Page 4 of Baby, Be Mine

“Won’t hear me complaining until Henry skins me alive for not checking everything over. Let’s make sure we’re almost as good.”

Brad handed me the order. “Works for me. You’re way nicer.”

I took it. “Thanks. I think.” I skimmed the list with a sigh. This wasn’t going to be quick.

In the end, I only had to turn away half a bushel of Brussels sprouts that looked anemic even to my untrained eye. But it put me another forty-five minutes behind.

I thanked Brad and together, we wrestled the pallet through the double doors to the chiller. Brad released the jack and gave me a genial salute before the squeaky wheels clattered over the tracks of the large walk-in fridge.

He whistled as he made his way back to the truck and pulled away.

I closed up the chiller and ran into Henry in the hallway. His spiky blond hair stuck out from the wide bandana he wore in lieu of a chef’s hat. “What are you doing back here?”

“I need food to actually cook.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. Henry never fetched his own product. “You just don’t trust my check-in.”

“Nope.” He pushed by me and swung open the door.

I shook my head. Part of why I put up with Henry was because he was damn good at his job. Even if he was pissed off more than half the time. I pushed my way through the kitchen door back out to the dining room.

I was on my way up the stairs to the next level when Gillian called my name. I paused on the stairs and forced myself to unclench my fingers.

“Are you the one who authorized someone to call me in?”

I turned. “As you can see from the full tables, we needed you.”

“Then I want Friday off.”

“If you can find someone to cover, by all means.”

“I have a date.” She tipped her chin up, somehow staring down her nose at me even though I was halfway up the stairs.

“Good for you.”

“You’re impossible.” She rolled her eyes and stormed off.

I sighed as I turned back around and caught Emmaline’s gaze. Her mouth was quirked up at the corner and she stared me dead in the eye, completely unashamed at overhearing us. I got to the top of the stairs and before I could get to the bar, Esther waved me down.

“Sorry, guys. It was supposed to be a slow Monday.” I tapped the bar, then noticed Emmaline rubbing her side. I frowned, but before I could ask if she was all right, Esther rushed over.

“Mason, I can’t get the awning to open.”

“Right. Coming.” I glanced back at Emmaline one more time, but the bar blocked her. I rushed out the back door to the second level patio. It was scorching hot and the awning that shaded most of the deck was stuck at half-mast.

Perfect.

It was made of metal and canvas and sturdy as hell. I rushed to the control box and heard the hum of the motor grinding.

“I think it’s jammed.” Esther’s dark cap of hair stuck to her temples as she tried to pull the arm out.

“It’s okay.” I smiled at a pair of ladies sitting in the spare spot of shade. “Would you mind standing up for just a second? We’ll have you nice and shaded in just a jif.”

The older woman stood and gathered her things. “It’s a hot one.”

“That it is. How about we send you over one of our wine slushes on the house?”

“Oh.” The woman laid a hand on her chest. “Well, that would be lovely. Connie, what do you say?”

---