Twenty-Seven
TWENTY-SEVEN
Mia
IT TOOK NEARLY a week to get all my stuff packed up and either moved to the Ladue house or put in storage in my parents’ basement. I knew I could have taken everything to Zalen’s house, but even though he’d said it was all right, it still felt presumptuous, somehow.
So, I’d stuck to moving in with only the stuff I was actually likely to need over the next few weeks. Luca had helped me get the guest bedroom ready, his omega nesting instincts triggered as much or more than my own, it seemed.
Tonight was the night. It was Sunday, which meant tomorrow was my day off. I had my overnight case full of toiletries and sleepwear in the back of my car. Once this shift was over, I would be driving to Ladue not because I was visiting, but because I lived there—temporarily, at least.
I wasn’t sure whether I was supposed to feel excited because I was finally moving forward, or sad because I was leaving the home I’d made with Nat... or maybe something else entirely? Mostly, I just felt numb. That, and busy, because the Elderflower Inn was packed tonight.
“Whatever social media voodoo you did, it obviously worked,” I told Nat when he poked his head in to see how things were going on the line.
He tried to smile, but it was strained at the edges. I might not have figured out how I was supposed to feel about tonight, but he definitely had. Still, he only nodded.
“Online scavenger hunt with a hundred-dollar gift voucher up for grabs,” he said. “The final clue is on a special hidden menu page on the website, only accessible via the new QR codes taped to the tables.”
“I understood some of those words,” I told him. “Which is why marketing is your job and slinging hash is my job.”
“We don’t serve hash,” Nat said, trying for humor.
“We could serve hash,” Shaniqua Jones called from her station at the grill. “I make amazing hash.”
A couple of the line cooks chuckled, and I felt a smile tug at my lips. Even Nat’s tense face relaxed a bit.
“Maybe we’ll start opening for breakfast,” I called back, and the chuckles turned to groans. It seemed no one was in a hurry to add an early morning shift to the roster, and I couldn’t blame them.
Candace poked her head into the kitchen from the front of house, interrupting the moment of levity. Her eyes were wide as she beckoned Nat and me over.
“What is it?” I asked. “Something wrong up front?”
“Not... really?” she said. “Only, there are a couple of guys from the Bella Vita checking out the place, and I thought you’d want to know. They’re at table six.”
Frowning, I followed her out with Nat at my back. A couple of alphas in dress slacks and button-downs sat at table six, chatting pleasantly with the new waiter, Joe.
“Okay, I’ll bite,” I told Candy. “How do you know they’re from the Bella Vita?”
Her cheeks reddened, and her eyes darted to the side as she cleared her throat. “So... you know how Isaiah was talking about maybe going over there to scope out the competition? I kind of... did that last week.”
“We’re doing corporate espionage now?” Nat asked. “Huh. Okay. How was it?”
“It was, y’know, good,” Candy said, still looking like she wasn’t sure if she was in trouble or not. She jerked her chin toward the table. “One of those guys was doing the rounds in the dining room, making sure the customers were happy. I saw the other guy behind the bar, talking to the bartender.”
“Well,” I said, “I guess we can’t get too upset about them coming here to spy on us, since we’ve already spied on them .”
Candy opened her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted by a loud clatter and an ominous thud from the back of house. I winced, knowing a sound like that from the back of a restaurant could herald anything from ‘ no big deal ’ to ‘ oops, there’s a few thousand dollars down the drain .’
Nat and I lunged for the double doors as one. Toby, one of the line cooks, was standing at the top of the stairway leading down to the walk-in cooler, both his hands clamped over his mouth in horror as he stared down at whatever carnage lay below.
Instinct propelled me to rush forward, find out what happened, and immediately start doing damage control. I tamped it down and placed a restraining hand on Nat’s arm when I saw that my new sous chef had beaten us to the scene of destruction.
“What are you—” Nat began, looking down at my hand.
“Shh,” I said, pulling him back a step with me, so we were out of their line of sight. “I need to see how she handles a crisis. I’ll step in if I need to.”
Nat gave a reluctant nod, though his arm was tense under my grip.
“What happened?” Shaniqua asked. “Are you okay? Not hurt or anything?”
