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“How are you going to stop me?”

Saxon didn’t bother pointing out he had nowhere to go. That would just get the other man’s back up or make him think he’d offered this job out of sympathy or charity. Why was it that everyone had gotten so sensitive about him trying to help them?

Things would go much smoother if people just did as he told them to. He was usually right, after all.

“You took the job and you’re going to see it through. You have complete autonomy over the menu. You have more responsibility and benefits than you’d have in any other job.”

The other man just snorted. But he didn’t make a move to leave. He knew Saxon spoke the truth. Besides, it wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go. Or that anyone else would take him on. He’d been fired from his last five jobs. He didn’t exactly have a good track record.

“But you have got to learn how to get on with other staff.”

“Don’t see why we need a dessert menu.”

“Some people actually like something sweet after a meal,” he pointed out in a reasonable voice. He couldn’t believe he was arguing the merits of eating dessert. He didn’t have time for this. “You’re going to have to learn how to work with someone else in your kitchen. And there will be wait staff as well. If you can’t, then this restaurant is going nowhere.”

“Fine. Bring me someone who isn’t a complete pain in the ass, with at least a modicum of talent, and the understanding that, in here, I’m in charge, and I won’t scare them off.”

“Don’t ask for much, do you?” Saxon asked dryly.

But Renard had already turned back to his sauce, and Saxon knew he might as well be talking to himself. With a shake of his head, wondering how he’d gotten himself into this situation, he turned and left.

Time to get some actual work done—without being distracted by a temperamental chef and a raven-haired sprite.

Some bastard had stolen her car.

Aspen stared with disbelief at the spot where her car had been parked. Who the hell would steal her piece of crap car? Unbelievable. How had they even gotten it started? And what was she going to do now? It wasn’t like it had been insured. She didn’t have the money for that and it hadn’t even been worth anything. Other than to her.

Exhaustion weighed her down as she stared at the empty space. Yesterday had been her day off, so she’d been forced to leave her car here, hoping that when she managed to get herself into town it would somehow be magically fixed. This morning she’d set out on foot early, grateful when an older couple had pulled over and picked her up. Now she had about an hour before her shift started, so she’d come out to see what could be done about her car. She needed it for work. She couldn’t keep hitching rides or walking. And she couldn’t afford to rent a place closer to town.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” She ran her hand over her face.

“Hey, Aspen, everything okay?”

She looked over, spotting Laken Jones standing a few feet away. Concern filled the other woman’s pretty face. Aspen didn’t know her well, but she’d always been nice to her when she was in the diner. And her husband, Duncan, was a great tipper.

“Sure, everything’s fine,” she said automatically. She wasn’t used to sharing her problems with anyone.

“Don’t take this the wrong way but you don’t look like everything is okay.”

In the face of Laken’s concern, it was very hard to keep her worries to herself. “I left my car here.”

Laken looked momentarily confused as she stared at the empty parking spot. Then her face cleared. “Someone stole your car?”

She nodded. “Only I don’t know how. It had broken down, which is why I left it here. Why would anyone take it? It’s not worth anything.”

Laken sighed. “Who knows? Maybe it was teenagers playing around. Come with me into the shop and have a cup of tea, and I’ll call Duncan.”

She’d taken a step back before she realized it, shaking her head. “Oh, no, I need to go to work.”

“I’m sure Peggy will understand if you’re a little late under these circumstances. And we need to call the police. If nothing else, you’ll want the police report for insurance purposes.”

Sure, that would make sense—if she had insurance.

She licked her lips.

“If you really need to go, I can tell Duncan to come to the diner.”

She shook her head. “No, don’t do that.” The last thing she needed was him turning up there. As nice as Peggy was, she surely wouldn’t appreciate Aspen bringing any trouble to the diner. And that’s what she brought with her wherever she went—trouble.

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