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So what the hell are we gonna do for the meal this weekend, anyway?” Rickey asked. “Do we really want to show off a range of world cuisine, or do we just want to impress the suits?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Milford told him. “I got it all figured out.”
This was about the answer Rickey had expected, but it still grated on him. Since the weird scene between Milford and Clancy Fairbairn and the subsequent conversation at the bar, Milford had been increasingly dismissive of Rickey’s contributions to Soul Kitchen. Rickey supposed some chefs would be fine with this arrangement—getting paid to lend your name to something while doing hardly any of the work—but for him it rankled. “OK, look,” he said. “I’m not your f*****g line cook. I’m not even your sous chef. I’m supposed to be the executiv
