Chapter 20“Hey, you,” I said, stopping in Derek’s office doorway and leaning on the frame. “Long time no see.” I was still in my chef’s jacket, this one, black and crusted—the stains on it proof that tonight had been a mad night. There were about ten festivals going on all at once in the city, and it seemed a third of those people had walked into Split this evening. We’d not had a break for six or seven hours, and by ten P.M. we had been out of oysters, tiger shrimps, and any kind of entree.
“My feet, Nick,” Derek said, spinning his office chair around and raising his foot to his lap. “I don’t think I can take my shoes off. I think they’re stuck.”
I chuckled and entered his neat and clean office. The small space was amazingly organized and Derek had put up all kinds of beautiful reproduc
