Standing there, stunned, a scream working its way up from somewhere deep in my soul, Wilder leaves me somehow more off-kilter than I was before the mind-shattering orgasm.
And it’s as I’m gathering my belongings, closing up my computer for the night, some twenty minutes of staring (not screaming) into the void, that the call I’ve been unable to answer so many times recently comes in yet again.
Sighing, I look down and hit accept.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Princess! How’s everything going at our diner?”
NINE
WILDER
“Ready crew?”
“Yes, Chef!” comes the chorus of all of our staff around me.
Full house for opening day, even if we wouldn’t normally schedule everyone at the same time.
Today’s a day they should all experience together. Where we go from co-workers to a real team, and this victory will belong to all of us.
“Let’s open the front door,” Lexi says decisively. “And remember, smiles up front, meltdowns back here.”
“I never said I’d smile,” Wanda quips, making Tracy and her daughter Violet laugh loudly.
“You get a free pass,” Lexi calls back over her shoulder to Wanda as the front of house staff disappear through the swinging doors.
“You really think all these folks are gonna come through today?” Charlie asks, eyes eager as he holds his phone out for Samuel, Dishy, and I to see.
A post in the town Facebook group that’s got comment after comment beneath it, all saying they can’t wait to stop by on opening day to check out the newest place in town. I can’t help but notice most of those comments were from women, and I’mnot sure they’re hungry just for food, based on a few of those gifs in the comment section.
Samuel shakes his head and whistles. “Not counting any chickens, but half of them come through and we’ll be busier than the diner ever was.”
“Hope you’re ready, old man.” I clap a hand on one of his shoulders and laugh at the face he makes, his graying mustache twitching.
“Communication!” I shout to the back of house staff, like we haven’t been going over the same points for the last week straight. But now is when it counts.
Prep is one thing. Dry run is another.
Opening day is a whole new beast.
As long as we get our timing right, plates aren’t dying in the window, and Charlie speaks up when he needs help instead of drowning like a hero, we should be just fine.
The door swings inward, Tracy rushing in, face lit up, huge menu in hand. “First order!” she calls out excitedly, tapping the laminated menu. “Strawberry salad, with chicken, not a lot of dressing.” She hands the ticket to me.
“Strawberry salad,” I call to Charlie, where he is about to jump out of his skin with excitement. “Light dressing, add chicken.”
“It’s for Rory,” Tracy says in a giddy whisper, then she runs back out to the front.
“Firing chicken,” Samuel calls from next to me.
“Strawberry salad, light dressing,” Charlie confirms the order, and runs to the walk-in fridge.
I pause from where I’ve been placing the ticket on the expo line and stare at him.
“Charlie!” I bark.
He skids to a comical stop in front of the walk-in door. “Yes, Chef?”
