Page 38 of A Perfect Match
I give Jackie and Tina the signal to open the door and I slip into the kitchen.Even from back here I can feel the hum of energy crackling through the dining room as customers wait in line.Brady and I handle the food, and orders begin pouring in.My focus narrows in on the slips of paper pumping out of the kitchen printer.
Tacos.Tacos.Tacos.Lobster.
Brady responds well to my gruff instructions as I help navigate us through a bona fide lunch rush.I make sure we stay ahead of the curve while we pump out orders, sliding them into boxes with their names scribbled on top in Sharpie.Brady stays with me, though we occasionally need to rope in Jackie or Tina to help run supplies so we can focus on the line.I’m distantly aware that Pat and the cameras are lurking somewhere in the vicinity, though I couldn’t even say if they’re in the kitchen with me.
I wish I could see what’s happening out front.Pat will catch me up later.All I know is that this launch is far from soft.The tickets don’t stop, and it’s about an hour into the lunch rush when I realize it’s happening.We’re doing it.I grin through my order assembly, imagining all the rave reviews that are about to begin pouring in.
Fuck yeah, hard-ass soft launch.
“Kru.”
Piper’s voice cuts through my focus like a paring knife.The confusion of why I’m hearing her voice in my kitchen during the lunch rush causes me to abandon my order and swivel.
She’s a vision in pastel—pink shirt covered by a frilly, daffodil-colored apron—arms crossed and eyes ablaze.I recognize the spark in her gaze immediately.
But I don’t have time for this shit.
“What’s wrong?”I wipe my forearm across my cheek, watching her expectantly.
“My entrance is completely blocked.Again.”
I sigh, shaking my head.I turn back to my station, trying to focus again on the ticket I was prepping.“We’re takeout only today.We had a wrench thrown into our soft launch.Nobody’s allowed inside per the health department.”
There’s an unnerving silence behind me.Then she’s at my side, looking up at me.
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Piper, I’m not in a joking mood right now.”I gesture to the tickets pumping out of the kitchen printer.“Now is there something I can help you with or are you just here to give me shit on my soft launch?”
“You didn’t tell me you were soft launching today,” she hisses.
“You didn’t give me a chance to, you never showed up the last two nights,” I remind her.
She recoils slightly.“How long is this going on?”
“Till we sell out.Or till you call the fire marshal.”
She doesn’t laugh.I didn’t expect her to.Not when she’s in Put-Out Piper mode.
Her eyes flick back to me, and something in her expression shifts.It’s not just frustration anymore.There’s heat.Tension.Maybe even hurt.And suddenly I realize what this is really about.
“I’m not trying to sabotage your shop,” I say firmly.“I didn’t expect this crowd.Now I’m doing everything I can to stay out of the weeds back here on opening day.I need to focus on the food.That’s what this is about for me, Piper.I don’t know what to do with the line.Go tell them to fuck themselves.I don’t know.I can’t set foot outside of this kitchen until that line is gone.”
Before she can respond, Brady rushes up.“Uh, chef?We’re out of aioli.”
“Fuck.We already plowed through the reserves in the walk-in?”I ask.
“All gone.I thought there was another jar back there but I made a mistake.”
Brady looks nervous.The tickets are twenty deep and I know the stress he’s feeling at being new in a high-tension kitchen with an unexpected crowd beating down the doors.
“You handle these orders, and I’ll go prep more.”
“Wait,” Piper blurts.“Let me help.My employee is here for the morning so I can do something if you need me to.”
I could kiss her.And I would if I wasn’t stress-focused on aioli.
“Go into the walk-in and get six bunches of cilantro.Take them to the prep table over there and start chopping, leaving out the stems.It’s already rinsed.”
