Idle Ingredients by Matt Wallace

Author:Matt Wallace
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

EXILE ON PASTRY STREET

Her third spumoni cupcake does nothing to salve Lena’s rubbed-raw nerves.

She sits atop a stainless-steel counter behind Nikki in the small pastry kitchen wedged far into the east corner of the buildings where Lena’s been exiled.

“So, really you’re upset because she thinks you’re a pastry puff,” Nikki says, minding a pot of sugar and water she’s bringing to a boil.

Lena frowns at her back. “I didn’t say any stupid shit like that, did I? You know I respect what you do. It’s just not what I do. Besides, you don’t need me back here. You’re the . . . whatever . . . Iggy Azalea of dessert.”

Nikki looks at her, nose scrunched up in repulsion. “Um. Ew?”

“I don’t know celebrities. Nik, she put a friggin’ pair of gothic Dracula gates on the kitchen. Does that seem normal to you? Even for this place? And half the line is standing in there like robots. I yelled at Dorsky and he didn’t even throw that shit-eating grin at me. I didn’t even hear him make a dumbass joke about it.”

Nikki, who had been stirring the contents of the near-boiling pot, stops. “That is weird, yeah.”

“I know, right? It’s more than just a corporate overlord cracking the whip. That chick is doing . . . something. I don’t know.”

As if on cue, Cindy’s voice precedes her sudden entrance into the pastry kitchen: “Can y’all believe that cot-damned Becky Kardashian hipster bitch? I mean, really? Really?”

Lena and Nikki turn to see Cindy carrying a cardboard filing box, looking as aggravated as either of them have ever seen her, although they’ve rarely ever seen her visit the pastry kitchen.

“What happened?” Nikki asks.

Cindy slams the box down atop one of the prep stations and takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

“Italian CEO Barbie just shuttered Stocking & Receiving,” she informs them both.

Nikki gasps. “Oh my god!”

Lena, on the other hand, just starts cursing.

“She said we don’t need to be ‘centralized on-site’ or some such shit. She said we’re a satellite operation, freelancers technically. Told us to pack up what crap we wanted to take from the hole and go home. We’re to consider ourselves ‘on-call.’ I mean, she did give us new company Samsung Galaxys, but damn.”

“Not to sound cold, but why are you telling us?” Lena asks. “We don’t really . . . hang.”

“That is extremely cold,” Nikki chastises her.

“I mean, where are Ritter and the others!” Lena shouts back at her.

“No, she’s right,” Cindy says, seeming genuinely undisturbed. “We all got our own cliques. But that’s the thing, though. Ever since this bitch came to town, the boys aren’t the same. I mean, Moon is, but that’s no damn help. Ritter and Hara didn’t even give a shit when she axed our space just now. They just shrugged and packed up and left. No argument, no . . . nothing.”

“I mean, they’re not expressive guys—” Nikki begins.

“I am aware of that,” Cindy snaps back at her, annoyed. “At first I thought it

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