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“No hard feelings,” Anton adds. “Besides, you gave me the fire I needed. Every kitchen needs a little
heat,
oui?”
…
The evening rush is in full swing, and I’m feeling that exhilarating mix of adrenaline and contentment
that
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtcomes from seeing the restaurant function like a well-oiled machine. The clinking of silverware, the
murmur of customers, and the sizzle from the kitchen—it’s all music to my ears.
I’m busy updating the specials on our chalkboard when Daisy rushes over, her eyes as wide as
saucers.
“Abby, there’s a guy here. Says he’s a journalist? He wants to talk to you.”
My gut clenches.”A journalist? Now? Why?”
Enter title…
Daisy shrugs, looking just as confused as I feel. “I don’t know, but he’s asking some really specific
questions. I didn’t know what to say.”
Taking a deep breath, I put down the chalk and head to the front of the restaurant, where a man with a
five
o’clock shadow and wearing a crumpled suit is flipping through a notepad. He looks up, his eyes sharp,
and extends a hand before I even have the chance to say anything.
“Richard Kohler. I’m with the Daily Dispatch. You’re Abby, right?”
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm“Yes, that’s me. What can I do for you?”
Richard glances around, his eyes taking in the interior of my restaurant, the pristine table settings, the
wall
decor, the soft lighting. It feels like he’s trying to see through the walls, and I’m not sure if I like it.
“So, Abby, word has gotten out that you’ve hired a homeless person as a chef in your kitchen. Care to
comment?”
His tone is casual, but his eyes are predatory. Suddenly, all of this feels like one big trap.
“Yes, I hired Anton,” I say cautiously. “And he’s been an excellent addition to the team. He’s more than
qualified for the job.”
Richard scribbles something in his notebook, not breaking eye contact. “Interesting choice, don’t you
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