“Yeah, so I’m gonna get back to the ki—” I start to say, but Brenden flails his arms at me menacingly to shut me up.
“I don’t think so, missy.”
The threatening eyebrow raise I give him at calling me missy doesn’t seem to scare him like it normally would. He probably thinks his big, muscular boyfriend can protect him from my wrath.
“As I was going to say, you might think you’re sneaky, but I heard that you and a certain singer were hanging out together at Roddy’s.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. What is up with this damn town?” I didn’t expect the bartender, who was so friendly with Riley, to gossip about her. And the four old men who were there didn’t seem to be paying two shits of attention to us.
Leaning into Travis, who wraps an arm around his skinny waist, Brenden smirks at me. “Marvin O’Shea told his wife you two came in while he and his retiree buddies were having their weekly wives-free afternoon outing. And she told her friend Sue, who told Mrs. Pike, who told her niece Alison, who was talking about it at the diner over coffee with a couple of her friends, and Travis heard them and told me.”
I turn my dirty look on Travis, and to his credit, he looks at least somewhat remorseful. I’m used to Brenden being a gossip, but I thought Travis was better at minding his own business.
“Really? You had to spread it further?” I ask him. “You should stop letting Brenden rub off on you.”
“Sorry,” Brenden interjects, not sounding sorry at all, “but he loves it when I rub off on him.”
Travis flushes but stays silent.
Brenden continues like he didn’t just make an inappropriate comment in front of an employee. “So anyway, since you two seem to be awfully friendly lately, maybe you can go to the summer festival with her. Because you won’t be working, remember. Because I’m the best boss ever.”
“You’re... something.”
At my lame retort, Travis snorts, and Brenden beams at me. He obviously thinks he’s devised some sort of brilliant plan to make me fall in love with Riley Rowland. But that’s never going to happen. I’m not a masochist. I have no business falling for a sexually confused, very famous celebrity. That would only end in a disaster.
“For what it’s worth,” Travis says to me, “I knew Riley growing up, and back then, she was one of the most down-to-earth teenagers. I don’t imagine she would have let her fame change her too much.”
I throw up my hands in defeat. I’m clearly outnumbered here. “Ugh, I hate you both.”
“Impossible!” Brenden calls out as I turn and walk swiftly out of his office like I should have done the first time. “Everybody loves me!”
I wonder if the next person who buys the inn after I murder him will be normal.
I was going to call Connor about those peaches right away, but now as I get back to the kitchen, I’m feeling hesitant. Baking a dessert for the inn just to make one person happy would be silly. And I don’t need to add any fuel to Brenden’s matchmaking fire.
Thenextday,asI’m almost finished cleaning up after the dinner service, there’s a knock on the kitchen doors that’s so quiet I’m not sure I didn’t imagine it. Why would anyonebe knocking?
It’s only me and Sam left in here. He pauses as he’s putting away some prepped ingredients for tomorrow’s menu, the confusion on his face matching mine. So he obviously heard it too.
“Uh, yeah?” I call out.
Very slowly, one door starts to swing open. The red hair is the first thing I see before Riley pokes her head through, looking nervous.
“Hi, um, sorry, hi,” she stammers. “Brenden told me you were still here. I wanted to tell you how much I loved the peach cobbler today.” Laughing awkwardly, she adds, “I ordered some at lunchanddinner.”
She hasn’t stepped inside the kitchen, which I appreciate, because guests really shouldn’t be in here. Surely, it’s against health code and the insurance policy.
But Sam is standing a few feet away, swiveling his head back and forth between me and Riley with wide eyes like he’s trying to put together the clues to solve a mystery, and I don’t like that.
So, wiping my hands on a dish towel, I tell her, “You can come in. Just don’t touch anything.” Then I turn to Sam to let him know that he can head out and I’ll finish up myself.
See? I’m a good boss.
Sam still looks bewildered, but he nods, sticking the pan he’s holding in the reach-in before leaving. Hopefully, he doesn’t mention this to Brenden. Not that I think he’d try to get me in trouble. But he might feel the urge to gossip. And lord knows Brenden would love that.
Once we’re alone, Riley comes over to me, slowly and cautiously, like she understands this space is supposed to be employees-only. “It’s funny,” she says, resting one hand on the edge of the prep table, opposite where I’m standing, “because I was actually having a conversation yesterday with my brother about this restaurant we used to go to all the time that had the best peach cobbler. It’s been my favorite dessert since I was a kid, and I was excited to go get some from there. But he told me the place wasn’t open anymore, so I was pretty upset.”
“Yeah?” I say, feigning disinterest, but feeling like I have to say something when she pauses to stare me down.
