“I won’t let you down.”
“See to it that you don’t. But you were right. She’s out tonight, so she wants a feast when she returns. You’ll have your instructions waiting on you when you get to the penthouse.”
“I can start whenever I want?”
“Technically, yes. But Coco insists you rest while it’s day out.”
“Can’t help but sense how aggressive her insistence is, even from here.”
They were at the top. The doors floated open and they were at one end of a very opulent hallway. Creamy, warm walls with mahogany trim. Sunlight pooled through windows in several spots, making the walk to the suite something from a dream.
“You aren’t wrong, but it’s hardly for your sake. Don’t be so foolish.”
“Copy.”
It was hard to know when Hendrix was back to his old, chummy self. Perhaps that side was not returning until the whole thing finished and Alvin was safely on his way back home.
“Boss wants some relief after a night of work. She needs you at your best so she can eat the best when she returns. Simple as that.”
“I’ll deliver. Promise.”
“I know you will.”
Hendrix applied his thumb to a biometric scanner. Too fancy and precious for a card insert. The light atop the house door flashed green and they were both in.
“I’ll have clearance to go and come as I please, myself, right?”
They stepped through the threshold and all of Alvin’s things greeted them upon entering. But they never came across anyone else on their way up. There must have been some other access point. Might come in handy.
“There was some back and forth on that, but yes. You’re allowed to use the spa facilities, and you have commanding access to the kitchen. You’ll have as much space as you need down there, should it be necessary.”
“So penthouse, spa, kitchen.
Hendrix bristled a little more.
“You shouldn’t need to go anywhere else for the time you’re here. But if you do, talk to me first. You’re still not supposed to be here, as far as the Government’s concerned.”
“Right.”
“I’ll leave you to your devices, then. A guard will be posted at your door. Alert him if anything is off about your stay. Otherwise, you have my number.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“And Al.”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t foul up those instructions.”
“On the job.”
Hendrix did a sweep of the apartment before leaving. There was probably no such thing as being too careful anymore. Whether there were fans like Pharaoh, or crime fighters and villains who thought they had a chance, everyone probably wanted a piece of Coco.
It was mid-morning by the time the chef was left alone. Another eight or so hours and Alvin would be on the clock. He had to cook his heart out. He knew that, so resting was going to have to be an immediate directive to follow. After he took a glance at his temporary employer’s instructions. He still needed all his time beforehand to interpret and fathom her transcribed mood on paper.
The cook placed his satchel down and stepped towards the counter for the instructions. As Hendrix mentioned, there was a piece of paper, but from feet away, Alvin could already observe the writing was brief. Nothing at all like Coco’s old stream-of-consciousness emails or phone calls.
Look in all the cabinets.
You’ll know it when you see it.
From the depths, I want it to stick.
Easy enough.
There were not any combination locks or poison in Alvin’s system he had to crack some code to get the antidote for. He would always respect Coco’s flare for spice.
Food was scenery on a journey. It was not just a trip to a restaurant or to a grocery story. Alvin exposed all of the contents in the kitchen cabinets.
Nothing.
She could not make it too easy. What other rooms in a five-star suite had cabinets?
Bedroom storage spaces.
Nothing there.
The bathroom had cabinets. But there was nothing hidden in the restroom either.
Some frustration started to set in. He had time. But for a Coco-sized request, he needed some room to cast a vision and see it through. She appreciated the emotion in his food. Even more, because she somehow managed to contribute to the state of the food she was served. So there was more pressure to perform excellently.
Coco needed the food to turn out how she craved it originally, without making specific requests as to what she wished to eat.
The devil you know.
Before long, Alvin grew desperate. She designed it that way. He got no passes, even being the closest at created things Coco desired. He was soon ducking and dodging the various doors to dark interiors in the penthouse. He had to retrace his steps, and soon deduced that whatever doors or drawers were not open, his next steps were behind one of those.
There were only a few doors left. The anticipation kept Alvin from losing it. It had only been an hour, but much longer than any plain instructions would have taken to digest within seconds.
Twenty minutes at the most. Even under Coco’s direction.
The fridge had several doors to open and pore over. There was also the linen closet. The fridge was too obvious. Even symbolically, Alvin could not imagine his boss was that on the nose.
So the linen closet.
The cook walked over, heart picking up some beats per minute.
Sandwich in hand.
He worked up an appetite.
The closer he got, the more Alvin was sure his critical information was behind the doors. He reached the height-tall closet in the hallway, before the den, bathroom and separate sink room.
Nothing.
Alvin kept his cool. There was more to uncover. He started to gut the other cabinets before realizing they were a lost cause. If he was in the right place, the instructions would come to him.
The location of the linen closet allowed some sunlight to bounce off the dark walls and give the towels and blankets molten surfaces. Everything was color coordinated, exemplary of the lush environment.
Then there was a
