"Good" is not an option.
"Good" is a fail. The local diner is "good".
At our level, every night
we must surpass our customers' wildest expectations.
They pay your rent, not me.
I may be the star that they come to see,
but I can't shine if the background actors
are bumping into the scenery.
Garde-Manger, the crudo
was coming out lopsided last night.
Don't explain.
Fix it.
And, hot line,
you need to pick up the pace.
And no sweating.
I don't sweat,
so neither do you.
Sam, another full house tonight.
Did you put the VIPs how I like them?
Yes, Chef, new money in the front,
big spenders in the back.
Thank you.
Pay extra attention to Table 12.
He's a five-star VIP,
- so anything he wants. - Yes, Chef.
Jordan, how many lamb shanks in the walk-in?
Jordan!
How many lamb shanks in the walk-in?
Uh, 30 or 31?
I can go down and count.
Don't worry about it.
Let's just wait till we run out
in the middle of service.
Go.
I can't do this alone!
Although it feels like it.
Get to your stations.
Be on your toes.
There's no room for error.
Understood?
Yes, Chef!
Order up!
- Coming through... - Watch out.
I've had this reservation for weeks.
It's Peterson for two. What is the problem?
I-I think there's just been a very slight mix-up,
if you'll just, you know, give me a moment. Thank you.
Ridiculous.
Mr. Montebello.
Mr. Montebello, hello.
We've got a corner booth ready for you.
Apparently you don't.
Good night, Chef.
Wait, wait, I can make room for you at the counter.
Let me fix this.
What is happening?
Who are the dancing morons at Table 12?
Look, I don't know. It doesn't make any sense.
They all showed up,
then people with the same names arrived 20 minutes later.
I paid $500 for this table.
And we are literally starving.
How did you pay for a table?
We don't sell reservations.
Understood.
I am so, so sorry, Mr. Montebello.
Please, let me make it up to you.
Let me show you why
we are the best restaurant in the city.
This Saturday, perfect.
Yes, I will make something extra special for you.
Okay.
Thank you, sir.
Malcolm?
Go downstairs and get half a tray of duck started.
- Do you want me to stay and help? - No.
Go home.
All of you.
And, Malcolm, don't forget to set the timer.
Yes, Chef.
Oh.
Almost done here, Chef.
I'll wait up for the deliveries.
The first one isn't until 4:00 a.m.
You little roach-eating basement rat.
Selling reservations at my restaurant?
Did you think I wouldn't find out?
I thought I would go out with a bang.
I hear your friend Mr. Montebello didn't get a table?
That's too bad.
You are so fired.
Like I care.
This place sucks.
Your menu is dull.
You never take any risks.
And you kept me down here for two years
when I have great ideas.
And you won't listen!
Mango salsa isn't new or good.
What, let me guess.
You got a fresh take on a beet salad.
Truffle oil. Genius.
Your lamb shanks are chewy.
What do you know about good food?
You can't even gut a fish properly!
I gave you a chance on the line.
You think I ever got a second chance?
I had to fight and claw
while idiot men got promoted over me.
You're weak!
Your cooking is weak!
And your knife work is a joke.
You may get another job,
but you will never
move up from the basement.
Never!
When this gets out,
you're finished...
forever.
Order's up.
Pulse is normal.
Breathing steady.
Hello there.
- Oh! - Nice and slow.
I need a medic.
Genevieve Hale?
I'm Detective Edwards.
You gave us quite the scare.
Do you know who did this to you?
Jordan!
Oh, my God, is he dead?
- Tell me he's not dead! - I'm so sorry.
Can we get him out of here?
It looks like you took a nasty beating.
Do you remember anything at all?
The stairs.
They pushed me down.
- "They". - Multiple suspects.
Okay, we need to get you to a hospital.
You might have a concussion.
No!
I can't leave.
We have to open.
- Okay. - Not today, you don't.
Come on.
Oh, careful.
I'm fine.
I've worked with concussions before.
Let's hold that thought a minute.
Do you have any cameras on the premises?
No.
I don't allow cameras in the kitchen.
Any other staff we can talk to?
Oh, gosh.
What happened?
Where's Jordan?
I can tell them if you want.
We were attacked last night.
He saved my life.
Jordan died a hero.
Look, I'll get the book.
- We'll cancel tonight's service. - No, no.
