The noise was the first thing that struck Landry Merriman as she stood just inside the swinging kitchen doors of the Chessman Hotel. It was a veritable wall of sound, with pots and pans clattering, oven doors slamming, dishwashers humming, and people yelling to be heard over all of it.

“As you can see,” Mrs. Myers said, rather loudly, “It’s a very lively place,” she slipped out into the relative quiet of the sumptuously carpeted hallway outside the kitchen, “Why don’t we finish the interview in my office, Ms. Merriman.”

Landry reminded herself to wipe the judgmental look from her face as she followed the woman down the hall and into a small, tidy room. She had never, ever seen such a horribly run professional kitchen in her career, but it wouldn’t do to be critical, until she had the job, at any rate.

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