She put him to work, and he complied without complaint, taking the prep list and propping it up at his station. All went well, right up until he made Patty cry. Reggie was in the office, taking a call, when she heard the bathroom door next to the office slam shut, followed by the sound of muffled sobs. As soon as she hung up, Reggie headed out of the office and straight to Tom’s station, where he was putting together the potpies, exactly the way she had asked. No twists, no flairs. Just standard Tremont chicken potpies. It had to be killing him. Reggie pushed up her sleeves as she walked toward him. “What did you do to Patty?” He glanced up after filling a shell, his expression innocent. Reggie wasn’t fooled. “I made an observation.” “What observation did you make, Tom?” “Look, all I said was that she needed to move faster.” “How did you say it? Were those your exact words?” His dark expression was all the answer she needed. “She is not one of your orangutan kitchen workers,”
