#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
running his fingers through his hair. “Look, Abby, he makes
downright belligerent when
chest, feeling a mixture of
I’ve lived it. Karl is an Alpha, and there’s no doubt about it. But it doesn’t
he’s not even around to
you’ve been with this restaurant since we opened,” I say gently. “You
not here to defend themselves. That’s not how we
this establishment.”
flinch at my words. “I
reply, my voice firm. “I don’t want you making a bad impression on the
of those restaurants where it’s a
everyone else. Got
I do. I’ll make sure
do something about Karl. He’s not exactly
sigh, already wondering how
shaky ground. “We’ll sort out any issues you have with Karl when he’s
his voice tinged
say, gesturing to the door. He
alone with my thoughts.
my mind racing. The atmosphere in the restaurant,
a finely tuned instrument.
head chef, plays an
composition, and right now, we’re on the cusp of
dissonance.
if I don’t appreciate the way he’s
fit into our tightly knit team.
willing to learn, two qualities that can’t always
push away from the desk, a heavy sigh escaping
thick with unresolved tension. Deciding I
up and walk out into
lively hum of chatter and clinking dishes serves as a momentary distraction from my
tables and
he seems to be in his element, his movements
effortless.
Ethan, got a minute?”
lady. What’s up?” he replies, looking up and
say, gesturing toward
end
guest,” he replies, sliding over a bunch of cloth
silverware, I can’t help but feel a bit
the simple, repetitive action, a contrast to the complicated people issues
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