Abby

It’s been a few days since Anton first stepped into my restaurant, and already Anton is fitting in perfectly

with the team.

That morning when I walked into the restaurant, not knowing whether I had been taken for a fool or not,

now seems so distant. Anton and John are running like a well-oiled machine, and the customers have

never been happier. I’ve decided that today, at the end of the day, I’m going to offer Anton a full-time

position here.

“Abby, table six wants to know if we can make the duck confit gluten-free?” Daisy asks me.

“We can do that. Just make sure to mention it might take a bit longer,” I reply, jotting down an order for the

kitchen staff.

Enter title…

sense she’s gearing up for something more than a

um, I just wanted to say,

where Anton is in full chef-mode, effortlessly instructing John on how to sear

clean-shaven man in crisp chef whites, as

into my restaurant was a

“Yeah, he is. How’s

a few days, but we all really like him.

he’s a part of our little

“That’s fantastic to hear, Daisy. I’m really glad you feel that

his arms laden with

Karl and Anton were like oil and

entertain the idea of letting Anton work here,

But these past few

you put those down for a sec?” I catch his eye, and he obliges, dropping

with a quizzical

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