Page 10 of Just A Little Joy

“Yeah, I’ll call him tomorrow and tell him not to bother coming in at all anymore.” Before I lost my temper in public, I headed to the back of the house. My frustration got the better of me, and I slammed a fist against my office door on my way to figuring out how the fuck I was going to handle our kitchen this evening. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” My shouts were to no one in particular, but Casey popped a concerned head around the corner anyway.

“You okay?” Casey asked hesitantly. “I, uh, heard you yelling.”

I scrubbed a hand across my prickly jaw, then plopped down in my office chair before answering. “Yeah, sorry about the yelling. Just frustrated.”

“So long as you don’t check me into the boards, we’re good.”

“I would fucking never.”

Yeah, I had a temper, but did he really think it was that bad? Shit, maybe my yelling was worse than I thought. The idea that he thought I would take it out on anyone horrified me more than a little.

“Whoa, whoa, I was joking. We don’t even have boards up.” Casey tried to defuse what I now saw was my overreaction to his obvious joke.

“Sorry, of course you were.” I waved him inside and gestured to the sofa in the corner. “We’re just fucked tonight.”

“Why?” Casey bounced a couple of times on the couch after he sat down. “Dang, you weren’t lying about how comfy this thing is.” It was sheer force of will that allowed me to bite back all the unboss-like quips ready to roll off my tongue.

“Gerry is our weekend cook. He’s not great, but he’s ours, and now he’s called in again, just like last weekend, so no snacks for another weekend.”

I slouched back in my chair while I thought about how to salvage tonight’s sales. Gerry had been inherited from theprevious management, and it had been a struggle since day one. The problem wasn’t him getting fired so much as the timing of it tonight.

“If you want, I could take a look?” Casey offered in a halting tone. He cleared his throat a few times and looked anywhere but at me.

“You know how to cook?”

“Well, it depends on what’s in the kitchen and what I can prep fast.”

“Got it, if it’s not slop, you’re already miles ahead. When I took over, I said we weren’t doing store-bought, deep-fried, or microwaved anything. Gerry bitches about it, but there should be some usable stuff in there.” I popped out of my chair and came to stand next to him. Before he could change his mind, I offered my hand to pull him up. The moment his skin slid against mine, I knew touching him was a mistake. His hands had calluses, but there was a smoothness to them too. They weren’t pampered, but I knew lotion when I felt it, and when the faint waft of vanilla and lavender hit, I knew where I’d smelled the lotion before—in the littles’ room at the club.

The universe clearly thought I was a joke.

“Anything usable in there?” I asked as I watched Casey rummage around the walk-in refrigerator.

It was hard to tell if the trip was successful. He grumbled about improper labels while shoving food into a trash can that he’d dragged into the corner. Every time a package hit the bin, I saw dollar signs pop up. Still, whatever it cost me to throw that stuff away, it was a hell of a lot less than food poisoning in my bar.

“Yeah, there’s stuff I can use, but I’m not risking anything that’s not sealed or labeled properly.” The way he said it, I could tell he expected me to argue. Nope. I wasn’t risking food poisoning, but Gerry’s job was done as of right now.

“You’re absolutely right. But is there enough to salvage something for tonight?”

Casey seemed to be waiting for me to snap, and I hated that he expected it.

“How much time do I have before things need to hit the tables?”

“If you prepped for an hour or so, would that give you a head start?”

“Could you spare someone to help me?”

“What about me? I’m sure Myla won’t mind if I’m not in her way.”

“Sorry, I should’ve clarified. I need someone with a food handler’s license. I’m not trying to get your place shut down.”

“Tonight’s your lucky night,” I said. “I’ve got mine. I knew there was always a chance I’d end up in the kitchen, so I got it as a precaution. And tonight, I’m damn grateful I did.”

Casey’s face broke into an ear-splitting grin.

“Ready to take some orders, boss?”

“Yes, Chef,” I answered with a laugh. Casey rolled his eyes but handed me an apron and nodded toward the sink.