STRIDING THROUGH THE kitchen, I pass the empty tray to the poor kid on dishwashing duty and give him a small smile. I swipe my arm across my brow and snag a bottle of water from the fridge. I swallow back half of it in one long gulp. Looking around the busy kitchen, the staff pay me no never mind. Two chefs approach, and I have to breathe in to allow them to pass. one of them winks at me, and I frown. I’m really not comfortable with being noticed, or openly admired, as a matter of fact. I give him a small, friendly nod in return and quickly exit...