#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 the chase, my eyes

sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “Look, Abby, he makes a lot of mistakes. He’s

get downright belligerent when

chest, feeling a mixture of frustration and disappointment. John isn’t

Hell, I’ve lived it. Karl is an Alpha,

he should be badmouthed when he’s not even around

with this restaurant since we opened,”

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

this establishment.”

“I understand that, Abby.

my voice firm. “I don’t want you making a

where it’s a free-for-all. Everyone

everyone else.

do. I’ll make sure

something about Karl. He’s

already wondering how to broach the subject

issues you have with Karl when he’s

replies, his

the door. He nods,

alone with my thoughts.

lean back in my chair, my mind racing. The atmosphere in the restaurant, especially

a finely tuned instrument.

dishwasher to the head chef, plays

entire composition, and right now, we’re on the cusp of

dissonance.

if I don’t appreciate the

fit into our tightly

to learn, two qualities

from the desk, a heavy sigh escaping my

air thick with unresolved tension. Deciding I need a

and walk out into the

of chatter and clinking dishes serves as a momentary distraction from my

Navigating my way through the maze of tables and servers,

seems to be in

effortless.

Ethan, got a minute?” I ask, forcing

up?” he replies,

gesturing toward the pile

on the end of the

over a bunch

help but feel a bit more grounded.

action, a contrast to the complicated people issues

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