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A frown creased his forehead as he made the note.
“How is she doing?” Janey paused to lay her hand on Hoyt’s shoulder. He’d lost his father in Iraq several years before, and now, with his mother’s illness, the young man seemed more worn with each passing week.
“Her medication seems to be working better. ” He gave her a thankful smile. “Hopefully, she’ll rest this week. ”
“I hope so . . . ”
“Janey, this simply will not do. ” Desmond was rushing from the kitchen, a frown on his dark Italian face, his brown eyes snapping with ire as he waved a limp stalk of celery in her face. “This produce is inferior. ”
“Call Faisal’s cell. He’s at the grocery. ” Her lips tightened at the sight of the celery. “I’ll call the produce company in the morning and take care of it. ”
Desmond’s lips thinned. “You will call a different produce company and demand a quality product,” he ordered her. “This company, they do not know quality and deliberately give us their worst. ”
Story of her life.
“I’ll take care of it in the morning, but produce could be later arriving in the day,” she warned him.
“Rather later than this inferiority. ” Desmond raged as he turned back to the kitchen. “I have had enough of this. I will call a produce provider. ” He threw her a furious look over her shoulder. “You are too nice.
You do not yell when you need to. I will take care of this. ”
Janey sighed, shaking her head before turning back to the register counter and smiling at Hoyt. “He’s probably right. ”
“Probably. ” Hoyt’s smile was tentative.
She returned to the tables, preparing for the dinner crowd, knowing exactly why she was getting inferior produce from the local vendors. Maybe she should talk to Natches about it, but he had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with the restaurant. He’d just as soon see it burn to the ground.
Besides, she had promised herself she would fight her own battles; Natches had fought enough of them when she was younger, and he had the scars to prove it.
“I’m here, Miss Mackay. ” Tabitha rushed in the door and moved quickly to the waitresses’ station for her apron and to assess where she was needed the most.
From there, the restaurant was so busy, jumping from minute to minute as each of them fought to keep up with the crowd, that there was little time to think, or to consider the mess she had gotten herself into with Alex.
He’d worked her, her brother, and her cousins. She’d realized that over the past several nights, as he worked at his laptop at the table or disappeared into the room she had given him. He was still working her. Those dark, heated glances, the promise in his eyes that he was merely biding his time, that she hadn’t quite escaped him yet.
“Janey, table fifteen has been overbooked. ” Hoyt rushed up to her, a frown on his face, several hours later. “The customers are lingering over desserts and the next reservation has arrived. ”
“Charge the table a fifteen-dollar overstay fee,” she told him in frustration. “They know the rules. The reservation is for an hour and a half only unless they reserve for more. Have Tabitha prepare the extra table in section two and seat the others there. ”
She hated being forced to set up the extra tables. It added to the hostessing and waitressing duties, and once the table was there, they had to continue to fill it, otherwise word would get around that they turned away customers when there was an extra table.
She glanced to table fifteen and sighed at the couple there. They invariably kept their table longer and then protested the fee loudly. Tabitha would likely get shortchanged on her tip as well.
Shaking her head, she gathered menus for the additional table and approached the older couple, Charlene and Don Finmore. Don was on the city council and had once been a friend of Dayle Mackay’s.
At least, he had thought he was. He’d had no idea how Dayle had used him until it was over and the news of Dayle’s arrest had come out.
“Charlene. Don. ” She smiled back at them as they rose from the upholstered, padded bench in the
waiting area. “You’re table’s ready if you’ll follow me. ”
Don was older, in his sixties. Charlene was close to his age, and Janey knew this was their anniversary dinner.
“Happy anniversary. ” She smiled over shoulder. “Forty years, isn’t it?”
Charlene’s pleased smile came and went quickly. “How did you know?” She asked suspiciously as Janey seated them and Tabitha moved forward.
“Charlene, I’ve known you two since I was a little girl,” she reminded them. “Of course I remembered your anniversary. I was allowed to attend one of the parties you gave when I was a teenager, remember?”
