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“Sorry. Mark isn’t going to help you this time, bud.”
Chapter Four
Finn paced the lounge of Carmel. Veronica would be here any minute to drop off Cal. What were the odds the kid would show up without a big chip on his shoulder?
Finn had briefed his staff last night about the new addition to the kitchen. Luckily, his employees were accommodating. They all had the same spirit of helping each other and welcoming new staff. They were a family.
His sous chef, Chris Landry, sidled up behind him. “So, does this kid you hired have good references?” When Finn didn’t respond, Chris groaned. “Shit. He doesn’t have any references, does he?”
Finn turned and acknowledged with a quirk of his eyebrow.
“Boss.” Chris tugged at the sides of his chef jacket. It hung open, revealing his black T-shirt. “I thought Cole was the one who took in strays. Part of the reason why I work here with you and not for him.”
Finn’s brother Cole Murphy was the “socially enlightened” one in the family, and usually hired graduates from the Cooking for the Future program to staff his restaurant’s kitchen. Luckily for Cole, the kids always worked out—or they wouldn’t have graduated.
Finn’s protective mode kicked in. “He’s not a stray.”
“Is he at least in your program?” Chris slid the black buttons of his jacket through the slits, the hideous scar on his left hand still visible. Five years ago, he’d burned himself with hot oil. The smell of burning flesh still sizzled in Finn’s nostrils even after all this time, whenever he saw that scar.
“Cal’s a friend of the family and he needs the discipline,” Finn explained. “So I need you to be on board. No favors. No leniency.”
Chris rubbed his hands together. “Well, if that’s the case, this might be fun.”
Late afternoon sunlight burst into the restaurant as the front door opened. Through the opaque glass, Finn saw the silhouettes of Veronica and Cal.
She stuck her head around the wall and peered into the lounge. She smiled when she caught sight of him. “Hi, Finn.”
“You’re right on time,” he said. He mentally cringed. He sounded like an ass. Especially since they weren’t on time. They were ten minutes late.
The kid was stone-faced, which only confirmed that Finn was trying too hard. Cal’s shoulders slumped forward—no doubt weighed down by the enormous chip he’d placed there the moment he walked through Carmel’s front door.
Finn needed to get hold of himself. He knew this kid. He’d interacted with him for years.
Veronica maneuvered between the tables toward him. “I couldn’t let your newest employee be late on his first day.”
The closer they got, the more twitchy Chris became beside him. He ran his hands through his black hair. He fingered his chin then tapped his nose. All the while his eyes were fixated on Veronica. What the hell?
They stood across from each other on opposite sides of a brown coffee table, which provided an excellent buffer between them.
Veronica elbowed Cal. He held out the manila envelope Finn had had given her yesterday. “It’s all there,” the kid muttered. “Job application. Emergency and medical information.”
“Thanks, Cal.”
The kid shrugged. “Veronica filled it out.”
“Have we met before?” Chris asked, staring at Veronica with a confused, yet excited, look.
Finn panicked. Of course. Chris might recognize her from the burlesque show. They had been sitting in the front row and Veronica’s performance hadn’t disguised her very well. Finn wondered if she realized Chris had been the same person who’d sat next to him at the show.
“Yes, maybe once or twice. In this restaurant.” She fidgeted and slipped her arm through Cal’s, blocking most of her body. She had clearly become uncomfortable with Chris’s stare. Cal straightened, his arm moving across her body in protection mode.
“No…” Chris tapped his chin. “I can’t put my finger on it. Did you—”
Finn clapped his hands together. “We should probably get started.”
“Right.” She squeezed Cal’s arm. “I’m sure you have lots of chef things to do.”
She made eye contact with Cal, and Finn could have sworn he saw her mouth, “Be nice,” before she turned and walked out the front door. He didn’t know why, but he had been hoping for a cue. Anything to let him know she was still on board with their plans. Too much eye contact might have made things a bit obvious. But none at all? He was going to have to lay down some ground rules.
