This is the third dish that I've stopped from being served because it's looked like shit." Isabella snapped at her kitchen staff. "You've all been here long enough to know that dishes that look like this are absolutely unacceptable!" She pointed to the plate of clams casino, then made a show of dumping the whole thing in the garbage can. "Start it over, and don't make them wait forever." Dylan had walked in halfway through her rant. He looked at the plate before she had rid the contents and notice that while it hadn't been the best presentation he'd ever seen, it wasn't horribly hideous like she had made it out to be. Something had her on edge lately, and Dylan wasn't sure what it was. She hadn't been herself for the past couple of weeks, and he knew that it had to be something big because it looked like she hadn't slept in over a week. Her face was pale, and the dark circles under her eyes had become a permanent fixture. He looked over to the dessert station, where she busied herself with a Baked Alaska.
