Finding Home (Coming Home Series Book 2) by J.M. Adele

Author:J.M. Adele [Adele, J.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Book Flare Publishers
Published: 2017-08-14T05:00:00+00:00

Did We …?

Matteo said this was meant to be a slow night. Grey’s head was damn near ready to spin off his neck. The entrées had gone out on a few of their tables, with a couple already up to mains, and new parties were still lining up at the door. He was used to being busy. He’d grown up busy. It was putting on a smile and being polite and accommodating that he was having trouble with. Was it so hard for people to say thank you? And what the fuck was it with people clicking their goddamn fingers? He’d pictured herding a few assholes out the door already. At least in the kitchen, he could set his tongue free. Cuss words were cleansing. There was nothing like spitting out ‘fuck’ or ‘shit’, or ‘sonofabitch’ when things weren’t going his way.

Chelsea moved from one task to the next, all with a smile on her face and a hop in her step. She had a way about her that put the customers at ease, and had them enjoying their night before the food even arrived. The service staff held a lot of power in this business. They could make or break a restaurant. He hadn’t really thought about more than the food, until now.

Dropping off another order to the kitchen, Grey made his way back to the floor where Chelsea was greeting a new party in their section. He slowed his steps, noticing the stiff set of her shoulders and the clipped tone of her voice, and struggled to keep his own composure. Whatever had her back up, set his hackles rising too.

He tacked on a smile and moved beside her, sizing up the party of four gentlemen in business suits. “Good evening, folks. My name is Greyson and I’ll be assisting Chelsea with your service this evening. Would anybody like a drink to get started?” Motherfuckers.

See? He felt better just thinking it.

Gold cufflinks winked under the dim light as one of the men adjusted his tie, his predatory blue stare ignoring Greyson and following Chelsea as she retreated a step.

“How is your mother?”

A bit of southern flavored his accent, the words dripping with threat. Grey moved over, shielding her from potential harm. If this guy knew Chelsea’s mom, it definitely wasn’t on good terms. Grey wasn’t real interested in giving him a five-star evening. Maybe a boot out the door. Now, that would be fun.

She stepped around Grey, order pad in hand, smile fastened tight. “You know as well as I do, that’s none of your business.” Directing her attention to the other members of the party, she licked her lips and poised her pen. “What would y’all like to drink?”

“Uh—”

A chubby guy in pinstripes started to speak up before being cut off by the blond in cufflinks.

“A bottle of Bollinger, on ice. Is she still making those delightful cakes?”

His stare hadn’t detached from Chelsea, but she matched it with her own cool blue return.

“One Bollinger comin’ right up, gentlemen.

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