The sign over the door read, in peeled and faded paint, “The Lucky Pepper.” To those in the know, it was the place to go if you wanted good food done quick. To those not in the know, the crumbling facade and sketchy neighborhood was generally enough to sour even the most hardy appetite.
Then there was the cook.
Pepper Fortune, chef and proprietor of the Lucky Pepper, had approximately two moods. The first came out when she was cooking. Singing and humming would drift out from the kitchen, as well as laughter and even - on rare occasions - jokes, told to her pet bugrit. The bugrit generally didn’t respond.
The second came out when she wasn’t cooking, and it betrayed a fiery temper, a severe dearth of patience, and a burning desire to get back to cooking as quickly as possible. It was in this mood that Pepper had very nearly stabbed a customer in the hand with her paring knife for daring to suggest that his food was taking a little long to come out.
“You’re sure you want to have lunch here?” Mira asked.
“Oh yeah, definitely!” Wick pushed the door open. “You’re gonna love this place! Promise!”
Mira gave a sidelong glance to Saffron, who shrugged and said, “Look, the shrimp will steal anything that’s not nailed down and then take the nails too, but she’s got good taste in food.”
“Well, all right,” Mira said. “Let’s go, Hanna.”
“Yeah, Hanna’s already ordering.”