Page 62 of Devoured By the Forbidden Mountain Man

By ten-thirty, the appetizer station was stocked with everything that could safely wait for service, the bar had its backup glassware, and the front-door arrangement had survived a test run involving two servers, one barback, and Case volunteering to play an unnecessarily demanding party guest.

I ignored the performance and watched the traffic. The wristband table stayed far enough to one side that regular dinner guests could reach the host stand without cutting through the party line. A second staff member could step in once arrivals grew heavy, and nobody carrying food had to cross the incoming crowd.

“Leave it,” I told the owner. “Once people start coming through, resist the urge to improve it.”

He laughed. “You really think that’s what I’ll do?”

“I watched you almost move two high-tops yesterday because you were nervous.”

Case passed us carrying a crate of clean glasses. “It was two times. I prevented the second attempt through personal sacrifice.”

The owner gave him a look and headed toward the kitchen.

Case waited until he was gone before lowering his voice. “The personal sacrifice was listening to him explain why the table would look better six inches to the left.”

I took one end of the glass crate from him. “Your courage will be remembered.”

Rex reached us before Case and I had gone three steps. He took the heavier end without interrupting, and the three of us carried the glasses toward the bar.

The Lantern House had filled steadily with people preparing for the night. Kitchen staff moved between prep tables and ovens. Someone strung the last run of small orange lights around the front windows. A server polished water glasses at one end of the bar while Case checked bottles and garnishes at the other. Every few minutes the playlist started, stopped, or skipped forward as somebody tested another section.

Outside, the October sky had darkened from pale gray to a heavier blanket of clouds over downtown. Wind rattled dry leaves against the front windows, but the weather stayed clear enough that I didn’t have to picture Gavin fighting rain on the mountain roads.

Rex settled the crate where Case wanted it. When I turned away, his palm landed briefly at my waist to guide me around a barback coming through with another load.

Case’s gaze dipped to Rex’s hand, then came back to my face with unmistakable interest before he wisely reached for the glasses instead. I gave him a warning look, and he smiled beautifully without commenting, which counted as progress.

The kitchen lead caught me at the swinging doors a few minutes later to confirm the timing on the cold platters. The food itself was still refrigerated where it belonged, so we walked through what needed to come out first and what could wait until closer to party service. When we finished, I crossed the room in time to see the vendor delivery go directly to the person assigned to receive it instead of materializing in the middle of kitchen prep. The entertainment equipment was already through the back hall before the cooks needed the space, and nobody had blocked the service lane again.

The absence of drama felt like its own kind of success.

Near the first party section, a server stopped me to ask whether they should open it before the regular dining room filled. I looked toward the host stand, checked the reservation flow, and told her to hold it for now. Before I had gone ten feet, the kitchen lead leaned out to confirm the second round of hot-food timing and Case caught my attention from behind the bar to ask whether the cider backup belonged there or at the smaller service station.

The owner had begun sending people to me whenever a decision touched more than one part of the room. I didn’t need a title to understand what that meant. I answered what I knew, asked questions when I didn’t, and kept moving.

Sometime after one, the kitchen put out staff food in the back prep area. I filled a plate with baked pasta, salad, and bread, poured a large glass of water, and sat at the end of the bar for the first uninterrupted fifteen minutes I’d had all morning.

Rex joined me with his own plate. Case arrived a minute later, still carrying a roll of black ribbon he’d apparently been ordered to put somewhere decorative.