hovered just shy of a brand-new nap.
“Well, we lost the game, and I’m crushing on the other team’s third basewoman.” He blinked. “She’s also my client. Kind of. You made out with her once or twice.” He lifted a paw. “No, no, no. Don’t be jealous. She might like you more than me.” He settled back in and sighed.
She sighed, too. “You and me both, buddy. This stuff is harder than it looks.”
* * *
It was Tuesday morning, and Jolene was hopping. Gabriella swayed her hips to Demi Lovato, her fake best friend who often kept her company when she worked. Currently, that meant plating a goat cheese torta with crispy shallots for a couple visiting the vineyard from Idaho. She hoped they liked Demi. The head-bopping wife seemed to confirm it.
She handed the small plate to Mr. Idaho and smiled. “Please let me know what you think when you’re done. We have a restaurant going in right over there,” she said, gesturing to the future site of Tangled, “and this guy just might make it onto the menu if enough people like it. Oh, and it pairs well with the chardonnay in your hand.”
“Well, it looks simply beautiful,” Mrs. Idaho said, raising her wineglass in thanks. “I’m going to put it on Instagram right now. I’m a new Insta addict. I’ve got all the filters. Woohoo!”
“Tag us!” Gabriella said as the couple headed to a picnic table to dive in.
“You bet I will,” Mrs. Idaho said and gave her hips a shake as she walked. Yeah, she’d had a couple of glasses. More power to Mrs. Idaho on her vacation.
Gabriella tossed a towel on her shoulder. The lunch rush had been more than decent, and she’d finally hit a lull and could breathe. She was taking a few moments to straighten her workstation and reset when the next customer arrived. “What can I get for you?” she asked while giving her counter a quick wipe. She looked up, and everything slowed down. “Well, well. Ryan Jacks, as I live and breathe.” She made a playful show of fanning herself.
The dreamy smile appeared. “It smells amazing in there.”
“Doesn’t it? My life’s work.”
“You need some sort of medal.”
“I never turn away jewelry.” She laughed. “And what can I do for you? A consult? Tell me you didn’t completely redesign my restaurant on a whim. Are we about to have another fight?”
“Let’s save it for later.”
“Deal.”
“I’m actually here for lunch if that’s okay. I usually bring my own, but after several days of downright jealousy watching the tourists eat your food, I thought I’d give it a try.”
She took out a twenty and surveyed the menu, which was written in Gabriella’s own handwriting on a chalkboard out front. Her selections changed daily, and the flexibility kept Gabriella excited for each new day. She planned on the restaurant having a similar fluidity. Staples on the menu, but floating specials.
“Put that away,” she told Ryan. “I’ll make you up a sampler plate. I can’t have the person who’s transforming my dream space light on blood sugar.”
“Okay, but let me pay,” Ryan said. Her dark hair was down today, which was new at work. The only time she’d seen it down was at the Scoot when the temperature in the room went up three degrees the second Gabriella noticed her at the bar. It was a good look and allowed her to see the slight waves in Ryan’s hair that she imagined were natural. The gentle curl complemented Ryan’s skin perfectly.
“Your money is no good as long as my restaurant is in your hands.” She went to work on Ryan’s plate. The torta, a couple bites of toasted ravioli, a side of the pickled vegetables, an arancini ball filled with her famous white wine risotto, and an eggplant caponata. Everything she was serving today. “There.”
Ryan stared at the plate. “It think it’s too pretty for me to eat.”
“Is not. Dig in. Food is meant to be enjoyed, savored. That’s an order from the head chef of this amazing blue truck.”
Ryan looked around and leaned in. “Are there other chefs in your blue truck? How do you know when to boss them around if they’re imaginary?”
“Shut up,” Gabriella said and pointed with her spatula. “You can’t question blue truck logic.” She relaxed and gave in to the logic. “Sometimes there’s an intern about, just not today.”
Ryan nodded, her eyes dancing. “I like the coat.” She gestured with her chin to Gabriella’s white chef’s coat, which looked