situation.
“Excuse me,” Chet said, in his loudest listen-up voice.
For a moment, the only sound was something boiling over, and the waitress’ shaky sob.
The cook turned with a wrathful look. “You got a problem?” he challenged. He sounded drunk.
“I now have several,” Chet growled. He threw the plates down on an empty space on the counter. “I am not feeding Magnolia that food. I am not standing by while you abuse your staff. And I am not letting you serve that food to anyone else.”
“Who the hell do you think you are?” the cook demanded.
“I am Chet.” Not Royal Guard Chet, not anymore, but it was a still a name that he could give with pride. It was the only name he had left.
“Well, Chef, do you think you could do better?”
“It’s…” Chet tried to correct his name.
“I can’t work under these conditions! Slovenly help! Substandard ingredients! Constantly being questioned! I’ll have you know I’ve worked in the finest kitchens in Europe!”
“As a dishwasher?” Breck muttered skeptically, earning himself the cook’s attention.
“And you, you pervert, with your disgusting simpering ways. It’s no wonder no one has an appetite for my food.”
“Enough!” Chet roared.
The cook turned several shades of red but was silent.
“I am here to see that my Magnolia gets a dinner worthy of her. If you can do that,” Chet’s voice betrayed his skepticism, “do so. If not, get out of my way.”
“That fat cow barely needs another meal,” the cook muttered.
“What did you say?” Chet asked between gritted teeth. One of his knives was rather suddenly at his fingertips.
The cook, abruptly aware of the danger he was in, looked around for support from his staff…and found none. Breck was actually grinning, and the crying waitress was all eyes and awe. The rest of the kitchen staff was gathered at the back of the kitchen.
“Nothing…” the cook decided to say wisely. Then he tore off his apron. “You know what, this job pays shit. I don’t need this kind of abuse. I could get better work than this, at a better place. You people don’t know talent when you see it.”
He stormed out the back entrance of the kitchen.
Chet took stock of the kitchen thoughtfully. “Do you cook?” he asked Breck.
“Not well,” Breck said honestly. “Though possibly better than he did.”
“Mind if I take over?”
“Can you feed a dozen hungry people from this?”
Chet gazed over the kitchen. “I can make something out of this,” he decided, opening the refrigerator. “But tell them they only have two choices, neither one of them on the menu. This chicken can’t be served like this. A stew would salvage it, but time is an issue. A chicken salad or a…hm…where are the spices? Yes, I could also do a quick curry with this pork. Rice? No, just toss that, it’s beyond saving, it’s best to start with new. Is there any bread fresher than this? Give me thirty minutes. You, can you clear this counter for me?”
They leapt to do as he bid, and Breck scurried out to let the diners know that there had been a change of power in the kitchen, take their new orders, and keep them plied with drinks.
Magnolia could hear the shouting from the kitchen and braced herself for the sound of a brawl.
It didn’t come, and after a few nervous glasses of wine, wondering if she should go in and see if her mate had gotten himself into trouble, she heard something that made her heart lift in her chest: Chet. He was singing.
Breck appeared at the side of her table.
“Ma’am, your gorgeous hunk of a man has coordinated a coup and is reorganizing our kitchen in order to provide you with your choice of chicken salad or a pork curry.”
“He’s not making a pest of himself, is he?” Magnolia said in astonishment.
“I can safely say that everyone is very glad to have him there,” Breck assured her.
“Well, his curry is not to be missed,” Magnolia said, settling herself back into her chair. “Give him my love and tell him to enjoy himself.”
“Make love to him, you say?” Breck teased.
Magnolia rapped his knuckles with her napkin-rolled utensils. “Hands off,” she scolded laughingly.
“Yes ma’am,” Breck laughed in return.
“Just Magnolia,” she corrected him. She was warming up to the name. It suited her, she thought.
The waiter winked at her as he went to refill water glasses and flirt his way indiscriminately across the restaurant.
Magnolia closed her eyes and gave a sigh of happiness.
Not only was she pleased to hear the