We keep, we keep service.
- Absolutely. - Do you smell that?
That smells incredible. What do you think it is?
I don't know, but it's making me
regret skipping breakfast this morning.
You didn't want to try those muffins
I left on the kitchen table?
They have Spirulina in them.
- That's why they're so blue. - We may lose
- the prep kitchen for the night. - At least.
We still have to process things down here.
Probably best if you don't touch that.
Okay, so no prep kitchen.
We'll work around it.
Can you see if your medic is still around?
I'm gonna need a sling for my arm.
Yeah.
We'll keep the menu slim tonight.
No specials, no pork shoulder.
But we open on time, okay?
Jordan would have wanted it that way.
Understood?
Yes, Chef.
Wow. She is tough.
Yeah, she needs to be.
- Kitchens are rough places. - Mm-hmm.
- Is it chicken? - Mm, I want to say bacon.
Hmm.
Thank you.
Have you ever seen a near-homicide
get up at the crime scene and go right back to work?
Actually, I have.
Adrenaline's a hell of a drug.
I try to avoid high-octane situations.
Bad for my knees.
What are those stains?
Do you see them? On her pants?
Could be from the kitchen.
- Hmm. - Why? What are you thinking?
- Venison? No, that's not it. - Mm-mm.
Oh! It's coming from in here.
Hey!
Get your hands away from that!
I handle the duck.
- Duck. That's what it is. - Mm. Mm-hmm.
Let's get these interviews over with.
I'll give you one hour.
- Understood? - Yes, Chef.
Sync and corrections by solfieri www.addic7ed.com
I put the duck in the oven for Chef Veev around midnight,
and then we all left.
I wish I'd been there.
I could have barred the door.
It was a horrible night.
The worst.
And then Jordan gets killed?
What was so bad about last night?
It was a mess.
There was some confusion at the door.
People were yelling at Sam.
And then all of our VIPs walked.
There was a rare slip at the door last night.
Some angry customers.
Did anyone threaten you?
Well, some people threatened to sue me.
People say all sorts of things when they're hungry.
Was Chef Veev upset about the mix-up?
Not overly upset, no, no.
Service continued as normal.
Nothing really rattles Chef Veev.
You should see her in action.
Oh, gosh, I'd love to.
I can't get the smell of that duck out of my mind.
Yeah, if you can get a table.
Did Jordon or Chef Veev have any enemies?
Only anyone she's ever met.
Chef Veev doesn't do well with most people.
Chef Veev is much better than she used to be.
I've worked for her for nearly 20 years,
and I'm telling you, she is a changed person.
Changed how?
Well, she went through a course of anger management therapy.
She was smart to do it.
Times change, chefs can't behave as they used to.
It was around 1:00 a.m.
The staff had all gone home, except for Jordan.
He stays overnight twice a week to accept early deliveries.
I was closing up the office
when I heard banging at the back door.
I figured it was an early delivery, so I opened it.
And that's when I was ambushed.
By how many people?
Two men.
I couldn't see their faces, they were wearing masks I think.
They threw me down the stairs and-and beat me with something.
A crowbar, maybe.
Jordan came in and they fought.
And I blacked out until you showed up.
I hope they didn't...
I just hope it was fast.
The medical examiner
put time of death around 1:30 in the morning.
He didn't suffer long.
Jordan saved my life.
Poor kid. Oh.
He had so much potential.
I saw real growth in his cooking these past two years.
He worked for you for two years
and he was still on the overnight shift?
Kitchen work is hard. Moving up is never guaranteed.
- Still, two years is a long time. - Mm-hmm.
You must've been close.
Are you sure you want to open the restaurant tonight?
I don't have a choice.
Do you think it's easy
running the best restaurant in Manhattan?
The margins are razor thin.
Missing one night means I lose my profit for the month.
I work seven days a week, no matter how I'm feeling.
Tired? Too bad.
My back aches? Suck it up.
Do you know of anyone who wanted to hurt either you or Jordan?
I...
Oh, man.
It's my fault.
I just didn't like the taste.
The "avocado cartels".
It had to be them. They came by a few months ago
trying to force me to buy only from them.
I said no.
"Avocado cartels"?
They call it "green gold".
The drug cartels are pushing produce now,
and avocados are big business.
