Page 4 of New Year

One day, Chase wouldn’t be able to do that anymore.

“Two steak frites, chef, one rare, one medium,” the cook said as he delivered the plates to the pass.

Zack wiped the edges of the plates, spotted the server and handed them over. She took the plates with a nervous smile. His other new hire, Phoebe, was young, soft-spoken, and a student at Reynolds College who was staying in town for the summer taking extra credits. But she was also smart, had memorized the menu before starting her first shift, and seemed eager to learn.

Shelton, on the other hand…Zack wasn’t as sure about him. But Shelton had come with eleven years of server experience in various restaurants, including fine dining. River Bistro was no Le Bernardin, but they had recently received one Michelin star, which had been Chase’s lifelong dream.

God knew if he’d survive long enough to earn another one.

Shelton returned to the floor. Zack strode over to the wash line where Shelton had taken the bussed entrée plates. Zack made it his priority to check returning plates, so he knew what guests were eating or not eating, as it helped with menu and portion planning. He’d seen a dinner roll on one plate and pasta aglio e olio on another. The pasta was on top of the trash heap in the can, but the roll was not.

Shelton hadn’t gone near the garnish station, though, so he hadn’t returned the bread for reuse, which was absolutely against safety standards. You didn’t serve one guest a roll, and then try to sell it to someone else if it went uneaten. Not in Zack Matteson’s kitchen.

If the roll wasn’t in the garbage, then it was in Shelton’s apron or pocket. But why steal a bread roll? They were made in-house with Chase’s own developed recipe, and were absolutely delicious, but why steal when they were also served at family meal? He’d almost expect that from someone who’d never worked in a kitchen before, nipping off the leftovers, but not someone with Shelton’s experience.

Zack wasn’t going to interrupt service over one roll, so he watched. And made a mental note to talk to Chase about his own food policies. While Chase had given Zack free rein to run the restaurant his own way, Chase was still his oldest friend. His first love. And River Bistro was Chase’s baby. Zack still wanted Chase’s input.

Shelton returned to the kitchen with more plates. Zack watched Shelton scrape both and place them in the sink. Then he approached Zack. “My last table just left. Can I take a smoke break before I start clean-up?”

“Yes,” Zack replied. His fingers twitched, reaching for a pack that wasn’t there anymore. He’d smoked for a long time, thanks to his extended work in the restaurant industry, but he’d quit three years ago as part of starting over and becoming a new man. Cigarettes, pot, alcohol binges, and party drugs, all out of his life.

Along with a lot of other things that used to define who he was as a man.

Smoke breaks occurred in the alley behind the restaurant, in a designated area six feet down, so the smell stayed out of the kitchen. Zack considered following Shelton to see if he went outside to eat the missing roll that he had no proof was stolen, but Phoebe came over with a question about a customer complaint. Zack went out to the floor to handle the customer, which was as simple as reassuring the elderly woman that her grilled whitefish was the correct fish. According to her it was “too white.” Hearing from the manager that yes, it was local whitefish—exactly what she’d ordered—delighted her.

After more than twenty years in the industry, the dumb things no longer aggravated him. It was almost adorable.

River Bistro II was in a renovated Victorian-style home, and it had three main dining rooms, each with a unique theme, with the kitchen in the back. Their offices were upstairs, as well as a studio apartment with a private entrance that Chase typically rented to staff. The Saloon Room, which housed the bar and had rustic wood features reminiscent of old-time saloons, was empty of diners, but as he passed on his way back to the kitchen, Zack spotted Chase seated alone at the bar with his tablet.

Even though Zack had been in town for several weeks now, it still hurt his heart when he looked at Chase. The last time they’d seen each other in person, almost twenty years ago, Chase had been fit, confident, intense in the kitchen, and even more intense in the bedroom. He took no shit from anyone, especially not from Zack, and he faced challenges head-on.

Seeing Chase hunched over a barstool, his cane leaning against the bar, exhaustion creasing his pale face, brown hair streaked with early gray, hurt Zack deep down where a part of him would always love this man. The same part that loathed knowing Chase only had a few good years left, if he was lucky.

Chase picked up his rocks glass with his new trademark seltzer and lime twist (in the old days, it would have had gin in it) with a shaking hand. He grunted, then used his left hand to steady his right and raise the drink. Take a sip. Put it down. Chase seemed to sense he was being watched, because his shoulders stiffened, and his head whipped to the side.

His irritation melted into a gentler frown. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Yes, it’s me.” Zack jacked his thumb over his shoulder. “Guest had a question about the fish she ordered.”

“I could have handled it.”

“It’s fine. Tickets are almost done, anyway, so I had a few minutes. I used to be front of house, remember? I know what I’m doing.”

“I know, I know.” A fond smile brightened Chase’s whole face. “With me busting my ass in the kitchen.”

“And me kissing ass in the dining room.” They’d been a fantastic team for a long time, but like anything too intense to last, they’d burned out. And gone their separate ways on very bad terms. So, Zack had been shocked when Chase called him in tears, begging for help after not speaking to each other for ages.

The man Zack rediscovered in Reynolds was completely different from the man he’d known in Wilmington. And also, somehow very much the same.

“We made a fantastic team then,” Chase said, “and we’re making a fantastic team again. For however long we can.”

Grief squeezed Zack’s throat, and he bit hard on the tip of his tongue to keep his emotions at bay. “That’s why I’m here. To keep River Bistro running on the days you can’t.”

Chase’s eyes watered, and he coughed. “Go finish your tickets. I’ll be here when it’s time to go home.”

“All right.”

Zack returned to the kitchen and was immediately annoyed at himself when he spotted Shelton back from his break. No chance to check on him tonight, and since he had no actual proof Shelton had pocketed the roll, Zack filed the incident away as something to investigate another night.

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