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This was getting out of hand, but nothing was being said that was that horrible. “It’s that or look pudgy with all the food I eat that I make.”
“I’m not pudgy,” Beth said, turning and sticking her chest out some. “I taste my food too. We burn it off in the heat back here sweating half the time.”
“Someone is coming tomorrow to look at the AC.”
“See,” Beth said. “Nice. Not everyone cares that much. It works.”
“It does work, but it’s not working well enough. I don’t need someone passing out back here because of heat stroke.”
It was warm this week and though the dining area was staying nice and cool, the kitchen wasn’t. And on top of not wanting his staff to feel ill, he didn’t want the heat from the kitchen moving to where his customers would feel it.
People went out to eat to not have to cook a lot in the heat. They sure the hell didn’t want to sit in a restaurant where it was hot.
“Nice again,” Beth said, winking at him.
“We need to get these orders out,” he said and hoped that stopped the conversation for now.
When things slowed down a few hours later, he took a quick break and went to his office. He found his phone in his hand and was texting Hadley, but she didn’t answer.
He wasn’t sure what her plans were tonight. Maybe she was with her parents. Or she could be running errands.
Could be walking the beach.
It was only eight and still light out.
He’d be closing in an hour and there was part of him that wanted to go see her, but he wouldn’t ask either.
He was just glad he was working tonight when they closed at nine and not the next two nights that were open until ten.
Not that it mattered. He’d be at Duke’s those nights and was open until ten.
It wasn’t just Hadley that had to figure things out, but maybe he did too.
27
Extra Touch
The following Friday, Hadley showed up with her parents for dinner at Duke’s. She texted him they were coming. It was a last minute thing. She’d worked until seven and then gone home and changed. They decided on a late dinner and it’d be past eight by the time they got here.
He’d told her that he’d like her to come home with him if she wanted to wait. He was surprised he’d offered that to her, which meant she’d have to wait at the restaurant for him.
She’d sit at the bar and have a drink. He’d clean up and get out of there earlier if he could, but he just wanted to spend the time with her.
It felt like their dates were so few and far between.
They saw each other in the mornings or at Southside more than anything.
Maybe if they lived together it’d be different. Yes, it would be.
But it’s not like that was anywhere near in his head at the moment either.
He continued to work the crowd. He’d made sure there were reservations for the Breatons at eight thirty so they didn’t have to wait.
He did have to have things shuffled around. It wasn’t the first time things like this were done to accommodate someone, and the truth was, by then it was slowing down anyway.
By eight forty-five he knew that they were in the restaurant and the order had been placed. He remembered what table they’d be at and he saw the three orders come up that he’d make himself.
He’d joked that he’d make something special for her and he grabbed a tomato and cut it into a flower and put it on top of her pasta dish. She’d know what it was and would laugh. Someone else might see it too but maybe not. Not with as fast as the food was flying out the door.
