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I power walked back to the kitchen, where Nina gave me a frantic look as soon as she saw me.
“I know,” she said. “But the brownies needed to be frosted. You would have said the same thing.”
Nina was a thirty-six-year-old mom of two. She’d never been to culinary school, but she was more talented in the kitchen than many trained chefs. I was fortunate to have a right-hand woman who was both an outstanding cook and had a steady head.
“What can I do?” I asked as she poured sugar into a huge mixing bowl.
“Warm some blueberry sauce for the cheesecakes. Eli’s taking care of the coffee station in the conference room.”
We worked in silence, Nina prepping a big batch of creamy chocolate frosting and topping two huge trays of brownies with it while I warmed enough sauce for two New York–style cheesecakes.
“Priscilla sliced a cheesecake,” Nina said as she smoothed out the frosting on a batch of brownies. “She was trying to help. It’s in the walk-in. I’m sure we’ll go through all of it at dinner.”
The Minnesota Bigfoot Research Society Board of Directors was adamant that we not cut their desserts into servings because they said they felt “portion-shamed” when we did. There were fourteen people in the conference room, and they’d demolish every bite of the cheesecakes and brownies.
I put each cheesecake on a simple white pedestal and poured blueberry sauce over them, the sweet smell of the sauce making my stomach rumble.
It was ironic that I worked around delicious food all day and was lucky if I had time to make a quick ham sandwich for lunch.
Nina loaded the brownies onto the main shelf of a wheeled metal cart and I stacked plates, utensils and napkins on the bottom shelf.
“There’s no room for the cheesecakes,” she said. “I’ll get the other cart.”
She returned in a couple of minutes, looking confused. “The cart’s not there.”
“It’s okay, I’ll carry them.”
She gave me a skeptical look, her brow lowered. “Are you sure?”
“Yep. We have to get these into the Bigfoot guys before they revolt. These pedestals are easy to carry.”
We set off, Nina opening the double doors to the kitchen with her back and me carefully keeping them open with my back and easing out. After working in the kitchen for so long, we knew the potential pitfalls.
“Corner!” Nina called out, warning anyone on the other side of the corner that we were approaching with food in hand.
“Did you hear the fishing derby was moved from Monday to Tuesday next week?” Nina asked me.
“What? No.”
“Yeah, they haven’t called to tell us, but Ted told me this morning. They’re moving it because of Harold Fineman’s celebration of life on Monday.”
I groaned. “I don’t know what we’re going to do. We’re already booked over capacity on Tuesday evening. We’ll be ordering pizza for the dining hall.”
Nina laughed. “Guests always come first. Tell the fishing derby no if you have to.”
I balked. “Yeah, that’ll go over like a lead balloon.”
“Well, they should have asked instead of just moving it and expecting us to be able to do it.”
This was why Nina was my perfect work sidekick. I had a tendency to say yes to everything, not wanting to disappoint anyone. She was more practical.
“You’re right. Can you let Ted know there’s no way we can do that? We’re maxed out for Tuesday evening, but any other night next week should work. Check the schedule to be sure.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket and even though I couldn’t get it out with a cheesecake in each hand, I knew it was about the ETA of the desserts.
“Let’s hurry,” I said, picking up my pace and passing Nina and the cart.