Toby shook his head, still looking panicked. “I’m so sorry, chef! I was trying to grab the door, and I don’t know what happened. I slipped on something and dropped the tub. It fell down the stairs, and now everything’s ruined! I didn’t mean to do it—”
“Of course you didn’t,” Shaniqua told him. “Was it the lamb?”
I cringed, since that probably meant we were on the ‘ oops, there’s a few hundred dollars in expensive meat down the drain ’ section of the spectrum. At my side, Nat made a low, visceral noise of financial pain.
Toby nodded miserably. “I’m so sorry! There are four orders in for the lamb already—that’s why I was bringing it up! What should we do?”
Shaniqua hesitated for a moment, and I held my breath. This was the first really challenging service we’d had since Isaiah left, and I needed to see if her lack of real-world restaurant experience was going to be an issue when things got tough.
After a slight pause, she nodded with the air of a woman who’d successfully wrangled six co-mates and twelve pups for the better part of two decades.
“All right. Grab all the waitstaff and warn them that lamb is off the menu,” she said. “Then find Nat and ask him to let the customers who’ve already ordered know what’s happening.”
At that, Nat strode forward. “I’m here. What did happen? I heard a crash,” he said, playing along with my plan.
Shaniqua calmly recounted events, while Toby looked like he wanted to sink straight through the floor. Pleased with what I’d seen—except for the unexpected hit to the pocketbook, obviously—I headed for the kitchen to take over there. Behind me, Nat’s gruff voice was telling Toby that accidents happen, and to be more careful from now on.
The rest of the service went as well as could be expected. Nat sent the four disappointed diners off with gift cards for future visits, and awkwardly told me he’d see me on Tuesday after we closed for the night. I still hadn’t decided what emotions I was supposed to be having, but I agreed and told him to have a good rest of the weekend.
I found Shaniqua smoking a cigarette behind the restaurant as I left, locking the back door behind me.
“Hey,” I greeted. “Good job tonight. I really appreciate how you handled things with Toby. You’ve got a good, calming presence in the kitchen.”
She smiled, stubbing out the cigarette a bit sheepishly. “Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you. And for the record, I stopped officially smoking a couple years ago. I only carry this pack for emergencies, and tonight was pretty intense.”
I snorted. “Your secret’s safe with me. Right, I’m out. See you on Tuesday, Shaniqua.”
“G’night, boss,” she said. “Oh, and feel free to call me Shani. Most people do. One thing, before I forget it—there was a patch of oil or grease at the top of the stairs going down to the cooler. I cleaned it up as best I could, but Toby’s accident could have been a lot worse. We need to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”
Christ . That could have been serious.
“Definitely,” I agreed. “I’ll talk to everyone first thing on Tuesday about cleaning up any spills as soon as they happen. Good night, Shani. And thank you again.”
She smiled, and I rummaged for my keys, heading for the lot where I’d parked.
It was time to go home, for my new definition of ‘home.’
The commute to Ladue was actually quite a bit shorter than the commute to Jennings. Luca greeted me when I let myself in, hauling my overnight case with me.
“Welcome home,” he said warmly, and something inside me relaxed.
“Hi,” I said, dredging up a grin for him. “Do you think everyone would be okay with me putting on a late sit-down dinner tomorrow to say thank you for letting me stay here?”
Luca smirked, taking my case from me, and leading the way into the house. “I think you’d better be careful about cooking for us, or you’re likely to find yourself chained in the kitchen with an ankle shackle,” he said over his shoulder.
Honestly, there were days when that didn’t sound like too bad of a deal... but boundaries were important.
“Nuh-uh. Once a week, tops. Besides, once I teach Zalen how to make pasta without mangling it, you won’t even need me.”
“See, you say that now,” Luca shot back. “You haven’t seen how badly we eat around this place. Speaking of which, there’s some leftover takeout curry in the fridge if you’re hungry.”
“Not hungry,” I said, having grabbed a salad earlier at the restaurant. “I could murder a can of Pepsi, though.”
I’d just pulled one out of the fridge and cracked it open when Zalen came in. He was carrying a box under one arm, and he looked pretty rough—exhausted, and with dark circles under his kind eyes.
“Hello, you two,” he greeted, setting the box down in front of me. “Welcome to the house, Mia.”
I put the soda can down on the counter.
“Hi,” I said, surprised. “Is this for me?”
“It is,” he told me. “Sorry I didn’t manage to get it wrapped. Go ahead and open it if you like.”