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“Hey, it’s a tough life but someone’s gotta do it.”
I sighed again. Apparently sighs were becoming a way of life for me. “Fine, whatever. I’ve gotta run. I’m sure I have a meeting or an important email to answer or something.”
“You probably have a very important flyer to draw up for your boss’s PTA presidential campaign or something.”
“Fuck off.” That time, I said it with a chuckle and a shake of my head. He wasn’t wrong—I’d been asked to do personal items for my bossmanytimes in my role as corporate communications specialist. Basically I was a graphic designer, a marketing specialist, and a copywriter all rolled into one. I loved my job, except when people assumed I was good at little more than designing yard sale fliers.
We chatted for another minute or two before hanging up and I went back to my desk in my home office, knowing I’d barely be able to focus for the next day and a half before we left for Vegas Saturday morning.
Chapter Three
Oliver
Saturdayswerealwaysourbusiest nights. Saturdays in early summer? Forget about taking walk-ins, we could barely fit in the reservation requests we had. Luckily for us, it was the end of a busy season and things would start quieting down until fall, which meant I’d have plenty of time to travel and scout locations for the second restaurant. Summers in Vegas weren’t as busy as, say, a summer in a beach town, and for that, I was grateful.
Cam had only called twice more to discuss his party’s reservation, which honestly wasn’t too bad considering he’d probably called ten times prior to thatandconsidering he didn’t ask to change anything the day before the party. It was a relief, but part of me would kind of miss hearing from him every day. No—wait, what was I thinking? I would not miss being pestered by a high-maintenance out-of-town guest. Not even a little bit.
I walked through the restaurant before dinner service started, making sure everything looked the way I liked. Cara was my right-hand person, and as the front of house manager, she knew how to make sure things went smoothly, but I couldn’t help wanting to have a personal touch on everything as well. I knew my type-A tendencies would be hard to break free of when I moved to open a second location, but I trusted Cara and Jeremiah with my life.
When I finished my sweep of the restaurant, Cara was supervising while Jeremiah led the servers through the menu specials for the night. She reached for my arm and stopped me in my tracks.
“Chef, do you have a minute?”
“Of course.” My stomach tightened. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong exactly. It’s just that Mr. Newton called again.”
“Mr. Newton?”
“The bachelor party. The one that’s been calling all week.”
“Oh right, that Mr. Newton. Okay what did he need this time?” I tightened my jaw and waited for a cancellation notice. If he canceled, I was going to lose my mind. Mentally I started counting backward from ten so I didn’t blow up on Cara, because she definitely didn’t deserve my wrath.
I was sure Cara noticed my tension because she smiled a little, the corner of her mouth raising on one side. “He’d like to come in before the rest of the group and meet with you. Just to make sure everything is perfect, he said.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. A meeting I could handle, particularly if it meant he wasn’t canceling a party of twenty-two with a specially crafted menu the day of the event. “Yeah, that should be fine. What time is he coming in?”
“Eight, I think he said.”
With a nod, I rubbed the back of my neck and sighed. “Okay, I guess I should get in the kitchen and get them started then.”
Once I got into the kitchen, Jeremiah and I worked together to craft a perfect bacon Parmesan sauce for the shrimp and get the cooks working on the night’s offerings. Because I was going to be down by about twenty-five filets, give or take, I wanted to feature the New York strip instead—the steak I’d ordered for Cam’s original party menu. Jeremiah got busy tweaking a sauce for it while I walked the kitchen and kept an eye on everything.
It wasn’t long until dinner service was in full swing and I was busy sweating and jumping in where needed, and sometimes reprimanding the kitchen staff when they screwed up. That didn’t happen often though. We had a great team at Hidden Cove and they were almost all very well trained. The new cook, Allie, was learning quickly and each day she was falling more smoothly into the kitchen’s flow.
I was trying to show her some patience as she fumbled with the gravy for a poultry dish we’d put on the menu when Cara popped into the kitchen and called my name, snapping me out of my focus.
“Chef?”
I squeezed my eyes closed for a fraction of a second, knowing Allie was going to destroy the gravy if she stopped stirring. “Keep stirring,” I ordered before I looked up at Cara. “What is it?”
“Mr. Newton is here. The bachelor party guy.”
I glanced at my watch. Sure enough, it was already eight o’clock. “Send him to the office. I’ll be there in a second.” Cara nodded and disappeared back into the front of house as I looked around for Jeremiah. “Jer! Do you have time to help here?”
He nodded without looking up from the chicken he was grilling. “I’ll be there in a second.
I looked at Allie with narrowed eyes. “Donotstop stirring until Jer says so.”
