Page 86 of The Promise Of You

“Two Arnold Palmers, a Bees Knees, and a Thyme Will Tell,” Haley calls out. “Hey, guys! What’s up?”

Alex’s answer is to show her the phone.

While I mix her drinks, I brace for the worst.

“Uncle Justin,” Skye’s little voice pipes in, “may I please have a grilled cheese sandwich and—”

“And French fries. Already placed the order with Shane, sweetheart.”

She hoists herself on a barstool, a big grin on her face.

I finish up Haley’s drinks, then set a Shirley Temple for Skye on the bar. Haley hands the phone back to Alex and takes her tray without a word. I risk glancing at her. I was expecting a lot of ribbing. All I get is tight lips, rosy cheeks, and laughing eyes.

But she says nothing to me, and that tells me I should be concerned.

I’m just not sure about what.

“When are we tasting all that stuff?” Chris asks.

“What stuff?”

“Your food for the fair. You’re not gonna go blind, are you? Let’s do a tasting.”

I rub the back of my neck like that’s a complication I could do without, when since I’ve read Chloe’s email it’s all I’ve been wanting to do.

A repeat session with Chloe.

But with people around. No wandering hands. Or thoughts. “I guess that’s an idea,” I finally drop. Inside, I’m like a kid in a candy store. We’ll do this here, in my pub. It’ll be just Chloe and me in the kitchen. In my kitchen. “Sure,” I add with a shrug.

The following Tuesday, Chloe is in my pub, in my kitchen, in fucking shorts and a tight tee on account of the heat in and out of the kitchen. “Did you see the videos Alex made of us? They’re so cute!”

I did see the videos—the unedited ones. Alex sent them to me right after leaving the pub, the other day. There’s over an hour of footage, maybe two—and I watched it all. And might have zoomed in. And might have sought and found release. More than once. “I haven’t really paid attention.” I hand her a chef’s apron, but it does nothing to make her less attractive.

“Right, course,” she says, seeming disappointed. “What are we working on today? Why did you need my crew to come in later?”

I get to the walk-in cooler and hand her containers. “A practice run. I had the kitchen here make those preps following our recipes. That’s how we’ll do it for the fair. Most of the stuff will be made in advance here at the pub, by Shane and his team. We’ll shlep everything down to the fairgrounds the day of. We’ll just heat up, fry a couple things, assemble. Basic stuff. You and I’ll do that today to get our sea legs, and then we’ll have a bunch of people taste and give us their opinion.”

“Oh.” Her shoulders tighten and her face closes up.

“It’s gonna be fine.” I hand her the meat container. “We’ll reheat that and keep it in a chafer today. I’ll be borrowing food warmers for the fair. It’ll be similar. The main thing is the mise en place. It means setting out every ingredient in advance and logically on your workspace so you’re not scrambling when an order comes in.”

“I—I’ve never done this before. I’m not—I’m not—”

What is she talking about?

She lifts panicked eyes to me.

“The hell is going on?” I say softly. Hell, I do want to take her in my arms, and we’re just getting started.

“I’m not qualified!” she blurts. “These are… professionals,” she adds with a sweeping motion of her hand.

I pour the meat in a large pot, cover it, and set it on the range at low temp, then get a chafer ready and turn the deep frier on. “Right. And neither am I. I learned by watching, and that’s what you’re doing too. We’re both restaurant owners lending a hand so we can run our businesses in two places at the same time. See, I love Cass and all, I really do, but the thing she doesn’t realize with the fair, is that we all need to split ourselves in two. It’s not like we’re going to close our restaurants while the fair is going on.

“But you know who knows that? Our staff. And they appreciate that we’re stepping in, taking on something that’s not glamorous so they can continue to do their jobs and the town can have even more visitors. So believe me when I tell you, there will be no judgement on their part. Only encouragement. And let me just finish by saying, there’s nothing kitchen staff appreciates more than to put their feet under the table and enjoy a meal they had no part in preparing. Especially if their boss is doing the cooking.”

Color tints her cheeks. “Okay. I guess.”

“Besides, you’re an awesome cook.” I set up the herbs and chopped veggies and brioche buns on a prep table.

---