Page 15 of The Guy in the Alley

“I’ll go see what I can find.” Petey stalked off.

In the meantime, I filled the pot with water and started eyeing our spice selection on the wall. We should be able to pull together a poor man’s goulash.

“We should have plenty of ground pork and tomatoes!” I yelled.

’Cause we were out of the chicken that’d been reserved for this service.

When Petey returned, he and I worked like a well-oiled machine. It wasn’t our first rodeo, and we knew what we could pull together quickly. We skipped carrots ’cause they took forever to soften. No potatoes either. He took care of the pork, and I chopped onions and bell peppers. Ben came in around that time and stood sort of frozen, just watching.

Overwhelmed, maybe?

I crushed six cloves of garlic into each pot, then added the beef stock and crushed tomatoes before reaching for the paprika.

“You okay, Ben? You can take a breather, you know,” I said.

That seemed to snap him out of whatever. “Uh, sorry—no. Um, I counted about eighty people.”

Fucking hell.

“Can someone do the math for me? Will fourteen gallons of extra soup be enough?”

Petey squinted at nothing.

“What’s the serving size?” Ben asked.

“’Bout two cups,” I said, tossing five sticks of butter into each pot.

“Then, yes,” he answered. “Fourteen gallons, two cups—should be roughly one hundred and ten servings.”

“Exactly what I was gonna say,” Petey bullshitted.

I side-eyed Ben. “You some kinda math whiz?”

He cleared his throat. “If that makes you feel better, sure.”

Ha!

I grinned, unable to help it. I liked this guy. I liked a guy who could sling sharp comebacks.

I didn’t know what made Ben smile, but he nodded and said, “I’ll go help the others,” and he walked out.

I chuckled and shook my head. He was funny.

He had a sexy smile too.

* * *

At ten minutes to five, I was in relief mode. We were gonna make it. Despite having run out of bread, we had a delicious goulash that contained both meat and pasta.

“Trace! We made it!” The sound of that kid’s voice echoing my thought stole my attention, and it felt damn good to see Tommy again. He entered with his mother in tow, and I left my station to go greet them.

“Hey, little man! It’s been a minute. Where ya been?” I bumped his fist.

“We’re staying with Grampa now!” he replied with a toothless grin.

“That’s awesome.” I shifted my attention to Monica and gave her shoulder a brief squeeze. “It’s good to see you, hon. Did you get that job?”

She smiled tiredly, relief visible in her eyes. “I did, thank fuck. I start next week.”

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