Series: Paige Michaels
Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
To her surprise, he picked the red still lying on the table and drew a larger heart next to hers before kissing the top of her head. He didn’t say anything about it but just handed her his crayon so she could put it away.
It took several tries to put the picture up in the perfect spot. She loved that her Daddy didn’t mind if she changed her mind a few times.
“I love it there,” he told her when she’d decided. “Bath time, Precious Girl.”
Maya peeked over her shoulder at the picture before they left the kitchen. Those two hearts seemed just like a Daddy and his Little girl. She loved it.
Chapter Ten
“Can you stay through the dinner rush tonight, Maya?” Mateo asked, looking frazzled.
“Did Shelly call in sick again?” Maya asked, looking at her brother in concern.
“She did. She told me she had a migraine. I’m afraid this is the last straw.”
“You can’t fire her because she has a horrible headache,” Maya pointed out.
“She just posted this,” Mateo said, turning his phone around to show her a video of Shelly dancing with a bottle of wine in her hand. The loud music and crush of people around her revealed she was currently at a concert.
“I can stay tonight. You don’t need me to waitress, do you?”
“I do, but you can take Beto’s spot doing dishes, and he can serve tonight if you’d rather,” Mateo told her.
“Definitely,” she answered. “I’ll clean up here and head that way.”
“You’re sure you want to run the dishwasher?” Mateo double-checked.
“Over serving? Yes!”
“Okay. Remember, it was your choice.”
Maya hadn’t ever run the dishwasher for an evening meal. She knew how the machine worked and frequently ran a few trays through to clean up her own mess. It seemed totally easy. Rack everything. Squirt it with the spray nozzle. Push it into the machine. Load another. Repeat the process.
“Maya! I’m running out of cups. Can you run a few through?” Mateo called as he walked into her work area a few hours later.
“Cups? Sure, I can do that,” Maya assured him and turned in a tired circle as she processed how to do that task.
Three overflowing carts of dishes were lined up for her to clean. The space on the far side of the dishwasher held racks two deep as she pushed another filled rack into the machine. There was no place for it to emerge from the dishwasher. She needed more room.
Racing over to the drying racks, she slid on the wet floor and crashed into the table for what felt like the seventieth time. Maya didn’t want to see the bruises on her stomach.
“Whoa, Maya. Be careful. You should mop up the extra water so you don’t slip.”
“When, Mateo? When am I going to do that?” she demanded. “The machine got clogged and it took me thirty minutes to get it cleared out. Now, I’m so far behind everything is stacking up.”
She knew she looked like she’d run herself through the dishwasher. Soaked through to the skin, the scarce amount of makeup she wore had melted off her face an hour ago. Her shoes were so wet they made squishing noises with each step. How in the world did the dishwashers do this job?
“Maya? You look like I did my first night,” Beto told her as he came around the corner, pushing another cart of dirty dishes. “We’re out of carts on the floor. Let me help you.”
“It was all going well until the machine got clogged,” she told them. “It’s working now.”
“How can I help?” Mateo asked.
“If you could each take some of the clean dishes away, I can run more through,” she suggested, waving a hand at those racks she’d stacked up. “Mateo, there are some cups. I’ll put a couple more racks through right now.”
“Do you want to switch places?” Beto asked.
“I can’t go out there like this, and I’m not a quitter,” Maya said quietly. She wanted to stamp her foot but knew that water would fly out in a spray.
“Beto, I’ll bring out a new cart. You take a rack to the cooks. Tell them to come back to grab another,” Mateo decreed.
“I’m sorry. I’ll do better,” Maya said, blinking back tears.
“We work together in this restaurant. I’m sorry I didn’t notice the machine broke down. Usually, I’m the only one who can fix it. I’m impressed you were able to help me with that. Now, all of us will pitch in to get back on track.”
To her delight as she sprayed off the next rack, one of the cooks came back to empty two racks and scoop up the dishes. As soon as he disappeared, a server appeared to grab a rack of coffee mugs. The backup slowly disappeared as she worked until she’d finished all the piled-up carts.