Holding my arms out to my side, I say, “There’s nothing little about me,Boss. Feel free to check for yourself.”
Seems like my body is her favorite thing about me, maybe if she pats me down it’ll convince her to give me another ride.
Hopefully the use of her title reminds her of when she told me that’s what I could call her.
I know I’ll never hear the wordbossagain without remembering what her face looks like after she comes. Almost like this, actually.
Nostrils flaring, cheeks flushing, she breathes heavily, staring me down as she tries to find new words.
My grin peeks out at her as the seconds tick by.
Finally, she gets on another train of thought. “You went behind my back yesterday!”
That’s an aggressive way to put it, but Lexi is determined to see me through her shit-tinted glasses that she only breaks out for me.
She’s a doll to the other staff—I watched her all week hold the waitstaff’s hands while they prepped front of house—but when it comes to Wilder Amante? Her fists are ready to fly no matter what I say or do. No one else in the kitchen, just me.
Like I said, I don’t mind the challenge.
Putting a smooth smile on my face that could calm even the angriest New Yorker when they asked for no onions but got them anyway, I speak up. “I brought the matter to the townspeople, because that’s all you said management cared about. And I think it’s safe to say, the people of Smoky Heights have spoken.”
“And why do you think that,Chef?”
Now’s not the time to let my full grin out, but, shit, I’m not that good at hiding it most times.
Why would I bother? I didn’t have a reason to smile for years, it’s hard not to take advantage of every opportunity now.
“Well,Boss, pretty sure you saw the results for yourself by now, but if you’d like me to narrate the comments section for you on the poll I put up in the town Facebook group, I’d be happy to.”
Her shoulders rise and fall with every breath she takes, fists clenched on the desk across from me as I look to the screen, at the window that’s been open the whole time.
Every time the device dings with a new vote or supportive comment rolling in, something in my gut bubbles with hope for this plan of mine after all.
I know my food is fucking incredible. Aurora knows. Hell, everyone who’s tried it would have to admit my shit is way fucking better than your average diner dishes.
Lexi is the only one who seems obsessed with making sure the food here is as boring as possible. And that’s just because of that little vendetta she’s holding against me.
First, for offending her precious downtown, and second, I’m assuming she’s blaming me for the way she wants me. Like it’s my fault she rode my thigh like it would get her the Triple Crown.
But I know my suggestions on the menu are an absolute no brainer, and it seems like the entire town does too. “Option A: cheeseburger with American or cheddar and fries,” I read from the screen.
She cuts in, sharp tongue at the ready. “If you’re finding something wrong with the American staple of the star-spangled cheeseburger, I don’t think working behind the line at a small-town diner is the right choice for you.”
My head tilts to one side. “Would we call this a diner? It’s more of a café, I’d say. Especially once we elevate this menu. You might even call it a bistro.” I tap the desk with a thick finger. “And you only think that limp burger sounds good because you haven’t tasted the Love Burger.”
Lexi scoffs, hands braced on the desk as she leans in closer to me. “There’s nothing wrong with our burger! They even get their choice, Americanorcheddar.”
I almost wish I wore glasses so I could push them up my nose as I keep reading from the screen, grin firmly lodged in place. “Or option B: house-made chophouse burger blend of chuck and brisket, grilled to order and topped with melted Gruyère, caramelized onions, fresh tomato jam, a bed of arugula, and an herbaceous aioli on a warm brioche bun. Your choice of crispy hand-cut fries or kettle chips.”
“Nobody says herbaceous, that is ridiculous,” she scoffs, her head bouncing around with all that attitude.
I move onto the next item. “The chicken sandwich. Option A?—”
Her bark of speech cuts me off. “I remember the menu, get on with it.”
“As you wish,” I tell her with a grin, turning back to the screen. “Onto the feedback. ‘Oh my God, is Heights Bites open yet? I NEED these in my mouth! B, hands down, B across the board.’” A purr rumbles deep in my throat, vibrating in my chest. “Shesounds eager.”
I don’t have to look up at Lexi to know she’s vibrating from something else herself.
