Page 33 of Baby, Be Mine

“Stupid rule.” She popped out of the chair. “Anyway, I want in on helping with MJ2.” Before I could open my mouth, she held her hand up. “You can’t do both and until you hire someone, I want to help.”

Deflated, I nodded. “Fine. I’ll need you on Friday.”

She winced. The perks of her seniority on the staff was that she was off every other Friday—which was our busiest day.

“I’ll be here.”

“All right. Hold down the fort. I’m heading out for a bit.”

She frowned. “Where are you going?”

“I have a few errands.”

“What kind of errands?”

“The kind that are out of the restaurant.” I stood up and ushered her to the door. “I’ll be back before the dinner rush.”

She tossed a hostile look over her shoulder and stormed down the hall. I followed her at a slower pace, stopping in at the kitchen.

Jackie was manning the late lunch shift. She was my chef’s second in command and had come with him from the restaurant in Syracuse. They’d been a package deal and more than worth the cost of the both of them.

“Hey, what are the specials today?”

She looked up. Her festive cap was covered with dancing koi fish and sharks, which hid her red curls. The ties at the back fluttered as she rushed around the kitchen, plating a half dozen entrées as well as manning the grill.

“Mac and cheese with barbecue pork, seared tuna, and…” She trailed off and turned back to the stove to flip something. A hiss of steam rose up and the scent of marinated chicken filled the air. “Grilled lime chicken over spring greens.”

“Can you make me a triple order of the grilled lime and pack it separate as well as the mac and cheese and separate the meat in case they don’t do meat.”

“Who the hell doesn’t do meat?” Jackie asked with a sneer.

“Plenty of people and you know it.”

She sneered. “Whatever. But yes. To go?”

“Yes.”

“Give me fifteen.” She nodded to the string bean looking kid that had just started. “Mitzy, can you pack up an extra-large salad?”

“It’s Matteo.”

Jackie shrugged. “Whatever. If you last two weeks, I’ll learn your name. Chop, chop, Muffy.”

The kid sighed, but he loped off toward the large walk-in cooler without complaint.

“Gotta be so hard on him?”

She quickly shuffled three pans around on the six burner stove. “Gets him moving and trying harder, doesn’t it?”

I shook my head. I’d never understand the biting and tense temperature in the kitchen, but it worked for them and I knew my role. “I’ll stop back in. Thanks, Jackie.”

“You got it.”

I headed into the main dining room. Gillian spotted me and turned on her heel to go out to the patio, shouting at one of the bussers.

“What crawled up her ass?” Stef asked.

Esther shrugged. “Wind blew west instead of east?”

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