High Heat (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove) by Tatum Throne

Author:Tatum Throne
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Published: 2012-10-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Colin didn’t take nights off ever. It was just his life as a chef. So, the next night, he was where he should’ve been, in the heat of the kitchen. When Colin worked, he was hyperfocused on every detail of the kitchen. Everything else in the world faded away. That kept him from thinking about Quinn all the time. Seven o’clock came and went without much thought to Colin. It wasn’t until they were mid-service that he realized it was almost nine, and he’d stood Quinn up without calling. He meant to call a half hour prior to their date, but he’d forgotten.

Date? What the hell? Was it a date? Before Colin realized what he was doing, he was heading for the phone on the wall. He took a second to look up the non-emergency number for the Boone County Fire Department then dialed. With the phone pressed to his ear, he stared into the chaos of the kitchen. It was a well-oiled, noisy machine.

Bussers worked overtime to keep up with the demand of a Saturday night dinner rush. They scooted through with a load of dirty dishes to the sinks in the back. A dishwasher danced around a busser with a stack of clean salad bowls balanced as high as his chin. Colin held his breath for a second as the near miss was avoided. The pastry chef was half covered in flour as she worked to pull berry tarts from the oven before they burned, dodging the bread warmer in the process. The drone of the phone still buzzed in his ear.

“What the fuck?” Jane screeched.

Colin’s gaze zeroed in on his new waiter standing before Jane with a plate. What. The. Fuck. Was right.

“Station 189, this is Lieutenant Rodgers.”

The voice brought him out of the kitchen. “Is Cavanaugh in?” Colin asked.

“No Captain Cavanaugh is off tonight.”

Captain. Colin had no idea he was at the top of the ranks. “Okay, thanks. I’ll try back another time.”

Colin hung up the phone and was across the room before the waiter was able to get his words out of his mouth.

“Table twelve doesn’t care for the Caesar salad.”

Jane’s glower could’ve broken the plate and shot through the glass that separated the kitchen from the dining area. Instead, it made his young server flinch and take a step back. “He fucking ate the entire thing except two fucking pieces. How the fuck can he not care for it?”

“He wants the raspberry lobster salad.”

“Get it for him,” Colin said.

There were the ones who tried for a free meal every service. He knew how to play this. He’d been played before. Jane went back to the pass to check plates.

She was all controlled business as she snapped a ticket from the machine on the counter across from her. She cleared her throat. “Ordering...two lobster...one cedar plank salmon...ordering one truffle burger...ordering one fucking raspberry lobster salad for the fucking idiot at table twelve.”

Her voice was an eerie calm that had all his cooks on the line casting her a funny look.

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