“I believe you.” Winter started to fiddle with the door, but a prep cook called them away, and Jax ended up staring at the walk-in again, frozen indisbelief. This was bad, really bad.
“What about the cameras?” He looked around, his shoulders sinking as he realized that this side of the kitchen had a lot of blind spots.
“Do you think Derrick hid in there?” Tristan peered inside, his eyes widening at the half-empty shelves.
“No, he must’ve waited until we left, then snuck back in, and opened the door.” Moving to the back of the kitchen, he checked the positions of the cameras. “And we were so focused on covering the stations that we left a lot of this area open. If he came in through the weird door by the pantry that no one ever uses, he could’ve gotten to the walk-in without being seen.Shit.”
Jax wanted to punch the wall again; he thought he’d prepared for any outcome, but he’d had the rug pulled out from under him. It made him look like he couldn’t handle being head chef, which was exactly the point.
Butwhywas this happening to him? Derrick wasn’t the first person to hate Jax, and he wouldn’t be the last, but no one had ever tried to ruin him before. And whatever this one-sided grudge was, it now extended outwards, affecting not just him, but also the clients and The Pointe as a whole.
Which was exactly why Derrick had done it, because it would make Jax the center of the blame.
But Jax wasn’t down yet.
“Wouldn’t he need a keyandthe alarm code to get in?” Tristan frowned, stroking his beard in thought.
“About thirty people have a key to this place, so he probably got his hands on one. And the alarm code was in the group chat last week.” Jax still had trouble processing this. His anger and disbelief had him on the edge, and he was using all his energy to keep the beast within at bay. Tristan’s proximity helped, and so did the voice of the first chef he’d ever worked with, which told him to keep the kitchen running at all costs.
He could do that. He could stuff it all down and get it together, figure out how to run this place, but the only thing he couldn’t do was deal with Derrick. Even though Jax had no hard evidence, his gut was enough. And after this sabotage? He was going to fly off the handle the second he saw Derrick’s face.
“Then we have to tell Owen and Marci everything today,” Tristan stated, still frowning.
“But we don’t have any proof! What am I going to say? That someone snuck in to open the walk-in because they hate me? It sounds like a straight-up lie. This is all my fault, no matter who’s doing it.” Jax put both hands in his hair and tugged hard.
“Jax…” Tristan gently circled his wrists, lowering Jax’s hands. “Before we say anything, let me check the footage again. I’ll see if we can catch him walking up to the building.”
But before he could leave, Owen and Marci entered the kitchen, alarm on their faces, and Jax began to sweat.
“Three people called me. They said the walk-in door was open when the morning crew came in?” Marci’s words held no judgment, only curiosity, which helped Jax relax the tiniest bit.
“Yeah.” He decided to stick to the facts. “Tristan and I were the last people out of the building-”
“And I watched Jax double-check that it was shut,” Tristan interrupted, more firm than usual.
“Then what happened?” Owen’s eyebrows shot up as he glanced into the walk-in.
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Jax explained, hoping that whatever he said might lead them there on their own. “We think there might’ve been a break-in.”
“Not a malfunction?” Marci checked the door. “I guess not, it locks fine.”
“Someone broke in here and left the door open? Did they take anything?” Running his gaze over the boxes that still needed to go outside, Owen pursed his lips, and Jax took in a deep breath, trying to steady himself.
“Can we figure that out later?” Winter came back, their quiet diplomacy working on Owen and Marci just as well as it did on the kitchen staff. “We have three weddings today, and the first bride will be here in a few hours.”
“And we’re already ninety minutes late for the morning prep team,” Jax added.
“That’s why I made some calls,” Marci said confidently. “We have abunch of servers coming in early to help.”
“Thanks, Marci,” Jax tried to put all the sincerity he could in his words and expression. “I know people who’ll sell to us wholesale. I might be able to get some sea bass and filet mignon.”
“I’ll call in a couple of favors too,” Tristan added, patting Jax’s shoulder. “You’re doing well,” he said under his breath, just loud enough for Jax to hear, and it helped him focus.
No matter how heavy, Jax donned the mantle of head chef, gritting his teeth and getting into gear. Was it unfair as fuck that this had happened to him? Yes. Would he deal with it once he solved the more immediate problem? Yes.
He must be growing as a person, because even though he still wanted to slam his fist into a wall, he sucked it up and managed to calm the beast within, planning to restore the missing inventory in less than two hours.
And the first thing he did was assemble The Squad. Twenty minutes later, Ollie walked in, bringing Finn instead of Rain, who was out on a shoot with Mason.
