Page 22 of Kyle

Pulling out my phone, I shoot her a text.

ME: WHERE ARE YOU?

SUTTON: I’M COMING.

ME: YOU MUST BE THINKING OF ME THEN

SUTTON: HA HA.

ME: WELL HURRY YOUR ASS UP

SUTTON: I’LL BE THERE IN A MINUTE. AND DON’T PUT THAT DISGUSTING SPICE IN THE CHICKEN CHILI BY MISTAKE

ME: YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME. I’LL DO WHAT I WANT

SUTTON: THEN YOU’LL RUIN IT AND DRIVE ALL YOUR CUSTOMERS AWAY. THEY MAY EVEN TURN YOUR TRUCK OVER IN PROTEST

ME: YOU’RE HILARIOUS. IF ONLY YOUR COOKING WAS AS GOOD AS YOUR JOKES

SUTTON: ARE YOU CALLING ME A BAD EMPLOYEE. OH, IT’S ON.

ME: NO, IT'S NOT.

SUTTON: OH, IT’S ON LIKE DONKEY KONG

ME: YOU’RE A WEIRDO. I’VE GOT TO GO. I HAVE CUSTOMERS WHO LOVE MY CHICKEN CHILI. THERE’S A LINE.

SUTTON: THANKS TO ME

ME: TRUE

I grin, tuck my phone away, and get to work. The smile stays on my face. It’s hard to be in a bad mood around Sutton, even with the stress of keeping up with the line or when something goes wrong behind the grill.

She shows up five minutes after our text exchange, and we work side-by-side, but not too close. I keep my distance because the smell of her is driving me wild. At one point, she takes a picture of the line and then taps away on her phone.

“What are you doing? Get back to work, slacker.”

“I’m posting the picture of the line and telling everyone to come on down for some delicious chicken chili.”

“Oh. Why would you want to post there’s a line they’ll have to wait in?”

“It’s called social proof. It tells them that if others like it, so will they.”

“So, now you’re my marketing expert?”

“Yep. I need a raise.”

“We haven’t broken even yet.”

Her shoulders wilt. “We haven’t?”

“You think all this is cheap? It costs money.” I start ticking a list off on my fingers. “There’s the loan I’m paying on the truck. Permits. Parking fees. Insurance. Food. Fuel.”

“Okay, okay. I guess I’ll have to post more often. I’ve got to come up with something that goes viral. Maybe you could do a handstand. Oh, can you do a backflip? Maybe shirtless?”

I roll my eyes and point with my tongs. “Get back to work.”

I may sound tough, but I grin when she turns away.

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