Chapter 13 #3
Someone, somewhere had dug her up a Riverstone Kitchen t-shirt, the same one that all his wait staff wore.
She’d thrown it on over her long-sleeved shirt, and she was wearing jeans and flats while the rest of the staff had on black pants and sturdy sneakers that would support the long hours spent on the job.
But, aside from that, Hope seemed to fit in perfectly.
She laughed with customers as she took down their orders, and she expertly balanced a string of plates up her arm as she went to deliver a meal to a large group.
And goodness knew he hadn’t noticed anything amiss with the order tickets.
That was something that would have thrown him off his game right away.
But if anything, the dining room seemed to be running as smoothly as ever. Better, maybe. Definitely more efficiently than could normally be expected with a new person working the floor.
He couldn’t hold back any longer. He shook his head, letting a grin slide across his face and a low chuckle escape his lips.
She really was a marvel.
“Oi, Landers!” he called out playfully when she passed the kitchen window to put her latest order ticket on the hanger that rotated them into the kitchen in the order they’d come in. “Do my eyes deceive me? When did you start working here?”
She startled, but only slightly, when he called her name, then grinned and shrugged a shoulder.
“Call it professional courtesy,” she called back. “I could not, in good conscience, stand by and let you guys struggle. Besides, I knew exactly how to help. And I wasn’t exactly busy.”
“The quilting could wait?”
“Believe it or not, yes,” she agreed. “But this plate won’t, not without getting cold. Chat later!”
And, like the utter wonder that she was, she grabbed three plates, stacked them neatly down her arm, and whirled back into the chaos that was any busy restaurant.
The pull of the kitchen dragged him back in after that; he couldn’t afford to get distracted in a room that was basically wall to wall fire and blades. But he periodically stole glances at Hope, who seemed completely indefatigable, even as the dinner service ran into hour three, then four.
It was nearly eight o’clock in the evening when Jared finally hit enough of a lull to step out of the kitchen. First, he guzzled about an entire bottle of water, since working in the kitchen was hot, thirsty work. Then, he grabbed a second bottle and brought it out to Hope.
He found her leaning against a wall in the small alcove that the staff used to catch their breath during busy evenings like this one. Hope had one foot lifted off the floor, and she was rotating her ankle carefully.
Jared winced in sympathy. “Those aren’t the best shoes for a night waiting tables, huh?” he asked. Her thin ballet flats didn’t offer much in the way of support, whereas he, and the rest of the staff, were all wearing the most comfortable shoes they could find.
She shook her head, giving him a rueful look. “I’ll survive, but I’ll definitely be feeling the ache for a little while. In my defense, when I put them on this morning, looking cute was my primary motivation. The opportunity to help out was just a happy accident.”
Jared leaned his shoulder against the wall too, leaving enough space between them that she didn’t feel crowded.
“Can I ask you something?” he said, then winced. “Sorry, that sounded like I was about to probe into your deepest, darkest secrets. I really wanted to just ask you for a favor.”
She laughed, and he was grateful that this didn’t lead to another moment of awkwardness between them.
“I am actually pretty free of deep, dark secrets,” she said.
“Once, when I was eight, I accidentally shoplifted a packet of fruit leather when it got stuck in a pocket of my bag and didn’t notice at checkout.
I went back in and cried I was so sorry, even though it cost about a quarter.
Which I did pay. So.” She scrunched her nose.
She did that a lot. Jared found it terribly charming.
“Not exactly the best person for deep and dark.”
“Okay, one, that story is incredible,” he said. “And two, the actual favor is about whether you would be willing to work for the restaurant while you’re in Magnolia Shore, so as your prospective employer, your history of extreme honesty is very promising.”
She blinked. “Wait, you want me to work here?”
She sounded pleased, but he wanted to make sure that he didn’t get ahead of himself.
“Would you be willing to do it?” he asked carefully. “You would be doing me a huge favor.”
Her grin was enormous.
“Yeah,” she said, laughing. “Yeah, I would love that. Wow. Thanks.”
“Oh my gosh, no,” he said, holding out his hands in protest. “Thank you. You saved our bacon tonight.”
“And since bacon was in some of the food, this was literal,” she quipped. “But seriously, I was happy to do it. It felt… really good, getting back in the groove.”
They discussed a few more details, and Jared promised to get Hope more information about scheduling after he checked with the rest of the staff.
He had a few people who wanted more hours, and a few who wanted to move their current shifts around, and Hope said she was happy to fill in whatever gaps arose after he looked that over.
He sent her home after that, her cut of the night’s tips in her pocket and a spare Riverstone Kitchen shirt slung over her shoulder.
He made himself head back to the kitchen after watching her go, musing that, while it would indeed be a relief to have a backup waitress, that the real reason for his sudden happiness was the promise of getting to see much more of the wonderful Hope Landers.