Page 6 of Reckless
Right. Because just what her blush needed was more fuel.
“Oh. I guess time really flies, huh?” He tried on another smile, this one all sweet talk, and God, some things never changed. “Anyway, you might be able to help me out. I guess I’m looking for your boss.”
“My who?”
Alex pointed toward the painted cinderblock wall that the soup kitchen shared with the shelter. “The only door that was open when I got here was the one to the shelter. The lady behind the desk walked me through the security doors and told me to wait here for the director of the soup kitchen. It’s kind of a long story, but I got stuck with this stupid community service assignment because of an even more stupid work thing, and this was the first available placement. To be honest, I just want to get it over with.” He tipped his head at her, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans like no great shakes. “What’d you do to land here, anyway?”
Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.Of all the possible community service assignments in the galaxy, this one took the freaking crown. She might not have clapped eyes on Alex Donovan since she’d made a colossal idiot out of herself in front of him at the Fairview Fire Department annual barbecue five years ago, but clearly, he hadn’t broken the firefighter mold, and she’d been around Station Eight enough to know his reputation by heart. Alex flew by the seat of his bunker pants twenty-four/seven, taking unnecessary risks the way most people took Motrin.
Not happening in her soup kitchen. She might be understaffed, but she wasn’t overstupid.
“The way I landed here was simple, actually,” Zoe said, knotting her arms over her chest tight enough to test the seams of her T-shirt. “I interviewed for the position as director and I got the job.”
The silence extended between them for a beat, then two, before… “Wait.You’rethe director of the soup kitchen? As in, you run the whole program? I thought you went to some five-star culinary school.” Alex stared at her over the glass and stainless steel food service counter, and at least she’d found the antidote to his smirk.
“Surprise. But don’t worry. You won’t be stuck with thisstupidcommunity service assignment for long.”
Her pulse kicked into motion along with her feet, and she angled herself toward the darkly shadowed hallway leading to the pass-through to the shelter. With any luck, Tina would get to work early and could send his arrogant ass packing before Zoe served her first cup of coffee.
“Zoe, wait.” Alex’s long legs ate up the space between them before she could even make it halfway to the dining room door. “I think we got off on the wrong foot here.”
She gave him a tight smile without breaking stride. “At least being a firefighter has kept your observational skills sharp.”
His shoulders snapped into an unyielding knot, his stare flashing cool blue as he kept up with her, step for step. “You want to know what else I picked up with my keen observational skills? You’re in here by yourself, Gorgeous. And that tells me that like it or not, you need all the help you can get to run this place.”
Zoe’s gut took a downhill slide toward her hips, and she froze mid-pace on the threshold of the shadow-lined hallway. “Help from someone who isn’t serious about being here isn’t going tohelpat all.”
“Oh, I’m absolutely serious,” Alex said, triggering a borderline unladylike snort from her lips.
“You fell asleep on the job before you even started, then you called your assignment in the program I started from scratch ‘stupid.’ As far as I’m concerned, that makes you about as serious as a tabloid headline, no matter how short-staffed I happen to be.”
One corner of his mouth lifted upward, disappearing briefly beneath his golden-brown stubble before he folded his lips back to neutral-expression territory. “Look, you and I might not see eye to eye on the value of community service, but I can promise you this. I’m as determined to do my job as you are to do yours. The city sent me here for a reason. I can’t go back to Station Eight until I do my time, and you need a volunteer. So, are we going to help each other out here, or what?”
Zoe opened her mouth, her own personal version ofor whatpreloaded and ready to launch from her tongue. But if there was one rule she lived by above everything else, it was not putting what mattered most at risk, and what mattered most was feeding the residents at Hope House. As much as she knew firefighters—especiallyones like Alex Donovan—were nothing but a great, big recipe for disaster, Zoe needed him.
And that meant she had no choice but to spend the next four weeks with the arrogant, impulsive firefighter in her kitchen and under her skin.
“Fine. But let’s get one thing perfectly clear. There’s no freelancing on this job. I run a tight kitchen with even tighter rules.”
But rather than argue, Alex laughed long and loud, the sound sizzling all the way through her as he said, “Funny. That doesn’t surprise me one bit.”
“Oh.” She swallowed hard, wondering how she’d managed to carve out top honors at one of the most prestigious culinary schools on the East Coast but couldn’t come up with anything more intelligent than a single syllable to cover up the heat in her blood or the shock in her chest. “Well, you can hang your jacket in the back. We’ve got a ton of work to do before the other volunteers get here to serve breakfast, and we’re already behind.”
Sixty seconds later, Alex pushed his way back through the swinging doors from the kitchen, and the gray T-shirt hugging his every last muscle did nothing to bump her vocabulary out of the range of pure idiocy. God, had she learned nothing at that barbecue five years ago?
“You didn’t grab an apron,” Zoe managed, gesturing to the swath of white cotton knotted around her waist.
“They’re not part of the rules, are they?” Although he kept his expression mostly cool, the challenge edging his deep blue stare was just visible enough to blot out the last of the weird shot of warmth she’d felt at his laugh.
“No.” It figured he’d start by pushing his luck. “But the kitchen gets pretty messy. You’re probably going to want one.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“I’ll bet.” Zoe reached into one of the stainless steel utility drawers behind the counter, unearthing a black three-ring binder and propping it open between them. “This is Hope House’s kitchen manual. There’s another copy in the back, by the pantry, and a downloadable PDF online. It’s got separate sections for delivery guidelines, kitchen tasks and procedures, and step by step directions for breakfast, lunch, and dinner service, with house rules in the front of the book and all the health department regulations in the back.”
Alex’s brows traveled up his forehead. “This has to be three hundred pages all told.”
“Welcome to running a nonprofit. We have a lot of guidelines. I’ll walk you through most of the work today, but breakfast starts in”—she flipped her wrist to get a glimpse of her watch, and ugh, this was going to take an act of God wrapped up in a winning lottery ticket and sealed with a get out of jail free card. “Fifty-six minutes, so we’re going to need to go fast.”
