding in my ears.
"If you thought something was happening," Gordon takes one step forward, raising a finger and pointing it at Garrett's chest, "why didn't you say anything before?"
Garrett shrugs, wincing when his body reminds him his shoulder is crippled. "I'm not going to cause drama for the sake of it. Do I look like a woman?" He snickers. "But when your little fucktoy started to come after me, yeah, you're both gonna have some problems."
The police cruiser pulls up to the curb, and two policemen emerge.
"This the guy?" The first officer asks one of the security guards, unhooking a pair of handcuffs from his belt and nodding toward Garrett.
"Yes sir, it is," the guard affirms, passing Garrett over. The cuffs click onto his wrists satisfyingly.
"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say..." The cop trails on as they load Garrett into the car. My brain tunes them out and focuses entirely on Janice.
She brought Garrett back on purpose, didn't she? He was already upset with me for the blood in the fryer incident. He was a time bomb she set personally. But she didn't know he knew anything about us, and now she's positively salivating. Her eyes drink in every motion of Gordon's, searching for the right time to strike.
I decide to strike first.
"Janice," her laser focus turns to me in an instant, "you got your drama, now can we finish the show?"
Janice's hawk nose scrunches as she curls her upper lip. "You realize the implications of what he said-"
"The implications of a violent monster are hardly facts, Janice," Gordon interjects.
"I concede that, but we need to investigate-"
"Investigate what, Janice? Haven't you 'investigated' more than enough?" Gordon takes one step toward her, and Janice's eyes flash with understanding his implication. "You're a producer, not a journalist. Now, can you get back to doing your bloody job before our customers leave?"
The cop car drives off, punctuating Janice's silence with a quick blip of the siren as they pull out of the parking lot.
"Well, with all things considered," Janice swallows, her eyes flitting between us, "the show must go on. Get back to your brigade, (Y/N)."
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