Have you noticed how much it costs
for a side of guacamole these days?
I have!
I've changed my salsa-to-guac ratio.
I only eat avocado smashed on toast.
So we're talking standard O.C. shakedown?
Exactly. Organized Crime.
I would have gotten that eventually, but thank you.
They go from restaurant to restaurant
forcing people to use their product, or else.
These avocado boys don't play nice.
Ooh, I bet they're worse when they're smashed.
I'm sorry.
This is no laughing matter, Ms. Tascioni.
Eight chefs have been assaulted by these guys.
One so bad that he can barely walk, let alone cook.
Sounds like the same M.O. as our killer.
The autopsy showed whoever strangled Jordan was strong.
I think we're looking at big, muscly men.
Or a very strong female.
The cartels don't hire women.
I was thinking about Chef Veev.
You mean her?
Uh, yep.
Oh, geez.
I normally love your left-field hunches,
- but, Elsbeth, this is a victim. - Yeah.
Don't be a victim blamer.
I would love to be wrong,
I just have a very strong feeling about her.
Well, how would she inflict injuries on herself?
There were no weapons found at the scene.
The kitchen was full of dangerous implements.
All she had to do was just throw one away,
or... err... wash it.
But Chef Veev is so tiny.
You know what they say.
Dynamite sometimes comes in small packages.
Sorry.
If you're feeling brave, Detective,
I hear some of the guys over at OCTF
were talking about an "Avocado Don".
But I'm not sure where he's operating from.
That's Organized Crime Task Force.
Yeah, that one would've taken longer.
But, Detective, you need to be careful.
I'm not afraid of some guy pushing fruit.
Is it fruit or is it a vegetable?
It has a pit.
Ooh, does that count as a seed?
Peaches have pits.
I have sources on the dark web.
I'm gonna find him, Captain.
That's the spirit.
Four dollars. For a side of guacamole.
Yeah, highway robbery.
- Sometimes it's eight. - Off you go.
I want... Okay. Got it.
Oh, hey.
You sure you don't want to come with me tonight?
Oh, I can't.
Exams are coming up, I have to study.
Oh, okay. I'll bring something home to you.
Okay.
Excuse me.
Restaurant Vive, how may I help you?
Yes, hi, hello.
Oh, I would love a reservation for one for tonight
under Elsbeth Tascioni.
Tascioni. Um...
Have you dined with us before?
No.
Tascioni. That's the lady with the police.
Never. Ever.
Hello. I'm afraid we're fully booked.
Completely booked? For how long?
For the foreseeable future.
Uh...
Tomorrow night, my house. Everyone's welcome.
Welcome for what?
Oh, just a small gathering for the detectives.
Ooh, like a party?
Not a party. A poker game.
It's probably not your kind of thing.
I love poker. I am good at it.
Expressive people have confusing tells.
I'd love to come.
So, what's the occasion?
Oh, you know, uh, camaraderie, playful competition.
- Ooh. - The mood is off around here.
Look at Lieutenant Connor's sign-up sheet.
He's had to add a page.
Detectives are lining up just to tell him
all the things they don't like about me.
Oh, I doubt that.
He probably has a spreadsheet going,
listing all my flaws alphabetically.
Detective Smullen met with him.
But apparently Smullen is "too busy" for poker with the boss.
Can you believe that? And I'm a fun guy.
I think so. Your smile is infectious.
I found him.
Thank you, dark web!
Come look at this.
The mood seems pretty good to me.
Excuse me.
Uh, do you have any, you know, avocados?
No? Cool. Cool.
Great.
Oh, my God, my heart is beating out of my chest.
I love this undercover work.
I'm going to ask you again not to announce our presence.
It's kind of the whole point of the mission.
Right, right. Keeping a low profile.
Ooh, kumquats.
I just got word Avocado Don
is working out of the last stall on the north end.
I texted backup to meet me there.
- I'm going in. - Okay. Oh, wait.
What should I do?
Find a quiet corner, count to a hundred.
Or a thousand.
Ow. Wow.
Oh...
Excuse me.
You're both NYPD?
Almost. She's with me. What's this all about?
Special Agent Perez, FBI. Fruit Task Force.
So it is a fruit. The pit's a seed.
I wish more people were like you.
You nearly blew our cover.
We've had the "Avocado Don" under surveillance for months.
