#Chapter 60: Harmony
I’m standing over a steaming pot of ragù, stirring as I listen to the sizzle and pop of ingredients melding

together in culinary harmony.

The kitchen is a whirlwind of activity, the dinner rush in full swing. But amidst the orchestrated chaos, a

discordant note strikes my ears. It’s John, my head chef, talking to another member of the kitchen staff.

“The guy just can’t get it together,” John grumbles. “It’s like he’s deficient or something. Honestly, why

Abby even hired him of all people is beyond me.”

I immediately recognize that he’s talking about Karl. I would normally be bothered by this sort of talk to

people’s faces, but today is Karl’s day off, which makes the conversation even more inappropriate.

And despite what I think about Karl, it’s not cool to be talking behind a coworker’s back. Especially not

in my kitchen, where I value respect.

“I swear,” John continues, oblivious to the fact that I can hear him, “he’s a downright jackass. And he

can’t follow directions to save his life. Hell, my kid was watching that one movie the other night, what’s

it called… Alice in Wonderland. He reminds me of Tweedledee. Now all we need is a Tweedledum.”

John bursts out into laughter, clearly amused by his own jokes. No one else laughs; maybe because

they’ve realized that I’m right here, listening to every word.

I’m well aware that Karl is still new to the restaurant business, still trying to acclimate to the hierarchy

and flow of the kitchen. But we all started somewhere, and the last thing he—or any of us—needs is a

colleague undermining him behind his back.

With a sigh, I delegate the sauce to someone else and wipe my hands on a kitchen towel.

“John, could you come into my office for a moment?”

His face pales a fraction, as if he knows he’s been caught. “Erm… Sure, Abby,” he responds, his voice

edged with trepidation.

Once we’re behind the closed door of my office, I sink into my chair. I watch John as he hesitates,

clearly uncomfortable, before taking the seat across from me.

the issue with Karl?” I cut straight to

hair. “Look, Abby, he makes a

he can get downright belligerent when

chest, feeling a mixture of frustration and disappointment. John

lived it. Karl is an Alpha, and there’s no doubt about it. But it

he should be badmouthed when he’s not even around

we opened,”

not here to defend themselves. That’s not how we

this establishment.”

seems to flinch at my words. “I understand that, Abby. It

reply, my voice firm. “I don’t want you making a bad impression on the

restaurants where it’s

everyone else.

nods solemnly. “I get it, Abby. I do. I’ll make sure

about Karl. He’s not

already wondering how to broach the subject

shaky ground. “We’ll sort out any issues you

his voice tinged with

you can go,” I say, gesturing to the door. He nods, stands up,

alone with my thoughts.

mind racing. The atmosphere in

a finely tuned instrument.

the dishwasher to the head

entire composition, and right now, we’re

dissonance.

appreciate the

arts, and struggling to fit into our tightly knit team.

learn, two qualities that can’t always be

the desk, a heavy sigh escaping my lips. The

Deciding I need a break from this contained

walk out into

dishes serves as a momentary distraction from my

my way through the maze of tables and servers, I find Ethan

to be

effortless.

Ethan, got a minute?” I ask, forcing

What’s up?” he replies,

if I help with the silverware?” I say, gesturing toward the pile of spoons, knives,

the end of the

guest,” he replies, sliding over a bunch of cloth napkins for me to

but feel a bit more

action, a contrast to

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