Page 3 of Heart Stopping
HARLOW
"That's the last one, chef," Gina called out.
I glanced back over my shoulder and gave her a curt nod. Pushing damp, red hair off my face, I finished stirring the Bolognese sauce and set the lid on top. One of our most popular dishes, I was always making tonight's batch while finishing off the lunch rush. Now, it would sit and simmer for a few hours to increase the depth of flavor.
"That was brutal." My kitchen hand, Erin, bustled around grabbing up empty pots and spoons to wash them.
"Wouldn't have it any other way, would we?" I washed my hands and dried them before shrugging out of my chef jacket.
She grinned. "Nah, keeps things interesting." She dumped everything into the sink and started to scrub.
She'd been with me for a year now and knew what I expected. Spotless everything. Above and beyond Health Department guidelines. Angel's Rest had been in immaculate shape since I opened it two years ago. No one was going to shut us down. We weren't going to end up on an episode of some show with Gordon Ramsay telling us to pick up our game. No, if he ate here, he'd be singing our praises.
"Yeah, it does," I agreed. I hung my jacket on a hook and stepped out of the kitchen to greet any diners who remained.
A couple sat at the table beside the window, finishing off their chicken Caesar salads. Every so often, he'd say something and she'd laugh. She might not laugh so hard if she knew he was here last week with his wife. And the week before that with a different woman. Which, of course, was none of my business. As long as none of them was underage, I'd turn a blind eye.
If they were underage, he'd be dealt with.
A guy sat alone at another table, dark hair hanging over his glasses. He absently shoved it off his face. Immediately, it fell right back down. He didn't seem to notice. His attention was on the tablet in front of him, occasionally picking up his milkshake to take a sip.
Heavy on the chocolate, they were another favorite with customers.
Placing the straw between his lips, he went to suck, the glass was empty. He stared at it like emptied itself, before putting it back on the table and pushing his hair back again.
I made my way over to pick up the glass, since Gina was busy clearing another table. As soon as I got close enough, he turned off the screen and looked up at me. Not like he had something to hide, but rather that he was giving me all his attention.
"Hey." He pushed his glasses back up his nose.
"Hey," I said with equal eloquence. He was cute, in a nerdy sort of way. Like a hot computer programmer. One who probably lived in his parents' basement, only leaving once in a while to have a milkshake.
"You're the chef here, right?" he asked.
"Chef and owner," I confirmed.
"You make a good milkshake," he said. "I'm Cassius." Looking chagrined he added, "Titmus." He held out his hand.
I looked at it for a moment before offering a fist bump instead of a shake. If there was something I hated, it was shaking hands with people.
He rallied quickly, curling his hand into a fist to bump before dropping it back to the table. "Sorry, social norms are not my strong point." As if the fadedX-FilesT-shirt wasn't a clear indication of that.
I shrugged one shoulder. "Mine either. Food makes more sense to me than people."
He grinned, showing a couple of slightly crooked teeth, but a warm smile. "Relatable. People never make sense to me." For a moment, his expression darkened, but lifted again like a stiff breeze blew a cloud away from in front of the sun. "Milkshakes are easier."
"Milkshakes don't tend to have expectations," I agreed. "They just…are."
"Especially yours," he said. "Secret ingredient?"
"Of course, but it's calledsecretfor a reason." I was starting to wonder if he was a journalist, or worked for a rival restaurant. If that was the case, he was out of luck. He wouldn't get any secrets from me.
"As long as it's not made with any human bodily fluids," he said.
"No, that's the salted caramel," I deadpanned. "The salt has to come from somewhere." I flashed him a smile before heading to the kitchen to hand the empty glass to Erin.
"What did you say to him?" She was peering out of the kitchen in Cassius' direction. "I can't tell if he's turned on or scared out of his wits. I wouldn't rule out both."
I glanced over my shoulder. Sure enough, he was staring at me, his plush lips parted. His hair fell all the way over one lens, but he didn't seem to have noticed.