- Operation Green Gold. - What's your case?
He's wanted for questioning in a homicide last night
at Restaurant Vive in the West Village.
Last night?
The Don's not your guy.
His whole crew is under our watch
and they were working Harlem last night.
Nowhere near Vive.
So if it wasn't the avocado cartel,
then someone was trying to make it look like it was.
Hello, I'd like a table for one, please.
It's Emma von...
Pettigrew, of the Rhode Island Pettigrews.
Okay.
Well, um, what about the counter?
It's hard not to take it personally.
Don't. Places like Vive only let you in
if you're a CEO or a supermodel.
Nadine. Hello, gorgeous.
- You look stunning, as always. - Oh.
Darling.
I brought a friend.
Hello again. I came hungry.
So, how do you two know each other?
Oh, she thought I'd killed someone.
Yes, can you imagine?
But then Elsbeth outsmarted everyone
and found the real killer. Such talent.
I believe strongly in surrounding myself
with talented people.
Oh, thank you.
Oh, by the way,
you were right about those avocado guys.
They are dangerous.
So dangerous that the FBI is...
watching them.
So we know for sure
they weren't responsible for Jordan's murder.
Really? That's good to know.
Isn't it?
Oh, and how's your staff holding up?
I mean, they must be so scared
knowing whoever did this is still out there.
So strong and full of rage.
Do you think it could've been a rival chef?
Another model once tripped me backstage at Versace.
Not naming names.
Ask me in the car.
- Wow. People can be so competitive. - Mm.
I mean, aren't chefs known for their bad tempers?
Male chefs.
Women can't get away with that type of behavior.
Unlike models. Excuse me.
She has a big presence for such a small person.
So, um, how long have you and Chef Veev known each other?
Oh, since I was a young model in Paris,
when she was training at Chalet de Boeuf.
Chalet de Boeuf? I-I've never even heard of that.
Oh, that place was legendary.
The chef was a total psycho, though.
I heard Chef Veev burned a soufflé once
and he beat her with a frozen swordfish.
I hope it wasn't with the pointy end.
And I thought designers were sadists.
The first dish
on tonight's tasting menu.
- Enjoy. - Thank you.
Mm, that is unreal.
Mm-hmm.
It just, it's so rich.
You know, have the rest of mine.
I thought you could eat whatever you want
now that you retired from the runway.
Oh, yes, that was fun,
but then I gained a pound.
Ugh. It's like this everywhere now.
You think you're at an exclusive place,
then you find it crawling with riff-raff.
I'm surprised Sam lets them in here.
They buy their seats online
with black market apps.
They pay hundreds of dollars for tables.
You don't have to be rich and famous anymore, just rich.
It's undemocratic.
But who sells them?
Oh, anyone with access to reservations, I suppose.
Nobody touches the book but me.
I take all the calls and make all the reservations.
For those lucky enough to get one.
I'm a curator of people, you could say.
No offense.
None taken.
So, the names with the stars beside them are VIPs.
Mm-hmm.
The handwriting is different here.
Did you write that?
Well, I don't remember everything I write.
But the book stays here overnight, right?
So, if a staff member was alone in the restaurant,
say, a few nights a week, they could access it?
Well, yes, it's possible, but what for?
Well, a lot of New Yorkers would do anything to eat here.
And Chef Veev, boy, she is worth the hype.
I mean, I never knew you could do that
with a scallop.
- Yes, symphonic. - Mmm.
Okay, so,
on the night of the murder...
Ooh, that's a lot of stars.
Was that someone famous?
Mr. Montebello is a prominent businessman,
but he didn't stay.
Oh, because of the confusion at the door.
What do you think caused that?
Well, I, um,
couldn't possibly say,
but, uh, do let me know
if you need any more help finding the restroom.
- Okay. - Don't forget your purse.
Thank you. Goodbye.
Here you are.
Mmm. This flower petal is so rich.
Mm. Oh, hi. Hi.
I just have one more question.
I doubt that.
I was thinking about the mix-ups
at the door the other night,
and it had me wondering,
maybe Jordan was selling reservations.
Look, Ms. Tascioni,
I hate to speak ill of the dead,
but if Jordan was up to no good,
that could mean that he's the reason that I was attacked,
and I don't want to think that.
- Whenever you both are ready. - Oh, thank you.
