I practically skip into the alley behind The Marrow, towel still draped over my shoulder and hair a mess, pulling out my phone like it owes me rent.
I scroll to her name, heart thumping with excitement.
Gracie Lin.
Sweet, brilliant, quiet as a mouse Gracie, who once beat a room full of cocky culinary bros at a blind taste test in under three minutes, then apologized to them while doing it.
I hit call.
She picks up on the second ring. “Josie?”
“Gracie!” I chirp way too loudly. “Hey. Are you still looking for a job? Like a new move? A cool opportunity? Maybe something with a view of mountains and an overly attractive but emotionally stunted boss?”
“I feel like that last part was specific.”
“It was.”
She laughs softly. “I mean, yeah. I’m still looking. My temp gig just ended, and I was planning on scouring job boards tonight while making sad mac and cheese.”
“Well, cancel the Kraft and hold the existential dread because I have a place for you.”
“You sound way too excited for this to be normal.”
“Because it’sperfect, Gracie. It’s a brand new restaurant here in Silver Peak. The Marrow. It’s gorgeous. Open kitchen, insanely cool menu, and actual foot traffic. And they needsomeone. Knox, he’s the owner, asked me if I knew anyone, and I immediately thought of you.”
There’s a pause.
“You sure?” she asks. “I mean, I don’t want to make things awkward for you if I’m not a fit.”
“Gracie,” I say, pacing beside the dumpster like a hyped up talent scout, “you could cook circles around anyone I’ve ever met. You’re soft spoken but deadly with a spatula. You’re Nigella Lawson with a heart of gold. Come work with me. Please.”
“Will I have to flirt with customers?”
“Absolutely not. This is not a flirt for tips kind of place. Although I can’t promise you won’t get harassed by our local baker, Queen Bea. She gives unsolicited romantic advice and shortbread in equal measure.”
Gracie hums thoughtfully. “Shortbread’s fine. Romance I can dodge.”
“That’s the spirit.”
Another soft laugh. “Okay. I’m in. When do I come in?”
I fist pump the air. “I’ll text you the address. Come tomorrow. Stay at the inn with me. Casual vibes. Bring your knives and your favorite apron. Maybe also, like, emotional armor if Knox is in one of his moods.”
Urgh, I keep mentioninghim, don’t I?
I keep saying his name.
Ihaveto try and stop that.
“Great,” she says, deadpan. “I’ll pack extra.”
CHAPTER NINE
Knox
The clatterof crates and the scent of herbs hit me before I even round the corner into the back hallway.
Gracie Lin, I assume.
