The terror in them was real.
“I’m just the server, sir,” she whispered.
Then she turned and fled toward the kitchen.
Gerald muttered something sharp about my health, the deal, the wasted time, but I was already on my feet.
I told him to stay put and pushed through the swinging doors.
The kitchen hit me like a wall of heat, steam, and sound.
Cooks shouted, skillets hissed, knives struck cutting boards.
Hannah stood near a stainless-steel prep station with one hand on the counter and the other pressed to the small of her back.
She looked like she might collapse.
“What is going on?” I demanded.
She shook her head.
“You shouldn’t be back here.”
“You’re my son’s wife,” I said.
“You’re eight months pregnant and waiting tables.