Wow, that's a big bill for such tiny food.
I'm so happy I could help you with your assignment.
I believe strongly in helping friends.
I'd offer to pay, but I couldn't fit my wallet.
You had a five-course meal and you're still hungry?
Five very small courses.
Gourmet dollhouse food.
Quality over quantity.
Quantity is underrated.
She's a Chicago girl, she likes her food by the foot.
Oh, God.
I hate to say this in front of everyone,
but Elsbeth was right.
Jordan was definitely selling reservations at Vive.
He had an account on an app called Inside Table.
Inside Table? What's that?
People auction off hard-to-get restaurant reservations online.
Our victim was making over
five grand a month selling tables at Vive.
Don't say it, Buzz.
If it's not sex, it's money.
Have you ever heard of a VIP named Montebello?
He's a businessman, but I'm not sure what business.
Hospitality.
He just took over the Pomm Hotels International.
Claudia and I have met him at a few events. He's a big deal.
The tech guy says they found a second user
on Jordan's Inside Table app. A woman.
Could be sex.
He was saving up money to start a food truck.
I'm sorry for your loss.
I'm sure he was a wonderful boyfriend.
He was okay.
What kind of food truck was it gonna be?
Artisanal baloney sandwiches.
He was gonna call it "Gourmet Canned Ham".
Oh, that sounds fun.
How long was Jordan selling reservations at Vive?
About six months.
He had a system.
You know, write in a few reservations
under generic names,
sell them to the highest bidder.
Sam never noticed. He's drunk half the time.
So, why was the night of the murder such a mess?
Jordan had double-booked that night.
You mean, he sold real reservations
that other people already booked?
Why would he do that?
He must have known he'd get caught.
Jordan was ready to leave.
That place was toxic.
Chef Veev's a screamer.
Jordan always said if he got her on video,
it would make Gordon Ramsay look like Ted Lasso.
The reservation scam is definitely at the heart of it.
Jordan probably pissed off the wrong person.
- You know what I think? - Yes, I do.
You act like I haven't considered her.
Here's what I think:
Chef Veev is a high-profile female assault victim.
Targeting her with no solid evidence is career suicide.
But circumstantial evidence is evidence.
Behavior matters.
You saw, she got up and went right back to work,
- like nothing happened. - This is America.
Women go to work after a C-section.
Give me a motive.
Okay, she was so mad about the reservations
that her temper got the better of her.
But why kill him?
Why not throw a frying pan, fire the guy,
and get on with your life?
I don't know why... yet.
Now that I know you better,
I realize the worst way to stop you is to actually say the word "stop".
So, go ahead, follow your nose.
Knock yourself out.
I'll be here, doing a deep dive into Jordan's Inside Table buyers.
I still don't feel like stopping.
So, what can Pomm Hotel shareholders expect this year?
Two big changes.
First, better food.
We're planning a new chain of restaurants
to put in all of our major city locations worldwide.
Are we talking high end?
The highest.
I've been meeting with some of the country's hottest chefs
to find the right partner,
which means I've been having the best food of my life.
We'll announce the decision soon.
That sounds good. And what's the second change?
New pillows.
You'd be...
This is it.
Montebello's missed reservation
meant a huge missed opportunity for Chef Veev.
So,
we know she's a recovering rageaholic.
And we know
Jordan messed up her big night,
so, put those together and...
Well, I definitely think you're onto something,
but it just feels like a piece is missing.
Jordan's girlfriend said if he ever got her on video,
Chef Veev would be in big trouble.
Maybe there's more to that?
Officers needed at the front entrance.
- Gotta run. - Okay.
See you later, roomie.
Are you and Officer Blanke living together?
What? Uh, no, no.
I mean, uh, not exactly.
She's just staying with me
while she renovates her house.
So you're doing her a favor?
I wonder what the DOJ would think
about a person employed as an outside observer
exchanging favors with an NYPD officer.
I know all the fine print of the consent decree.
My arrangement with Officer Blanke
is perfectly legal. She's paying rent. It's not a favor.
And I assume you've calculated the market value
for an equally sized space in a comparable neighborhood?
Down to the dollar.
Ms. Tascioni? Get in.
TruRose. Wow.
Uh, okay.
Um, I was not expecting to see you in here.
I need to talk to you.
I think you know why.
