Page 72

Sam was intense, but in a good way.

“He’s actually a lovely boss,” Alli said. “No, this is about getting a job in my field. I went to school for journalism.”

“I see,” Tate said. “You want to talk to Gabe about a job?”

“Yes, I dropped off my resume and audition tape when I first came to town, but the receptionist basically told me that I was scum and not to expect a call back. I thought I might have better luck speaking with him directly.”

“You’re going to interrupt his lunch to talk about possible employment? He might be the type that gets hangry.”

That had occurred to her, but she’d told herself not to be a wuss.

“Is he?”

“I don’t think so,” Tate laughed. “But then he likes me because I bring him food. Wait, that’s your angle. Make him like you.”

It would certainly make things easier if Gabe Hudson liked her. But how?

“I want him to like me so much, he’ll hire me for a job.”

“I have an idea. Come back to the kitchen with me. We’re going to make it happen.”

“I’m afraid to ask what you have in mind,” she replied nervously, following him out of the office and into the much warmer and noisier kitchen.

“He’s pleasant to me because I bring him food,” Tate said again. “You’re going to bring him the best chicken sandwich we’ve ever made in the history of this place. One bite and he’ll adore you.”

“I don’t think I follow you.”

Tate patiently explained to her that he would let her take Gabe’s food to his table. It would give her an excuse to approach him, plus he was getting delicious food, too. Wouldn’t that put anyone in a good mood?

“Frankly, it’s better than any of the ideas that I had,” she conceded.

“Which were?”

“Mostly just me sliding into the chair on the other side of the table and begging for him to watch my audition tape after profusely apologizing for disturbing his lunch. I figured I’d do that last part several times to make sure he knew I was truly sorry but desperate.”

“That might have worked,” Tate laughed. “Can I tell you a secret? Gabe is a nice guy. Truly. He can be tough when he needs to be, but mostly he’s pretty laidback.”

That would be the opposite of most of the station managers she’d worked for in her career.

“I hope you’re right, because I still am disturbing his lunch, and I’m still sorry about it.”

There was the ding of a bell, and then a plate of food was placed on a countertop.

“Okay, you’re up,” Tate said. “Do you want an apron to protect your clothes? Wait, he likes the buffalo sauce on the side, not the barbecue. Let me quickly fix that before you take it to him.”

“I don’t need an apron. I’m planning to be careful, and besides, I want him to see me in professional attire.”

“Good plan,” Tate nodded approvingly. “Are you ready? Careful, the plate is hot.”

Was she ready? That was a good question, and the answer was totally debatable. If she was going to do this, it was now or never. Whether this was wise, stupid, crazy, or just plain dumb was about to be revealed.

I may be an idiot.

Weren’t her parents always saying that fortune favored the bold? It’s what they would say when they were about to upend everyone’s lives and move someplace new. Again.

Am I taking advice from my flighty parents now? What has happened to my life?

Carrying the warm plate out of the kitchen and through the dining room, Alli forced herself to take several deep breaths. This was her one and only shot. If she messed this up, she could forget ever working in journalism in Winslow Heights. In fact, she might have to move simply because she would become a joke among the townspeople.