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CHAPTER SIX
Shea
“Well, I’m sure you made an impression,” Nina said, avoiding my gaze. “That’s never a bad thing.”
It was the afternoon after the cheesecake incident, and she was trying—unsuccessfully—to assure me Holt didn’t think I was a hot mess. We were prepping supplies for dinner while other cooks peeled potatoes and shucked corn.
“I made an impression alright,” I said, shaking my head.
“Do you remember him from high school? Was he close to your age?”
“Did you add that extra butter to the inventory?” I asked, looking up from my clipboard.
“Yep.”
I nodded and made a check mark on my inventory sheet. “Holt is three years older than me and two years younger than Grady. So I knew of him but never really knew him.”
“Gotcha. He seems like a really nice guy.”
I ignored her because I didn’t want the entire kitchen staff listening to this conversation. Nina was on a mission to fix me up with someone, and since she hadn’t been successful matchmaking me with any men in the Beard, she always had her eye out for attractive male guests.
“Darren, are you all set for the risotto?” I asked, walking over to the big butcher block island where he was peeling potatoes.
“Yeah,” he said.
I wasn’t confident in his risotto-making abilities, but I had to assign my best cooks to the dinner main courses.
“Don’t stop stirring,” I said. “Split it between two pots and stir one with each hand.”
“I’m not dumb. I know it takes two hands to stir two pots,” he said, offended.
“I didn’t mean it that way. And make sure the mushrooms aren’t just sliced, but chopped.”
He sighed heavily and muttered to the employee next to him. “Is she gonna follow me into the bathroom and tell me how to hold my dick when I take a piss?”
I looked up from my clipboard, taken aback. “Darren, I don’t care how you piss as long as you wash your hands when you’re done. I do care how you prepare food in my kitchen, and if that’s a problem for you, there’s the door.”
The room fell into complete silence as I gestured at the double doors. I wanted to fire him, but I couldn’t until I found a replacement.
“It’s no problem,” he mumbled.
“Shea?”
I turned toward Priscilla, who was standing in front of the kitchen doors, her arm around Spencer.
“You have a visitor,” she announced.
I smiled, hiding my slight panic. Hopefully Spencer hadn’t just heard me dressing down Darren.
“Hi Shea,” Spencer said, grinning. “Can I have cooking lessons?”
He was wearing one of the dark gray aprons sold in The Sleepy Moose’s gift shop, our logo embroidered on the chest. I didn’t know if it was the apron or his eager expression, but I couldn’t turn him down.
“Sure, I’ll put you to work,” I said. “But it might not be anything exciting since we’re preparing for dinner.”
“That’s okay.”
I motioned him over to the sink. “First, I’ll show you how we wash our hands.”