Is this about your divorce from Mark Van Ness?
Yes.
My soon-to-be ex-husband
is a dangerous man.
But you worked on his first divorce, so you know that.
You and I shared a client once.
Mark Van Ness. Remember him?
Mark's first wife told you
terrible things about him.
But you didn't believe her.
You ruined her life.
- Now he's ruining mine. - Hang on, now.
Last I heard, Amber Van Ness was happily single.
You've been out of Chicago too long.
Mark owns a basketball team with rabid fans.
He told them to tear her apart online after their divorce.
She had a nervous breakdown.
That's terrible,
but I can't control that.
Mark has to be stopped.
Do you honestly think I would have married him
if I knew what you knew?
I signed a prenup under false pretenses.
So I need your help.
Oh, I'm sorry, I'm not available.
And I represented your ex.
You could find a way to help me,
if you actually wanted to,
but I guess you are as bad as the rest of them.
It was nice meeting you.
Love the bags.
Ooh.
Is this a rutabaga?
I never know what to do with these.
Elsbeth, right?
Are you following me?
Not exactly.
Actually, I, uh,
I came to apologize.
For what?
For treating you like a suspect
when you're clearly a survivor.
I realize that you spent your career...
In male-dominated spaces, so did I.
I'm a lawyer. Or I was one in Chicago.
And, God, some of the male lawyers...
They made my life hell.
So, I can only imagine what female chefs
like you have had to endure.
And then, to have someone like me
not believe your story
when you...
Well, you have the injuries to prove it.
You see these?
I started getting tattoos
to hide my scars.
Burns from boiling water, hot oil.
Some are from kitchen accidents, but...
some are from my mentors.
You mean like the chef from Chalet de Boeuf?
Uh...
Francois DeLuc.
Uh...
Yeah, but he's not the worst.
And you want to know something?
Even though I swore to myself
that I'd do everything differently, the old guys were right.
It is hard to be the boss.
It's my name on the menu,
and every little kid with an apron and an attitude
thinks it could be theirs.
Must be incredibly frustrating.
I've put up with worse.
Oh, by the way, uh, what's the status
of the Pomm Hotel partner search?
I mean, I assume you-you were in the running,
since Mr. Montebello was coming to eat at Vive,
but then he missed his reservation, all because of Jordan,
who the police know intentionally messed up the reservations that night
and who turned up dead hours later.
Thank you for your concern,
but my chances with Montebello have not been ruined.
He's coming back.
Oh, that's great news.
Ooh, wait, what're you gonna make him?
A cassoulet.
A casserole?
A cassoulet
with duck and smoked sausage.
Oh... that sounds amazing.
I would love to learn how to make that.
No, I smelled your roast duck.
I'm desperate to try it.
Yeah, well, I don't give lessons.
But if you want to learn how to cook like me,
buy my Maestro Class.
When it comes to cooking,
there are two elements every chef must master:
technique and timing.
We'll start with the basics,
then carry these skills all the way through
to my most challenging dish,
duck confit cassoulet.
I hope you're hungry.
Are you talking to me or her?
I'm gonna walk you through my shortcut version
for home chefs, but this is still a challenging dish,
and if you bought a whole duck,
you're gonna have to break down the bird.
Get your knife and use smooth slicing motions.
Now, you want to flip the duck over and pull.
Get aggressive if you have to.
Pop that bone out of its socket.
Now this is where it gets complicated, so pay attention.
If it's not right the first time,
remember, failure is part of the process.
Perfection takes practice.
And I've had a lot of practice.
Uh...
For the crispiest duck, follow my recipe exactly.
Not closely. Exactly.
Confit de canard takes patience
and perfect timing.
Allez! On y va.
Yes, I love you so much.
Is that my thyme?
Uh, about 11:00, I think.
No, my... thyme.
I was gonna make an herbed focaccia tomorrow.
Yum.
But you used it all.
Oh, right, I did. I'm sorry.
But I have good news.
I finally found the right recipe for Chef Veev's duck.
It smells exactly the same.
You could've asked.
I was gonna replace it.
But you're right, I should've asked first.
How's that studying going?
Honestly, not great. I'm kind of distracted.
Lot of sounds coming from the kitchen. And smells, too.
All my clothes smell like duck fat.
You know what I think?
I think you're stressed about your exams.
