Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 52100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Earthy, uneven stones would balance out the smooth hardwood floors, giving the great room a strong, rustic focal point. I didn’t want to build the farmhouse-style home the designer kept trying to get me into.
“Fuck shiplap,” Ray said, carefully setting the stone down.
“My man.” I fist-bumped him in agreement.
“The masons will be here Tuesday to get the fireplace done.”
I was looking forward to crackling fires on snowy winter evenings when the lake was frozen over. I’d ice-skated on the lake, and my kids would, too.
Maybe someday I’d have someone curled up beside me on those cold evenings. It wouldn’t happen for a while, though, if ever. My kids only had one parent left, and I didn’t want them to worry I’d leave them, too.
Hell, celibacy was nothing new to me. Andrea had stopped wanting sex with me a long time before she left me. At least now I knew there wasn’t even a hope it would change.
No one had it all, and that was something I’d just have to learn to live without.
CHAPTER SIX
Shea
“Well, I’m sure you made an impression,” Nina said, avoiding my gaze. “That’s never a bad thing.”
It was the afternoon after the cheesecake incident, and she was trying—unsuccessfully—to assure me Holt didn’t think I was a hot mess. We were prepping supplies for dinner while other cooks peeled potatoes and shucked corn.
“I made an impression alright,” I said, shaking my head.
“Do you remember him from high school? Was he close to your age?”
“Did you add that extra butter to the inventory?” I asked, looking up from my clipboard.
“Yep.”
I nodded and made a check mark on my inventory sheet. “Holt is three years older than me and two years younger than Grady. So I knew of him but never really knew him.”
“Gotcha. He seems like a really nice guy.”
I ignored her because I didn’t want the entire kitchen staff listening to this conversation. Nina was on a mission to fix me up with someone, and since she hadn’t been successful matchmaking me with any men in the Beard, she always had her eye out for attractive male guests.
“Darren, are you all set for the risotto?” I asked, walking over to the big butcher block island where he was peeling potatoes.
“Yeah,” he said.
I wasn’t confident in his risotto-making abilities, but I had to assign my best cooks to the dinner main courses.
“Don’t stop stirring,” I said. “Split it between two pots and stir one with each hand.”
“I’m not dumb. I know it takes two hands to stir two pots,” he said, offended.
“I didn’t mean it that way. And make sure the mushrooms aren’t just sliced, but chopped.”
He sighed heavily and muttered to the employee next to him. “Is she gonna follow me into the bathroom and tell me how to hold my dick when I take a piss?”
I looked up from my clipboard, taken aback. “Darren, I don’t care how you piss as long as you wash your hands when you’re done. I do care how you prepare food in my kitchen, and if that’s a problem for you, there’s the door.”
The room fell into complete silence as I gestured at the double doors. I wanted to fire him, but I couldn’t until I found a replacement.
“It’s no problem,” he mumbled.
“Shea?”
I turned toward Priscilla, who was standing in front of the kitchen doors, her arm around Spencer.
“You have a visitor,” she announced.
I smiled, hiding my slight panic. Hopefully Spencer hadn’t just heard me dressing down Darren.
“Hi Shea,” Spencer said, grinning. “Can I have cooking lessons?”
He was wearing one of the dark gray aprons sold in The Sleepy Moose’s gift shop, our logo embroidered on the chest. I didn’t know if it was the apron or his eager expression, but I couldn’t turn him down.
“Sure, I’ll put you to work,” I said. “But it might not be anything exciting since we’re preparing for dinner.”
“That’s okay.”
I motioned him over to the sink. “First, I’ll show you how we wash our hands.”
He listened intently to my instructions, washing his hands all the way up to his elbows. I ran through tonight’s menu, trying to think of a job he could safely do.
“Do you want to whip butter?” I asked him.
He nodded eagerly. “Sure.”
We served baskets of fluffy, fresh-baked rolls at dinner with a dish of whipped cinnamon butter. I showed Spencer how to add the ingredients to the bowls of several stand mixers and turn them on.
“It’s three thirty, Chef,” Priscilla called from the island.
That meant it was time to kick things into gear for dinner. I had everyone’s assigned jobs written on the job board, but I also usually did a quick predinner meeting.
The servers filtered into the kitchen, and soon, the full kitchen and serving staff were waiting for me to brief them on dinner.
“Okay, everyone,” I said. “Specials tonight are steak au poivre with red wine pan sauce, roasted fingerling potatoes and creamed spinach or roasted half chicken with mushroom risotto and roasted asparagus. The dessert special is peach tart with vanilla ice cream and caramel sauce.” I looked down at my clipboard. “We’re out of carrots, so no glazed carrots.” I looked back up, scanning the faces around me. “Remember to speak up if you’re falling behind at your station. Go to Nina first and if you can’t go to her, find me. We go from plate to table in less than a minute. Any questions?”