at the front. Is that okay?”
Desmond shrugs and waves his hand for her to check the station out further. “What are you going to ask them to do exactly?”
“Oh, you know. I’ll just go over some basic questions and get a feel for how they take to the camera in a more personal setting. If I’m feeling good about someone, I’ll ask you to come in and chat with them a little. Just ask them about themselves, about their cooking history, comfortability level, that kind of thing.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
After that, Faye begins to wander around the kitchen, inspecting the place, while I move back to the station I’m sitting at in the back of the room, trying my best to focus on the task at hand. It seems easy enough. I’m supposed to write down each fresh ingredient needed then categorize it by food department.
“Hey.” Desmond comes up behind me with a piece of paper in his hands. “This is a list of everyone confirmed for classes starting tomorrow. Can you just call and leave a friendly reminder for each one? Start with tomorrow’s classes, and you don’t have to finish the week’s worth today, but I like to give them at least twenty-four hours of a heads-up.”
I nod and take a seat on the stool while he walks back over to Faye. Soon, a few men are walking through the door with lighting equipment, microphones, and cameras. They begin to listen to Faye’s instructions while Desmond keeps himself busy at the front, prepping a meal for today’s delivery.
My eyes are trained on the set designer, who manages to turn what was once a normal cooking station into an eye-catching focal point for the lens.
“Um, sweetie?” Faye calls out.
My eyes snap to hers, confused by the endearment. “Huh? Me?”
“Her name is Maggie,” Desmond offers, and I’m thankful for the help.
“I’m sorry. Maggie. Do you mind stepping out of the shot? Perhaps Desmond can set you up in the back room so you won’t be a distraction.”
Oh, hell no. Heat flashes through me, but before I can say anything, Desmond is jolting from whatever he was doing and starts making his way to me. “You can use my office.”
When I don’t budge, he reaches for the paper he handed me earlier and leans in toward me. “It’s only for a couple hours, and it’s not like you’ll be able to make phone calls out here with the auditions going on.”
I blow out a frustrated breath and nod. “Whatever. But I won’t let her tell me what to do again.”
Desmond chuckles. “I believe you.”
I follow Desmond closely as he leads me into the back room, which is filled with rows of scoopable bulk items like grains, seeds, flour, and nuts. There’s a set of bathrooms for guests, a locker area for students to place their items while they’re in class, and an elevator that I recently learned will take me up to my new apartment or down to the parking garage. In the very corner of the room, tucked behind a storage room, is Desmond’s office, which I’ve never even seen.
He pushes open the door to expose a disaster of a space. There are papers and boxes everywhere, covering his desk, the couch, and the file cabinet. “Just ignore the mess. I’m barely in here.”
“Yeah, probably because you can’t even walk inside it without surfing across the floor. Holy shit, Desmond. How can you find anything in here?”
He shrugs, seeming to not care. “I don’t. Everything is electronic now. Most of this can probably be tossed, but I need to go through it first. I guess Gretta never got around to it.”
I bite the inside of my lip to keep from laughing. “No wonder why she flaked on you so much. Desmond, this is pretty bad.”
He sighs. “I need to get back out there. Are you going to be able to make your calls in here, or do I need to set you up in the storage closet instead?”
I roll my eyes and push past him toward the desk. I pick up a pile of papers sitting on his chair and place it on another teetering stack on his desk. “I’ll be good. I’m sure there’s a phone here somewhere.”
Desmond’s jaw ticks with annoyance. “You’ll figure it out.” Then he closes the door behind him without another word.
Looking around, I sigh and take a seat before searching for the phone, which I find under another pile of papers. By the looks