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“The man has a big heart, piccola, but he is not designed for the service industry.”
A laugh escapes me.
“It’s true,” Lina insists. “He’s making too much small talk. He thinks he’s at a dinner party.”
I get it. Leon is a people person. Like Lina, he loves to talk—or more accurately, to gossip. Normally, it’s why we love him, but on a day when the restaurant is this packed, there’s no time to stop and chitchat. Especially when Lina is running around like a hurricane.
“You think he can handle the host stand until Randy gets here?” I suggest. “Keep the line moving and the names organized?”
Lina hesitates. Her eyes scan the sea of hungry faces. “Yes . . . but that would leave you alone on the floor.”
I place my hands on her shoulders. “I can handle it, Lina. I’ve been trained by the best.”
“Grazie, cara,” she says, giving me a quick peck on my cheek.
I take a deep breath, feeling all those core muscles that Max taught me to engage earlier as I straighten my posture. They ache, but that’s nothing new. Most days, my body feels like one giant, overworked muscle, anyway. I put on my game face, grab a water carafe, and head into the fray.
On a normal Tuesday, the restaurant hits a lull around two. We’d usually flip the sign to “Closed,” take a breather, and prep for the dinner rush, reopening at five.
But thanks to the “Hidden Gems” segment, the front door is a revolving door of curious tourists and locals who’ve lived three blocks away for years and have somehow never noticed us.
“Lina, I have two more family specials for you,” I say, stepping into the kitchen.
The words die in my throat. The kitchen is in absolute chaos.
Every single burner is occupied. Pans sizzle. Tickets hang in long, curling rows above the pass, and every inch of counter space has disappeared beneath prep bowls, chopping boards, and ingredients.
“Lina?” I say hesitantly.
“I’m fine, cara.” She doesn’t look up from the stove. Her hands are moving at warp speed.
“Two family specials. Got it.”
“I can ask Leon to take over the dining room if you need me to—”
“No. I need you out there.” She gives a pot a stir before reaching for the next ticket. “There’s no one I trust more to keep the orders straight and the customers happy.”
She slides two steaming plates onto the pass.
“Spinach-and-tomato ziti and mushroom ravioli for table eight.”
“Got it.”
I sweep up the plates and hurry back into the dining room.
An hour later, as I’m carrying in another stack of dirty plates, Lina wipes her brow with her forearm and frowns at me. “You need to take a break, cara.”
“I’m good, Lina. Seriously,” I say, leaning against the door frame for just a second to let my pulse level out. “Now if you want to take a breather, I just saw Randy slip into the office. He can cover the floor, and I can take over the cooking back here. The “Closed” sign is up. We only have tables one and six left finishing their meals.”
Yes, my legs are throbbing, but adrenaline is keeping me upright. This is Lina’s big break. I’m not about to let her lose this momentum. These people need to see exactly why this place is a real hidden gem.
And if I’m being selfish, I’m having the best tip day of my life. Between the house crisis and Coral Bay, that’s more than enough motivation to keep me moving.
Lina pauses and looks at me with a mother’s eagle eye. “Cara, you must be exhausted. You’ve been up and running since before the sun, haven’t you?”
“I’m a little tired, but it’s nothing a shot of espresso won’t fix,” I say, offering her a determined grin.
She hesitates. “How is Leon doing? Has he gone back to the office yet?”