Page 14 of Sinfully Shameless Chef

Motherfucker.

I stalk back to my car, wrench open the door, and slide in, letting the door slam behind me.

It truly isn’t in my nature to battle with anyone. I have enough battles in my life without that, but he seems intent on ruining my day and my business.

And there’s nothing I can do about it.

I shift the car into drive and have to circle three more blocks before finding a different parking spot. Of course, by the time I walk back to the restaurant, he's MIA from the lounge chair, but it still sits blocking the spaces.

If I threw it on the sidewalk to open the parking, someone else would just slip in and take it before I could get back since people don’t give a shit about loading zones around here. And if I walk all the way back to my car and drive over here to do it, Jameson would undoubtedly be right back to interfere.

Jerk. Jerk. Handsome fucking jerk.

The door to his restaurant stands open, and his deep, smooth voice drifts out. I shouldn't eavesdrop, but if I have any chance of winning against a guy like him, I might have to play dirty.

I stop outside the door and press my back to the brick just to the side to ensure he can't see me, but I can still hear.

“Is there any way we can get that here sooner?” The frustration comes through in Jameson’s question. The man is annoyed, which brings an unnatural amount of happiness to my heart.

“Unfortunately, not. Our supplier says it’s on backorder. Some production issue.”

I don’t recognize the other voice, but it must be the contractor for his build-out or someone he ordered equipment from.

“Shit. Can we cancel the order and you get one from somewhere else?”

“Not that model. Everywhere is sold out.”

“What about a used model from another kitchen? A restaurant that closed? I don’t even mind used at this point.”

“I already checked. None available.”

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Jameson sounds pissed.

Good.

Any delay in his plan is only going to help me with mine. The determination to get Grandma’s Kitchen open before his restaurant does has kicked into overdrive. I just have to be careful not to overdo it, or I’ll end up with a major health setback that will only help him win.

I rush past the door to unlock mine and slip inside.

Butterflies still dance in my stomach at the realization that this place is mine. All mine. Growing up, I never could've imagined this when I was using my Easy-Bake Oven and stirring whatever was on the stove with Grams. But now, my dream is finally coming true.

If I can only figure out a way to stop Jameson Fury.

4

IZZY

Taking a sip of my coffee, I review Anna’s resumé again, scanning her previous employers and experience even though I’m already confident she’s what I’m looking for. After almost a week of dodging Jameson and getting here before the sun comes up to ensure I can park, coffee is the only thing keeping me running. That and the joy of hearing him arrive and knowing I got here first.

Thwarting his plans feels good, even if it is a small victory in the grand scheme of things.

And although it’s a bit early to be hiring people, since it will likely be six weeks at the very least before I can open, I’m going to need help getting things set up. At least one or two trusty employees I can count on. People who can have my back the way Grams always did.

Days of looking through resumés have left my tired eyes itchy and sore, but finally having a great candidate sitting right in front of me feels like a massive step forward toward getting this place up and running.

I glance up and grin at Anna. “Your resumé is perfect. I can’t believe you’re available and want to work in a small upstart like mine.”

She smiles back at me, her soft-blue eyes twinkling in the early morning light streaming in from the windows in the back of the restaurant. “I like it.” She shrugs. “I’ve worked at a lot of super-busy high-end restaurants, and it always burns me out. My current job is stressful as hell. This should be a little bit quieter.”

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