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“What is it?”
“Marie has a nut allergy. She can’t be in the kitchen tonight because of the slivered almonds on the green beans., so I put her on dishes.”
I looked over at Priscilla’s station, frustration building hard and fast when I didn’t see Marie there. Our newest employee was supposed to be backing up Priscilla tonight, which was why I’d assigned Priscilla work for two people instead of one.
“Damn, I’m sorry. You should have told me.”
“Just rolling with it during the rush, Chef.”
It was something I asked my seasoned employees to do: roll with the unexpected when things were crazy busy. I told them we’d sort out the details when things slowed down.
“You’re the best,” I said. “Ask Charlie to take over on toasting almonds.”
“I’ve got it. I’ll tell you if I need help.”
I nodded, watching as servers left with the plates of beef Wellington. It was one of the most expensive dishes we sold here at The Moose and always one of the most popular.
Nina nodded at me from the beef Wellington station, reading my mind. She knew I always asked prospective employees about allergies. Marie had assured me she had none.
Knowing the beef was in good hands, I walked into the back room, where Marie was rinsing dishes and loading them into industrial-sized dishwashers.
“Hey, do you have any allergies?” I asked.
“Oh.” She grinned at me like I’d just told a hilarious joke. “Yeah. I thought if I told you that during the interview, you wouldn’t hire me.”
It wasn’t the right time for a conversation, but she couldn’t be employed here full time, which put me in a huge bind. I’d struggled all summer to find kitchen help for the low wages Caden required we pay here.
“I actually can’t have you on dishes, either,” I said. “There could be nuts on the dirty dishes. You’ll need to clock out.”
“Clock out? But I have a five-hour shift.”
I put a palm up. “You should have told me about your allergy.”
“Why, so you could discriminate against me? This is so unfair.”
I’d been in a bad mood since Holt and his kids left the inn four days ago, and I didn’t need any more fuel added to the flames.
“I’m going to clock you out,” I told Marie. “Leave the apron in here and do not walk back into the kitchen for any reason.”
“Am I fired?” she called as I walked away.
“I’ll see if there’s another job for you at the inn outside of the kitchen, but you can’t work in here.”
The double doors closed behind me and I took a deep breath, walking back over to Nina.
“Did you have a broken butane torch on your bingo card for tonight?” she asked me.
“Are you fucking joking?”
She gave me a look. “Do you know me? Would I try to crack a joke right now?”
I laughed maniacally. The backup torch was broken, too. This job was fifty percent cooking and fifty percent problem-solving.
“Broil the crème brûlée,” I called out to the dessert station. “There are instructions in the blue binder.”
“We’re having fun though, right?” Nina said. “And I heard no one’s getting a raise again this year so that just adds to it.”
I stopped in the middle of wiping down our stainless workstation. “What?”
