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…

for something

um, I just wanted to say, Anton’s pretty

where Anton is in full chef-mode, effortlessly instructing John

clean-shaven man in crisp chef whites, as

restaurant was

he is. How’s he fitting in with

grins. “I know it’s only been a few days, but

too. I’m glad that he’s a

fantastic to hear, Daisy. I’m

out of the stockroom, his arms laden

and Anton were like

surprised that Karl was even willing to entertain the idea of letting Anton work

to pay for Anton’s lodging. But these

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

a quizzical look on his

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