The door to Abby’s office swings shut behind me, and my mind races as I walk back into the kitchen. First, she asks me to make nice with Chloe, and now this? Apprenticing under John, of all people? A guy I can’t even stand to be in the same room with? “Karl, grab the veal from the fridge. Now.” Jo
I’m standing by the stainless steel counter, doing my best to look like I’m occupied with inventory and prepping the dough for our fresh bread in the morning. But my real focus is on the fiery dance unfolding in front of me—Karl and John, circling each other in the kitchen like two alpha wolves in
With a final deep breath to center myself, I tuck my phone back into my pocket. It’s time to return to the battlefield that is my kitchen, to the tensions and trials that still await me there. … The kitchen is bustling with activity, the aroma of sautéed garlic and simmering sauces filling the a
Standing in the alley, the tension between Karl and me is almost palpable, like a living, breathing entity that neither of us can ignore. His eyes search mine, as if trying to excavate the truth from deep within me. “Is it true, Abby? Your wolf is—” I cut him off, not wanting to delve into that
My eyes snap back to him, incredulous. “Get out, John.” “What?” “Get out,” I repeat, my voice icy. “And come back when you’re ready to speak to me with the respect I deserve as your boss.” For a moment, he just stares at me, as if trying to decide whether or not I’m serious. Then, with a huff
The aroma of freshly baked bread and simmering tomato sauce fills the air as I sit at my desk, reviewing the inventory for the week. It’s still early in the day, but the restaurant has already started to come alive. My eyes flit over numbers and figures, but my thoughts keep drifting to the chaos
“What happened?” I rush over, my eyes narrowing with concern. “I, erm… I rolled my ankle while serving table nine. Just give me five minutes and I’ll get back out there,” she says, grimacing with each word. I take one look at her flushed face, her ankle swelling before my eyes, and shake my head
Abby My office is silent as I scroll through the new emails that have landed in my inbox. My fingers drum on the desk, anticipating the one email that I’ve been waiting for the most—the details of the upcoming cooking competition. And then, there it is, bolded and marked with high importance: Co