Page 4 of Talk Turkey To Me
Lily spun on him again, bright eyes narrowing, “How long have you been working here?”
“Uh…” He hesitated, happy she’d forgotten her own rule that she wasn’t going to talk to him but unable to give her a coherent answer either.
“I’m assuming you didn’t start as the head chef considering when I left town you couldn’t make a grilled cheese without burning it.”
“Hey.” He grunted. “I never burnedyourgrilled cheese. Only mine. I like it that way.”
“Yes, because clearly that’s the sign of a spectacular palate.” She turned back to her father. “Please tell me this is a very elaborate joke and someone is about to pop up and tell me this was all for the cameras.”
“Lily, sit back down so we can discuss this.” Her father sighed and since the older man had done so much for him, and Myles felt indebted to him for the chance he’d taken giving him a job, he couldn’t bite his tongue and let the guy take the full brunt of Lily’s anger alone.
“I started as a busboy and then moved up to a server. I started helping in the kitchen about eighteen months before Dave retired. I was only promoted to head chef four months ago when your father decided to take a step back from the daily duties.”
“Four months.” Lily stared at him for a long time and he could literally see the moment the fight went out of her, the understanding that this was real, that he’d hurt her, again, and this time he’d colluded with her parents to do it. His chest ached when she pulled her gaze away and turned back to her father, her voice soft with resignation, “Four months? Really?”
Her father sighed again before moving his gaze over her shoulder to where Myles stood, “I’m sure you’re needed in the kitchen. Head on back.”
“You sure?”
“Nobody wants you here.” Lily snapped though there wasn’t nearly enough bite in it for it to hurt the way she intended.
“Go on.” Her father nodded.
“Okay. I have plenty to do with preparations for the Turkey Trotters Feast of Champions and the door to door deliveries but if you need me...”
Lily gaped at him, “You’re in charge of the two biggest events the restaurant hosts?”
“That’s kind of what head chef means.” He shrugged before turning to head back into the kitchen.
Myles could feel the heat of her angry gaze on his back as he headed for the swinging doors down the side hallway. Good. He would take her anger over her resignation any day. He knew how to handle her anger, was familiar with it. What he didn’t like was seeing the way the sparkle in her dimmed and knowing he’d been the cause of it. Again.
He’d hurt her once before, disappointed her, let her down, and she’d walked away from him and then stayed away for years. Even when she’d visited from college, she’d actively avoided him. He’d only gotten a glimpse of her a handful of times, always from afar, and he’d let her keep her distance because he knew he owed her that much.
But his position at The Mont changed things and while he’d known that she wouldn’t be happy to hear he was running the kitchen he had always imagined it would ultimately be the thing that brought them back together. Instead, she’d looked as if she was ready to walk out of the restaurant and leave town for another seven years. That thought unsettled him in ways he hadn’t prepared himself for when Alan had come in earlier and said Lily was on her way home and to start preparing all her favorite dishes.
“Hey, you okay boss?”
Myles blinked and realized he had stopped walking, standing next to that old photo of Lily dressed up for career day. Diego, one of the young busboys, was staring at him as if he’d asked him the question more than once. Myles realized he was taking up the walkway and his apron was covered in remnants of the spilled lemon tarts.
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat and tried to sound like he wasn’t spiraling over a girl, “I dropped a dessert tray. Can you…”
“That’s where I was headed.” Diego nodded to the cleaning bucket he was pushing and Myles felt even stupider than he already did because he hadn’t noticed it.
“Thanks.” He stepped aside and let the kid pass before physically giving himself a good shake and muttering under his breath, “Get it together, Calhoun.”
He pushed through the swinging doors into his kitchen and wasn’t surprised in the least to see half his team standing around in small groups gossiping, probably about him and that scene in the front. Kim, one of the older women who had been employed at The Mont for as long as he could remember, stepped away from her spot and offered him a rag. The look of pity on her face said it all so she didn’t even have to utter a word as she turned to go back to work.
“Didn’t go how you thought it was going to, did it?”
Myles turned and flipped off the man who had spoken. Jay was a few years older than Myles but since it was a small town they’d known of one another all their lives. They’d never run in the same circles until Jay started working at The Mont but they’d become fast friends. Jay was probably his closest friend actually, if he didn’t count Dave and since the old man had retired and moved to be closer to his grandkids he didn’t check on Myles as often as he used to. So it wasn’t a surprise to Myles that it was his friend who spoke up to give him a hard time now consideringten minutes ago Jay had told him it was a bad idea to take the dessert plate out there himself.
“Told you.” Jay only shook his head as Myles focused on wiping his apron off with the rag Kim had given him.
“You couldn’t have known she’d jump up from the table and run into me so don’t even.” He grumbled.
“You’re right. I had my money on her throwing the plate at your head but…” Jay grinned when Myles glared at him. “It wasn’t going to go well either way, that’s all I’m saying.”
“No. Please. Continue to tell me how dumb I am. It’s really useful coming from my perpetually single best friend.”