Maybe you need a study buddy. Why don't we make flashcards?
What I need is some peace and quiet so I can study.
I'm sorry.
You know I grew up with a lot of siblings, so...
I really like not having to share now.
I hear you, and that makes total sense.
Thank you. So, good night.
Good night, roomie.
I'm happy you're here.
And why'd you go and tell Lieutenant Connor
- we were living together? - I didn't mean to.
Oh, he just makes me so nervous.
How am I ever gonna get promoted if I'm on the lieutenant's hit list?
You're not breaking any rules by being here.
I would never put your job at risk.
I should've just stayed with my sister on Staten Island.
The ferry isn't that bad. Maybe this was a mistake.
Oh, no, don't say that.
Everything's fine.
It's perfectly normal to get on each other's nerves.
Whoa. What?
What is... that sound?
That's my phone timer. Oh, no!
Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. Ah.
Oh... shoot.
It's stuck to the pan. I missed a step.
Wait a minute.
The duck.
The duck!
Traditional duck confit cassoulet.
I hope it was worth the wait.
Mmm.
This duck is perfection.
You didn't miss a step.
I think we can build something magnificent together, Chef.
I have so much more I want to make for you.
She finally gets to escape from the kitchen.
The future's bright for us all.
Genevieve Hale.
Are you familiar with the reservation app Inside Table?
What's this about?
Our forensic tech team discovered
that an Inside Table user connected to your e-mail address
purchased a reservation at 1:05 A.M.
the night of the murder.
Right before Jordan was killed.
So tell me, why would you buy a reservation
for your own restaurant?
That's not against the law.
No, but murder is.
You bought a reservation from Jordan's account
to catch him in the act.
You found out he was selling reservations at Vive,
and not only ruined your night,
he ruined your chances for a huge hotel deal.
I'm calling my lawyer,
and you're all gonna apologize to me publicly.
This is a mistake.
An-an overstep by an incompetent police department.
Believe me. I was attacked, too, remember?
You saw my face.
- So who did that? - You did.
With what? My own fist?
That's the one piece we don't have.
Then you don't have anything.
No, actually we do.
We have what's most important to you,
your cooking.
You told the police that you blacked out
right after the attack, after which, Jordan was killed.
You were unconscious until the police arrived
on the scene at dawn, right?
Yes. We've been through this.
I mean, I was there when you woke up,
which is also when the timer went off
for the duck that had been cooking all night.
But you forgot something.
You see, after you strangled Jordan,
and after you beat yourself with a kitchen tool...
thanks to a pain tolerance
that can only be described as medieval...
you laid down
and waited to be found.
But... you forgot about the duck,
which your sous chef Malcolm had put in the oven
just an hour and a half earlier.
You see, there are a lot of different ways
to make duck confit, but there is only one way
that you make it here at Vive,
Francois DeLuc's way.
Malcolm confirmed it.
So, if you were unconscious,
who turned the duck at the 90 minute mark?
You did.
You dragged yourself across the floor to do it,
which is how you got the bleach stains
on the front of your pants, from the kitchen floor Jordan mopped.
Genevieve Hale,
you're under arrest for the murder of Jordan Humphries.
Oh, and do you want to tell me about the video you deleted
from his phone at 1:08 a.m.?
You left your prints on his screen.
Better yet, save it for the trial.
A perfectionist to the end.
You couldn't bear to ruin the recipe.
It was my best dish.
It would taste just as good if you were nice to people.
Do you think she made more of that?
Is anybody gonna eat the duck tacos?
They're good with guacamole.
Conflict-free guacamole.
- Oh. - Yeah.
Hey.
Hey!
Glad you could make it. Hey, push down, everybody.
- Make room. - Okay.
Yeah, we can deal her in on the next hand.
- Thank you. - Mm-hmm.
I heard you throw a great party.
You heard right. Somebody pass her a beer.
Ooh.
I needed a break from studying.
Are you hungry? Elsbeth made tacos.
Duck tacos.
Mmm. I'll pass.
All right, Elsbeth, it's to you.
Oh, um...
Okay...
Fold.
Wh...
Mm...
Look at that face. I think she's bluffing.
- I'm all in. - Oh, gosh,
is it that obvious?
Hmm?
I win again.
How many times is that?
- How much is this? - A lot.