by Barry Ergang
“What’re you thinking?” the resort owner demanded. “I ask for a first-class chef and you hire a race-car driver.”
“Retired race-car driver,” his president of operations said, “who’s studied at some of the world’s finest culinary institutes.”
The owner snorted. “Yeah--he’ll give the customers gas, right?”
“The customers’ll be revved. Racing’s popular all over the world. Drivers are superstars—including our boy. The novelty’s a great shift for us because we can advertise a five-star restaurant featuring a dual-celebrity chef.” He snapped his fingers. “We could rename the restaurant Grand Prix!”
“Which of you do I spin out of here first?”
“Neither. At least, not till you’ve lapped the fare. You don’t know heaven till you’ve tasted his Lamb Borghini.”
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Winner of the 2007 Derringer Award from the Short Mystery Fiction Society in the Flash Fiction category, Barry Ergang has had fiction, poetry and non-fiction appear in numerous publications, print and electronic.
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