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charts. Instant, viral hits.”

They traded. But Alvin resisted.

“Hold up, I gotta lay this stuff out how it should be set up.”

That did not stop Teddy from peeking underneath the foil.

“All I know is, you better had brought some bun.”

“C’mon, who you talking to? I keep a spare just for you.”

“I might start giving you twenty dollars a month to pack a basket full of these island goodies.”

Alvin flipped his friend’s album over in his hands.

“What are these notes you’re so excited about?”

Teddy licked some beef gravy from his fingers as he responded, “You have the producer. You have the writer, the performer. But how can you not include some of those invisible forces that make up the backbone of the entire production?”

That was enough to send Alvin’s eyes scurrying across the contents.

He found it.

Teddy probably expected his friend to lift his face with a ginormous smile, but the chef lifted his head in mild terror.

Alvin did love the surprise – being included on the album, in the “Thanks” section. It was a childhood dream come true. But as soon as he spotted his name, his CI role crashed into his mind. That was his new guardian. His longtime girlfriend. What would they say? How would it affect his relationship? And generally, he was instructed to and felt most comfortable – maintaining a low profile under the circumstances of the operation.

“You haven’t released this, have you?”

“No. But I plan to. Obviously. What’s wrong? I spelled your name right, didn’t I?”

“Naw, nothing like that. You know how much this means to me. Thanks.”

“How are you a cook, and you got me feeling like you’re a judge on American Idol, about to send me home?”

Alvin could not compromise himself or the investigation. Outside of communicating how dangerous Coco was, Agent Matts was all too clear about treating the case against his boss as one that was ongoing, even when the cook was away from work.

“You know how my clients are. So snooty that even their cooks can’t shine too much without them.”

“So what are you saying? You don’t wanna be on the album?”

Hearing it out loud broke Alvin’s heart, to affirm such an accusation. But better to bruise his ego now, than to defend his life later on.

Though he was not convinced it would go that far. Yet.

It did mean that tough decisions had to be made, more often than not. Getting out on someone’s surefire claim to fame should have been the extent of his bigger sacrifices. Hopefully.

“Sorry, Ted. These people pay me good money. Believe it or not, there are lawyers and NDA’s wrapped up in all of this. Annoying stuff. I’m just a cook, but they can’t let anything slip through the cracks.”

“Seems they can afford not to have any cracks, but I get it. You’re off. You keep the test though.”

“I will cherish it with my life. Okay, you finish up on the boards, and I’ll get the food ready.”

Teddy was mid-stride when he turned back toward Alvin and their lunch.

“What about a pseudonym?”

How about that? It could not hurt, Alvin slowly became sure. There would be nothing tying his identity to the name. The perfect alias. Doing its job. Then why not dangle just outside of danger’s bite?

“Tough Tiger Fist.”

Tough Ti— Wu-Tang Name Generator?”

“Wu-Tang Name Generator,” the chef smiled.

“Done deal.”

***

“What did you do on your day off?”

“Isn’t that…my business?”

“Technically.”

Agent Matts and Alvin were together for their latest check-in. The federal investigator was also growing increasingly tense. Different from Coco’s calm, problem-solving obsessiveness, but there was still a sense of urgency about the major details of the soon unfolding bust.

“Nothing of real concern.”

“At ease, soldier. I’m only asking at the watercooler.”

“I just cooked.”

“The people of your profession do the thing we all think you’re doing when you aren’t cooking for others?”

“I like to bowl. Occasionally.”

“That’s changing the pace.”

“I’m pretty decent. Looking for a league.”

“You couldn’t really get a sense of what she’s doing with that party?”

“No. I’m cooking as she wants me to. I’m submitting the dishes next week in a tasting.”

“What is she, planning a wedding?”

“She cares a lot about this gathering. Sounds like it’ll be of wedding reception proportions.”

Matts kept to himself for a moment. There was a darkness that clouded his thoughts. Not the usual, annoying thoughtfulness he exhibited, but some sort of additional switch that had just turned on.

“By my count, you’re about to see a lot in these coming weeks, Al. You probably will. This organization doesn’t just deal in organized crime. They’re white-collar, yes. But they can get gritty. And high…concept.”

The whole time, Matts would constantly reassure Alvin that the group whom Coco represented was indeed dangerous. Mob-level bad. But Matts let the chef hear the concern in his voice that night. And the agent’s tone got starkly professional all of a sudden.

“High concept? People only say that when they’re describing movies.”

“They aren’t a far cry from that. The reason this group has been so elusive is because of their seemingly endless cashflow, and their amorphous presence. There are different figures, different heads, a collective. We lucked out with Coco because she’s new, and we managed to tap her history before it was completely wiped from government records.”

Alvin’s head was spinning. He was not cooking for a demonic entity. It was the guard for the Devil himself.

“So they’re trying to be like, an actual Illuminati?”

“That’s one way to put it. They have the power to change reality for millions of people. If there was any such thing as a super villain, the no-gooder would come from this group.”

“Does my job change? Can’t they figure out what we’re doing here? What do we do?”

“We keep at this. You have to be doing just your job more than ever. You have only ever been observing and reporting.”

“Great time to tell me I’ve been cooking food in a comic book!”

“The orders of this operation are strictly need-to-know. There’s going to be a pile of bodies that you’ll be a witness to. Keep cooking. You were hired

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