Page 21 of Chef
Until then, I gotta think of ways to make her fall for me all while keeping her safe, hunting down Ashfall and this Nathaniel fucker. What’s the worst that can happen?
Sage
“Huh?” I ask for the 1000th time before realizing that TumTum isn't talking to me.
No, for the 1000th time he’s talking to his meat. I try not to snort but this man really loves the whole pit master thing with his full chest. He’s over there, slapping some concoction onto the meat that’s slowly cooking, chatting away to it like it’s his long lost bestie.
“You’ll get used to it,” Sniper says quietly as he goes about his business. Whatever that is.
Somehow working at the BBQ Shack seemed like it was going to be easy and a way to keep my mind off of things. Instead I’ve been wrapping cutlery in paper napkins and organizing paper plates. Not quite as glamorous as I pictured but at least the uniform is cute. It’s a black tee with a cute pig butt on the front. And a baseball cap. Which means I can wear my jeans and sneakers, and not have to do my hair. That’s a win in my mind.
“We got about three minutes ‘fore it all goes to hell. You set?”
I stare at Damian, not sure what he’s talking about. I’ve been here three hours and the only customers we’ve had are two older men who are only here for the beer. I slowly turn, eyes roving over the empty restaurant. Actually, restaurant is a loose term for the BBQ Shack. It’s a big open wooden building, like an old barn. The floors are concrete that is stained with what I hope is BBQ sauce and meat drippings. The tables are long, wooden picnic table types, with benches on either side. There are nosingle tables, so everyone gets to sit all together, or like those two old men, one at each end of the table.
“I think I’ll be good,” I say, giving him a smile.
I’ve managed to work a full moon night shift at Rose Grove’s Emergency Room. I’m sure I can handle serving at the BBQ Shack in small town Louisiana.
“Okaaaay, if you say so.” Damian shrugs and smirks at Sniper.
“What was that look for?” I point at his smug face.
He says nothing, walking backwards toward TumTum who is still chatting away to his meat. Turning back to my cutlery I make sure it’s all lined up neat. Not sure why, they’re all plastic, but that doesn't mean I can’t zhoosh this place up a little. I could probably design some new menus or something. Bring in some flowers to soften the look. Maybe even white wash the walls. I grab my phone off the counter and pull up Pinterest, ready to search up shack makeovers when the first vehicle pulls into the parking lot, kicking up dust.
“They’re heeeeere!” Damian yells, head thrown back as he shakes his head back and forth. “Let’s get the party started!”
***
I’m going to die. I’m sure of it. The place is slammed and it feels like I’ve been running nonstop. There are no numbers to hand out which means I have to remember who ordered the “Ribbed for your Pleasure” with a side of “Slaw and Order” and who ordered the “Cluck around and find out chicken burger” with “Mac Daddy Cheese”.
“Sage! I got two servings of Meat Sweats!” TumTum yells from the back.
I tuck my sweaty flyaways into my cap and speed walk to the back, passing Damian with around six different plates in hishands. Oh to be fucking massive and have hands the size of hubcaps.
“I got this one, go take a break, girl,” Sniper says in his low voice as he carries the Meat Sweats meals past me.
I roll my head back on my shoulders, take a breath then blow it out. I’m not taking a break while we’re slammed, no way. Pulling my shoulders back I head back behind the counter, ready to take on the small line that is beginning to form. It seems as soon as one person leaves a table, two new people turn up to order.
“Hey welcome to the BBQ Shack, what can I get ya?”
“What the hell are you doing here, Sage? You’re meant to be laying low!”
Closing my eyes I take a breath then meet Chef’s gaze. He’s pissed. For no real reason. I’m working with three MC brothers. And I’m packing.
“What’s that? You want the Last Meal Combo?” I ask with a raised brow.
Chef’’s eyes close slowly but I don’t miss his lip twitching. “You’re a pain in the ass, girly.”
“Yeah. I know. Look, I just can't sit around all day stewing. TumTum needed a hand, I needed a job, boom! Match made in Heaven.” I glance around before turning and pulling up the hem of the back of my shirt.
“Good girl,” Chef murmurs and I ignore how those words go straight to my vagina. The traitor.
“Yo, I ain’t got time for you two to flirt so speed this the fuck up.” Some rude douche from behind Chef yells. “You, Small Tits, move that fat ass and gimme the Low and Slow. To go.”
I blink once, then twice.
“What the fuck did you just say to her?” Chef says, so low it comes out as a growl.
