Page 1 of The Accidental (Redemption Inc.)

February Winters.

As much as Feb loved her parents, she cursed them daily for that particular gift.

According to them, it was in honor of her February fourteenth birthday.

Valentine , they’d said, was too on the nose.

And February wasn’t? If she had to guess, her dad had caught a case of Captain Obvious from all that John Madden Football he’d played, and after thirty-six hours of labor, her mom had been too damn tired to care.

The name was hell as a kid, and it only got more hellish as she climbed the professional kitchen ladder. Food critics loved a punny headline, and February Winters was a picnic basket full of fucking eye rolls.

February is Not for Lovers.

WinterHell’s Kitchen.

February’s Cold Winter.

All because she refused to open Under the Table, her baby, a shining star of the San Francisco food scene, on Valentine’s Day.

Because she refused to serve some boring as fuck prix fixe menu like every restaurant was expected to do that one night a year when everyone took their sweetheart out for dinner.

One, she didn’t do sweethearts.

Two, it was her birthday.

Three, it was everything Under the Table wasn’t.

But this year... she decided to do it. On her terms.

Even a date with her maybe-sweetheart after.

Her terms, however, did not include hiding under the table at her restaurant by the same fucking name, but there she was.

Feb was not looking forward to tomorrow’s punny headlines.