The Chicken Sisters by KJ Dell'Antonia

Author:KJ Dell'Antonia [Dell'Antonia, KJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2020-07-28T00:00:00+00:00

AMANDA

Frannie’s was packed. Utterly, totally packed. Word that tonight was the night the celebrity chefs would come had spread. Every seat was taken, the bar was full to standing, and in the little entry and waiting area people were packed in on the benches. There was even a couple standing squashed in behind the Lions Club candy machines. Outside, they’d set up more benches—Amanda and Gus had even loaded a wagon wheel and a wooden wheelbarrow planted with annuals into Mary Laura’s old truck and brought them over for atmosphere—and a big orange cooler of water with paper-cone cups for people waiting in the hot sun. Amanda fielded a few takeout orders, but most people wanted to come in, enjoy the air conditioning, and have their delicious meal served with a flourish on a classic divided-oval off-white diner plate.

They wanted to be a part of it.

Between the crowd and the cameras, the waitstaff should have been in a panic, but Amanda had to give full credit to Nancy. She never let them break a sweat. She was everywhere, telling them they were doing great, that a little spill or slosh wouldn’t matter, that everyone was having a fantastic time and to just keep it up. Except Amanda. Amanda she was ignoring.

The first chef to arrive at Frannie’s was Simon Rideaux, famed as much for his hard-drinking, straight-talking approach to food as for his series of bestselling cookbooks. He came in without Sabrina, who had said she would return later with the other chefs, and striding ahead of his Food Wars handlers. The crowd parted for him as best they could, and Amanda, who had been prepared and essentially pushed into place by one of Sabrina’s minions, showed him to his table.

“I never eat alone,” he declared. “You will sit down with me, then. Take a load off. Someone else can seat people for a while. You’ll be forgiven, I guarantee it.”

Amanda cast a frantic look around, but there was no one to rescue her. The producer behind the camera gestured for her to sit. Oh, this was not going to help with Nancy. She had not found the discovery of a dozen boxes of chicken originally meant for Mimi’s in her walk-in funny, and she had made it clear to Amanda through whispers and glares that she was disappointed in her. She didn’t know yet that Sabrina had filmed Amanda doing it, but she would soon enough. The wave of self-righteous glee that had led Amanda to invite Sabrina along to help rub Mae’s face in her failures had vanished, replaced by a miserable cocktail of regret, guilt, and remorse.

Rideaux refused the menu a nervous Gwennie was extending to him. “Bring me the specialty of the house, of course. Fried chicken and whatever you serve with it, however it’s most popular. And this lady will have the same.”

Amanda looked at him in horror. “No, no. I can’t do that. I already ate, anyway. Really.” The only thing worse than sitting

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