Page 34 of Tasty Cherry

Maverick shrugs and takes another bite of his croissant.

Raya turns to the rest of us. “Most shifts last a whole week, but a few are only one or two days. Today, the rest of you will go in pairs. Brooklyn and Mila, you will be at the front desk to learn check-in procedures. Owen and Ilsa, we will start you with room service. There’s a system that moves an order to fulfillment.”

She taps on her phone. “Kennedy will come from room service, and Aisha will arrive from the front desk.”

Aisha. Oh, no. She’s the one who saw me with Sebastian yesterday. And it feels like the lobby is where I’m most likely to run into him.

I wish I were with room service. Or even the dish room. Folding towels sounds good, too.

Raya continues. “Next Monday, we will bring a certification team on site to administer the tests for food management. We want everyone in the program to be certified for all areas in case you need to pitch in. We have set aside Friday afternoon for a review. If you’re worried about passing, I recommend you study the materials over the weekend.”

Owen raises his hand. “If we have national certification, do we still need to do Colorado?”

“Yes,” she says. “Just to keep things neat and square. That way, we know everyone is up to date and when you need to renew.”

He nods.

Maverick has stopped eating his pastry, scowling into his coffee. He probably resents having to redo work he’s already done. Many hospitality programs require certification. It’s like Raya says, sometimes you have to pitch in, or if your certified food manager doesn’t show, you serve as the required one in the kitchen.

Not that I expect it would happen here. Probably everyone is certified.

A middle-aged Hispanic man in the same black pants and white shirt as us, but with a white apron rather than a vest, steps into the room.

“Ah, there’s Henry,” Raya says. “Maverick, he’ll take you to your station. If all goes well today, we’ll find another rotation for you tomorrow.”

His chair scoots back with a squeal. He stands up and leaves with Henry, not bothering to pick up his plate or cup.

Raya stares at it a moment, as if trying to compose herself. “If you all want to get ready, I’m sure Aisha and Kennedy will be here shortly.” She touches her tablet, and the screen lights up.

We stand and pick up our plates. Both Owen and Ilsa, who were seated on either side of Maverick, reach for his leftovers to clear.

“I’ve got this,” Owen says cordially.

But Ilsa grabs them. “No, I have it,” she hisses.

Brooklyn and I share a confused look. What’s going on here?

Owen shrugs, moving toward the end of the serving table where a plastic bin waits for our dishes.

Ilsa hovers over Maverick’s until Raya looks up, then makes a big show of stacking the extras.

“Oh, thank you for that, Ilsa,” Raya says.

So that’s why.

I head to the table to set my dishes in the bin. Brooklyn leans in. “So we have a slacker and a suck up among us.”

I nod.

A woman with wild red hair dashes in, a headset cocked back on her curls. “Morning is crazy. Who are my interns?”

“Those two,” Raya says, pointing to Ilsa and Owen.

“Let’s go,” she says. “I left Gina alone with the buzz board!”

The three of them hurry out.

Brooklyn and I wait by the door. Raya seems preoccupied, and I for one don’t want to rile her any more than Maverick already did. She’s a tough nut, for sure, and I wonder how she’d take the news that I slept with her boss and he proposed a secret relationship away from the hotel.

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