* * *
Jenny headed into the kitchen to talk to Opal and discuss making the kitchen run as smoothly as possible. She refused to think of Cain. She didn’t have time for a man in her life. Even if she did, after Richard, she was too wary of men to get involved in a relationship.
Not that Cain would be interested. According to the tabloids, the man had dated a legion of women, though his brief affairs hadn’t lasted long. Jenny didn’t want to be included among them.
She found Opal at the big stainless sink in the huge, modern kitchen.
“Are you ready to get started?” Jenny asked.
“I am,” Opal said, wiping her plump hands on a clean, white dishtowel. She was a tidy woman, her short, salt-and-pepper hair neatly trimmed and held back with clips on each side of her round, pink-cheeked face. Jenny liked her.
“How do you want to do this?” Opal asked.
“Let’s just take a walk around. You can give me a rundown of how things are progressing.”
“All right.”
The tour started with the large pieces of equipment. Jenny liked the handy way the spices were laid out for ready access, the cookware and utensils, pots and pans in easy reach above the counter. But when she saw the flatware and dishes to be used in the dining room, she frowned.
“Those pottery plates are gorgeous,” she said, picking one up and judging the weight. “But good Lord, they’re heavy. The servers won’t be able to carry them, or at least they’ll have to carry them one or two at a time. That means multiple trips to the same table, and that costs time and money, plus it slows down the service.”
Opal was nodding. “That’s what I told Ms. Beauchamp, but she said the bold design statement was worth it.”
“Ms. Beauchamp? You mean Millicent?”
“The decorator, yes.”
A noise sounded in the doorway. Cain stood in the opening, his gaze fixed on Opal. “Millie’s here to decorate the place, not tell you how to run your kitchen.”
Opal said nothing. Cain’s presence was definitely intimidating.
“The heavy plates are going to be difficult for the staff to handle,” Jenny explained.
“So I gathered,” Cain said. He walked over, picked up one of the gorgeous black pottery dishes, and frowned. “Jenny’s right. Beautiful but not practical. Get rid of them, and get something more functional.”
“Ms. Millicent is gonna be real unhappy if we change the stuff she picked,” Opal warned.
“Then she’ll just have to be unhappy. From now on, you and Jenny have the final word in the kitchen. That goes for the service in the dining room, as well.”
Opal glanced at Jenny, then back to Cain. Her smile was almost a grin. “Whatever you say, Mr. Barrett.”
“It’s just Cain, Opal. We’re all working together here.”
Opal’s smile widened even more. She was younger than she first appeared, probably mid-forties. If the biscuits and jam were any indication, the lady knew how to cook.
Jenny worked through the day, sticking with the kitchen and dining area, making some inventory lists, checking equipment and ease of access.
A little before five, she left to return to the Copper Star. The after-work crowd, along with a day’s worth of tired shoppers, started drifting in around five p.m. She walked into the saloon, saw that it was just beginning to fill, ducked in to check on preparations in the kitchen, then went back to spell Barb, who was overdue for a break.
Twenty minutes later, Dylan pushed through the swinging doors. He spotted Jenny in an instant and walked straight toward her, pulled her in for a hug.
“What are you doing here?” Jenny asked as the warm hug ended. “You’re supposed to be at work.”
“I just heard what happened Saturday night. Why the hell didn’t you call me?”
Jenny sighed. There were few secrets in Jerome. The attempted rape, ensuing fistfight, and arrest would be the top gossip for days, maybe weeks. “Cain showed up in time to take care of the problem. I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Cain.So you two are on a first-name basis now?”
