Page 22 of Jesse
I laughed, shaking my head as I scrubbed my hands over my face.
“Come on. Let’s finish this rush,” I said.
Jesse gave me a small smile, clapped me on the shoulder, and headed back into the truck. I followed, bracing myself for the chaos.
As the orders piled up, I started to notice something: Jesse’s method of grouping similar orders was… working.
At first, I hated it. So different from the way I did things. But now, I could see how it sped things up, clearing the line faster.
Maybe it was his restaurant background. His smaller menu made sense too. Fewer items meant faster turnaround.
And even though his presentation wasn’t always consistent, it gave me an unexpected insight.
Customers gravitated toward certain variations of dishes. I made a mental note to tweak some of the recipes for future menus.
By the end of the day, the tension from earlier had mostly dissolved.
“That’s the last one!” Jesse announced, wiping his hands on a towel and tossing it onto the counter. “We survived.”
“Barely,” I muttered, but I couldn’t help smiling.
As we started cleaning up, Jesse shot me a quick sideways glance, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“So, was it the bell peppers or my ‘chaotic genius’ that saved the day?” Jesse asked.
I rolled my eyes, tossing him a damp rag. “Honestly, it’s a miracle the customers didn’t mind. A hungry crowd will eat anything.”
Jesse chuckled, catching the rag with ease. “Harsh. Real harsh.”
We worked in silence for a while, scrubbing counters and restocking supplies, until a voice crackled over the fair’s loudspeakers.
“Attention food truck vendors,” the announcer said. “Please gather at the main square for a brief announcement. Thank you.”
Jesse and I exchanged a look, then headed over together, falling in step with the other food truck owners.
At the square, the fair organizer stood on a makeshift stage, holding a microphone.
“Thank you all for an incredible first day of the festival,” she began, her voice carrying over the murmuring crowd. “We appreciate your dedication and the delicious food you’ve shared with everyone here.”
She paused, her expression momentarily serious.
“We also want to acknowledge the unexpected circumstances earlier this week. Thank you for your patience and understanding as we worked to address them. But now, we’re back on track, and the first round of the food truck competition will begin in two days.”
There was a ripple of excitement through the crowd, mixed with hushed murmurs.
“The rules are simple,” she continued. “Ten food trucks will compete, and at the end of the round, the five trucks with the highest sales will advance to the finals. There will also be one fan-voted favorite, which guarantees a spot in the next round. Unfortunately, those who don’t make it to the finals will have to pack up and stop selling for the rest of the festival. So make sureto show plenty of love and support for your favorite if you want to see them keep cooking!”
I felt a surge of confidence as I turned to Jesse. His grin was as smug as ever.
“We’ve got this,” he said, giving me a quick nudge.
I nodded. “Yeah. We do.”
We had to win. Staying in the competition meant staying on the festival grounds, where we’d have a better chance of catching whoever attacked Preston. But I wasn’t worried.
Our styles clashed at first, but somewhere along the line, we’d found a rhythm.
Sales had been strong today, and the crowd had loved our food. I’d bet we’d land in the top three, no question.
