Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jared wiped down the counters of the kitchen in his restaurant, thinking back, as he often did, to how onerous he had found this task at various points in his career.
The dread with which he approached clean-up had always been a good litmus test for whether a certain job was a good fit or not.
When cleaning up felt like a good conclusion to a good day filled with good food, the job was, in a word, good.
When he looked at his counters and thought that it might be easier to just set them on fire than do all the wiping and tidying, because, well, fire killed germs, right?
Yeah, that was a sign that it was time to move on, to find something better.
It was satisfying nearly every day at Riverstone Kitchen.
Anything else was a blip, the normal frustrations that came with any job.
A day when he’d had to peel like a thousand cloves of garlic, for example, and when he wanted nothing more than the longest, hottest shower of his life.
That weeklong stretch last winter when it had been so bitterly cold that anything that had kept him from being piled under five to seven blankets received his fiercest resentment.
But mostly, it was like today. Satisfying. The people of his town had been fed. His kitchen was in order. He only had one more pickup order, and then he could put a check mark on the day.
Very, very satisfying.
And, he thought, looking around, something he could probably handle himself. He went into the walk-in refrigerator, where his kitchen staff was starting on some prep work for tomorrow.
“Hey, Isolde, Manny,” he said to the pair who were laughing over something while they chopped a massive pile of celery for mirepoix. “I think we’re covered for the rest of the night. You guys can head out.”
“Thanks, chef,” Isolde said at once, brushing her hands over her apron. “If I hurry, I might get to see my grandkids before my daughter puts them to bed for the night.”
Manny, a much younger guy, grinned at his co-worker. “We live very different lives. If I hurry, I might get to take out this cute girl for a drink.”
Once they were away from the food, Isolde reached out and ruffled his hair.
“Just you wait, young buck,” she teased. “One day, your bones will ache and the idea of going out after work will seem like a fool’s errand.”
“Yeah, that’s why I have to enjoy my youth while I can,” Manny replied.
Jared smiled, listening to their playful banter vanish into quiet as he finished up the last of the celery, then dumped it into one of the large containers they kept precisely for holding the vast quantities of prepped food that the kitchen required to run smoothly every day.
When he went back into the main area of the kitchen a few minutes later, he saw that there was a woman, peeking her head into the workspace. He was about to call out an apology for the apparently abandoned restaurant when he realized something.
He recognized those chestnut waves.
Jared was not usually a prankster, and especially not in the kitchen, which was typically full of fire and blades. Not a good environment for anything but the most professional demeanor. But the stoves were off and the knives were all washed and away.
So he indulged a little.
He walked quietly, which was easy on floors covered in shock-absorbing rubber mats, until he was only an arm’s length behind Hope. And then, in a slightly louder voice than usual, he asked, “Lost?”
It might have made him a bad person how hard he laughed when she jumped and let out a little squeak of alarm. When she turned, her hand was pressed to her chest and she was glaring, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“That was mean,” she accused.
“Sorry, Hope,” he said, still chuckling. “I couldn’t help myself. Besides, with our history, it’s totally normal for me to think that you were lost and in need of rescuing… again.”
She stuck out her tongue at him. It was absolutely adorable.
“No, it’s all good,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear absently. “I probably deserved it, since I’m sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong. I just couldn’t resist taking a look to see what your setup was like in here.”
“Professional curiosity?” he asked as he watched her take in the scene around them. He felt a surge of pride when she nodded approvingly at his space, which he had cultivated with more care than any of the rooms in his home. “Missing your waitressing job that much?”
“Ha, that would be a good excuse,” she said, scrunching her nose. Also adorable. “And I did love that job, and I’m still rather sad that it’s over. But the real reason is that I’m just a snoop, I’m afraid.”
“At least you’re a pretty snoop.”
The words left his mouth before he could think about them, and as soon as they did, he wished he could snatch them back.
It wasn’t that he didn’t think Hope was pretty.
She definitely was. But she had come to town to care for her sick grandmother, not because she wanted a local restauranteur to comment on her looks.
She blushed furiously, which was also also adorable, but Jared pushed that thought very deep down, because he apparently couldn’t trust the filter between his brain and his mouth anymore.
“Sorry,” he said, wincing. “I shouldn’t have—”
“No, sorry,” she said, speaking over him. “I was the one who—”
They both cut themselves off to let the other speak, then laughed a little into the awkward silence that followed. It worked to cut the tension a little, although part of Jared still wished that the earth would open up and swallow him whole.
“Sorry,” she repeated. “I bet you’re probably eager to get out of here for the day.” She looked around the empty kitchen. “I just came in to pick up a to-go order for my grandmother. Soup?”
“Right, yes, of course,” he agreed, feeling flustered himself now.
He crossed to the shelf where he kept his to-go orders.
There was only one left, but Miriam’s name was listed on the slip on the side.
“Here you go. Tell Miriam that I hope she likes it, and that it helps her keep feeling better. Everybody misses seeing her around.”
The words sounded stilted, too polite. It wasn’t the way that Jared even talked to his customers around here. He’d spoken to customers in the bigger markets like that, but this was Magnolia Shore. He made more than awkward small talk with literally all of his patrons.
But something about the moment had gotten knocked off course by his compliment, and now it felt impossible to get things back on track.
“She’ll be really pleased to hear that,” Hope said. Her smile felt a little more forced now. “Anyway, I should get this back to her before it gets cold. Thanks again, Jared!”
“Good to see you, Hope!” he called as she headed for the door, pausing only to shoot him a wave over her shoulder.
After the door closed behind her, Jared put his hands on his hips and dropped his chin down to meet his chest.
“Well, that was a disaster,” he told his empty kitchen.
At least he had sent the staff home. The only thing worse than whatever that had just been would have been the same thing happening but with witnesses.
And while he appreciated that what he’d built here wasn’t like the stiff, overly formal kitchens he’d worked in at big-city restaurants, that did mean that if his workers got a hint that he had a crush, he would never hear the end of it.
He might not have minded a little light ribbing, but his compliment clearly had made Hope feel uncomfortable. And he didn’t want that. So. No more forward compliments from him.
He rubbed his hands through his hair once, then started gathering his things to leave. No matter how much a mess he had made of that conversation, there was one thing he couldn’t deny: Hope was definitely very pretty, and he hoped that he’d get to see her again soon.