Sugar And Spice (Main Street Merchants Book 7) by Amelia C. Adams

Author:Amelia C. Adams [Adams, Amelia C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary Romance, Women's Fiction, Forever Love, Christian Stories, Faith Based, Inspirational Reads, Love Inspired, Bachelor, Single Woman, Hearts Desire, Clean & Wholesome, Life-Changes, Second Chance Reunion, Honesty & Trust, Home & Family, Lifetime Love, Romantic Schemes, Love-Family & Forever, Action & Adventure, Small Town & Rural Area, Beautiful & Feisty, Main Street Merchants Series
Publisher: Amelia C. Adams
Published: 2017-03-29T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Toby had to race home, leap into the shower, shave really fast, and almost speed to get to Frannie’s on time. He clocked in exactly at two, and tried to look calm as he went to work preparing the dining room for dinner. This was probably going to be a really long day, but it would be worth it—being able to help Sal, seeing the gratitude on Sloane’s face, knowing Eddie could rest more comfortably—it all felt really good.

His thoughts circled right back to Sloane. He’d taken several peeks at her through the pass-through window that day, and he liked what he saw. Her easy way with the customers, her genuine concern for their satisfaction, the way she helped a young mother juggle three small children into their booster seats and cleaned up their horrible messes afterward—she had a good soul. It didn’t hurt anything, either, that she was so pretty, and smart, and he liked making her blush. That was fun.

Chef Avery seemed to be in a fairly good mood as the evening started out. He asked how Eddie was, although he couldn’t remember Eddie’s name, and he seemed concerned about Sloane’s welfare. But when a customer requested no garlic on the lemon garlic chicken because of an allergy, he became a little testy.

“If I don’t use garlic, this becomes just lemon chicken. So why not just order lemon chicken?” he muttered as he put the meat in a small frying pan over the heat. “It’s not like I haven’t spent hours perfecting this recipe. I don’t know what Chef Marco was doing before this, but it couldn’t have been as good . . .”

Toby didn’t listen to the rest of the rant—he had bread to deliver to the table.

“I’m so sorry,” the woman said when he approached, “but I forgot to mention that I’m also allergic to parsley.”

“I’ll take care of that right away,” Toby promised, heading back into the kitchen just in time to see Chef Avery season the chicken with parsley.

“Chef, I’m sorry, but the customer has just told me that she’s allergic to parsley as well,” Toby said.

Chef Avery whirled on him. “Oh? Is that so? Tell me—when she told you about the garlic allergy, did you even think to ask if she had other allergies? Or did that slip your mind? You just wasted this entire chicken breast.” He picked it up and threw it in the garbage, which was completely ridiculous because another waiter had just brought in an order that it would have suited very well. “Learn your job, Toby. Learn your job, and do it right.” He slammed the frying pan back on the stove. “I’m taking a ten-minute break.” With that, he stormed out of the kitchen.

“He can’t just do that,” Chloe said, standing there with wide eyes. “It’s Andrew’s night off. We don’t have a chef for the next ten minutes.”

Toby pulled in a ragged breath. “Yes, you do. Peter, can you grab me a new chicken breast from the fridge?”

“Uh, sure,” Peter said, moving off to do as he was told.

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