Buffalo West Wing Read Free

one suffering from a nonexistent love life these days. She and Rafe, one of our SBA chefs, had been an “item” in the kitchen until six months ago when Rafe had accepted a position as executive chef at a prestigious New York hotel. Like me, Cyan was “single” again. Unlike me, however, Cyan was ready for a rebound. I was happy to immerse myself in my job and forget about relationships for a while. Life was so much simpler that way.
    At least that’s what I kept telling myself.
    Bucky led us into the kitchen, talking over his shoulder. “You didn’t tell Gardez what you were making in here. Why not? Too embarrassed to admit it?”
    “Hardly,” I said. “Did you get a look at the other guy, Bost? He was ready to deck Cyan for continuing the conversation. I’m surprised he even took time to watch the inauguration.” I shrugged. “But then again, I suppose we were all like that when we were new: anxious about making a good impression.”
    Cyan laughed. I wasn’t quite sure why, but I had too much work to do to bother finding out. Bucky headed into the refrigeration area, and I went to check on my “masterpiece.” Some accomplishment: mac and cheese with green beans. I shook my head. This dish was on Abigail and Joshua Hyden’s list of homemade favorites. In addition to the tacos, minipizzas, and salad that we planned to serve our young guests tonight, we would also feature make-your-own sundaes, and Marcel’s famous brownies.
    Even though Marcel was the only one of us with the freedom to whip up an original creation tonight, I wasn’t jealous. The event we were organizing was no less important than the parties our new president and his wife would enjoy as they were fêted all over town. My team was charged with providing dinner for the new First Kids and their friends who had been invited to tonight’s sleepover.
    I missed Marguerite, Mrs. Campbell’s social secretary. She had been replaced by Valerie Peacock, who had arranged the evening’s festivities. While Valerie wouldn’t be here in person to oversee the show—she would be attending all the gala events around D.C. tonight with her boss—she had left detailed instructions with her staff. Valerie had set up a scavenger hunt for the youngsters’ entertainment. Designed not only to be fun, the race around the White House would help familiarize the Hyden kids with their new home.
    Part of their game would bring them to the kitchen, and I was looking forward to that. I’d met the children briefly during their initial visit, but I wanted them both to know we were here for them, ready to prepare whatever they wanted—assuming their mother approved. We hadn’t had school-age children in the White House for a long time. I knew things would be different. Just how different remained to be seen.
    “What kind of pizzas are we making tonight?” Cyan asked, scratching her head. “I know it changed.”
    “We’re adding spinach pizzas in addition to the pepperoni,” I said. “They invited a couple more kids and one of them is vegetarian,” I started to question where my assistant’s mind was today. I’d answered that question for her at least twice already. I finished checking on the cheesy green bean casserole and came around to continue. That’s when I spotted an out-of-place box on the countertop behind her. “What’s that?” I asked, pointing.
    She twisted to look as I made my way over.
    The box was about twelve inches square and about eight inches deep. Bright red in color, it bore the familiar Rene’s Wings logo. Rene’s was a well-known national barbecue/ chicken wing chain. An oval sticker read “Garlic and Green Pepper.”
    “I’d guess it’s an appetizer.”
    Wondering how Cyan had missed seeing it, I lifted the lid of the box to find exactly what we expected: a plastic-covered take-out container jammed with sauced chicken wings. What we didn’t expect to see was the bright yellow note taped to the inside of the lid.
    “For Abby