Page 29 of Falling for the Grumpy Bad Boy

10

CLEMENTINE

Iwas absolutely exhausted by the end of the dinner service, but it was the good kind of tired that came from a job well done. The kind of bone-deep weariness that felt like an accomplishment rather than a burden.

The evening had gone beautifully. Well, mostly. Yes, the few hiccups in the kitchen were uncomfortable, but it worked out okay. I didn’t really care if Rhett didn’t like me. But I did feel like I should apologize for mouthing off earlier.

I knew that kind of behavior wasn’t typically tolerated in any kitchen. Not even my dad would have been okay with that little outburst.

But the girl was about to cry. That was not cool. I had been in her shoes more than once. I had dropped plenty of things in my lifetime. No one got to make anyone feel small when I was around.

Even with that little hiccup, every single guest had left with full bellies and grateful smiles. The staff had pulled together under pressure, and somehow we had managed to serve two hundred and fifty people without a single major disaster. My hands were stained with tomato sauce and my feet ached from standing for hours, but I felt more alive than I had in months.

And it was totally worth the stress to get to watch Chef Rhett in the kitchen. Yes, he barked at me a few times but it didn’t matter. I got to watch him work. That was worth getting scolded here and there.

The dining room was finally quiet, the last of the guests having departed with warm hugs from Gineva and promises to return when the restaurant reopened for regular service tomorrow. The servers had finished their closing duties and headed home, leaving just the core team to handle the final cleanup.

I was wiping down the last of the prep surfaces when I heard Rhett’s voice coming from the office even through the closed door. The man was loud. Not on purpose. It was just his tone. It commanded a room.

He was on the phone with Simone, who was still at the hospital with Conroy, and from the sound of his side of the conversation, the news wasn’t good.

“What do you mean, permanently?” he said. I could hear the frustration. “It’s just a few stitches, right? How bad could it be?”

A pause. “Torn ligaments? Fuck. How long?”

Another pause, longer this time.

“Six to eight weeks minimum. Fuck, Simone. The entire tour is scheduled around his skill set. I can’t just… No, I understand it’s not his fault, but that doesn’t solve our problem.”

It was a disaster for Rhett. He was losing his key team member on the very first night of a month-long tour that had taken months to plan and coordinate. No wonder he sounded like he was ready to punch something.

And after spending some time in the kitchen with him, I understood why he wanted his right-hand man with him. His team knew him. I had worked in a few kitchens. There was always a lot of talking. But not in Rhett’s kitchen. People knew what was expected. His voice was really the only one anybody heard.

I decided to give him some space to process the bad news and figure out his next move. The man was clearly dealing with enough stress without having to manage my presence on top of everything else. I knew he didn’t like me. The incident at the dinner last week was long forgotten. He had shown up for me but that was over.

I was a pain in his ass now.

I made my way back out to the dining room, where Gineva was sitting at one of the corner tables with a basket of silverware and a stack of linen napkins. She was methodically rolling and organizing place settings for tomorrow’s regular service. It was the kind of repetitive task that probably helped her wind down after a busy evening.

I slid into the chair opposite her. “I’ll help.”

“Go home, bella. You’ve done more than enough for one night.”

“I don’t mind,” I replied. “Besides, I’m too wired to sleep right now. Might as well make myself useful.”

She smiled and passed me a handful of forks. “It takes time to come down from a big service like that.”

I nodded, finding something soothing in the simple, repetitive motions of rolling silverware. My hands moved automatically while my mind processed everything that had happened over the past few hours. I knew I should go home, but I wasn’t ready to leave just yet. Maybe I was hoping to catch a glimpse of Rhett because clearly I was a glutton for punishment. I was pushing my luck by staying in his line of fire.

But I did it anyway. All because I had this idea he was going to walk in and tell me I did a great job and he admired me and wanted to take me to bed.

“Tell me about this place,” I blurted out. I had to distract myself from those dangerous thoughts.

“My parents came here from Rome. They wanted to create something that would help other Italian families feel connected to home, you know. They missed the food and the family bonding over food.”

She gestured around the dining room with obvious pride. “Look what they built. This place has seen everything. First dates, marriage proposals, anniversary dinners, birthday parties for children who are now bringing their own children here. Dozens of people in our community have found love under this very roof.”

“Really?” I asked, intrigued by the romantic notion.