Chapter Four

Peaches watched her assistant, Alicia, chop onions and tried not to be annoyed. Alicia was a culinary school graduate, a fact she managed to work into most conversations. She prided herself on her knife skills, which Peaches had to admit were impressive. However, at the moment, she was supposed to be getting the soup on the stove rather than piling tasteful little heaps of veggies as the mise en place arranged at her station.

Alicia pushed her gold bracelet up her wrist. The bracelet was a present from her doting father after her culinary school graduation, or so she’d told Peaches. Apparently some television chef wore a gold bracelet during her meal prep. Alicia said it made her hands look graceful. Peaches thought that was a truly crappy justification for wearing jewelry in the kitchen.

Alicia looked a little like a TV chef herself. Her brown hair fell straight to her shoulders, and she pulled it back with a tortoise-shell barrette. Her chef’s beanie and coat were immaculate, and she wore gold studs in her ears. And, unlike Peaches, she was tall and slender rather than short and curvy.

None of that mattered to Peaches.

She herself had learned her cooking skills in restaurant kitchens. She didn’t use terms like mise en place. In fact, she didn’t use terms like station at the Salty Goat. Given that there were only two of them and they both moved all around the kitchen, nobody had their own station to claim. And the only jewelry Peaches wore were her silver hoop earrings—which she’d bought herself after a particularly annoying shouting match with a previous boss.

“Vegetable soup ready?” she asked, trying to keep her tone pleasant.

“Just about.” Alicia gave her a thin smile. “I don’t like putting in the vegetables too soon. It destroys the texture.”

Peaches was pretty sure the customers at the Salty Goat were less interested in texture than in getting their soup on time. “Twenty minutes until we open,” she said tartly. “We need the soup ready.”

She turned back to her own prep, checking to make sure they had adequate goat cheese on hand, along with burger patties, sliced tomatoes, and lettuce. The special sandwich was a goat cheese patty melt, which included caramelized onions. She’d cooked up ample amounts yesterday, but now she wondered if it would be enough. She could always cook up a few more. Caramelized onions could be frozen and then used later. She grabbed her knife and started slicing. Her knife skills weren’t as flashy as Alicia’s—she couldn’t produce a quarter-inch dice on an onion in thirty seconds—but she got the job done.

“I’ve been thinking about your main dish idea,” Alicia said from across the kitchen. “How about omelets? People like them, and we could use a lot of different fillings.”

“It’s a possibility.” Peaches dumped the sliced onions into the pan with melted butter. Actually, omelets weren’t much of a possibility, since they’d require a lot of attention from the cook, and both she and Alicia had to multi-task.

“And there’s pasta,” Alicia went on. “That’s always popular. Lasagna, mac and cheese, Bolognese sauce.”

She pronounced the last one with a careful accent. Peaches gritted her teeth then told herself to settle down. Alicia was young and self-important. She’d calm down once she had a few years in the kitchen. “Pasta is good,” Peaches said evenly. “I’d already thought of lasagna. We’ll work on it.” Right then, of course, they needed to work on lunch.

Blanca, who doubled as waitress and hostess, stuck her head in the door. “Everybody ready? We’ve already got people waiting outside.”

Peaches checked around the kitchen. Salads in their bowls in the cooler, sandwich meats sliced and ready in their bins, loaves of Angel Parsons’s bread stacked above the board. And Alicia emptying a couple of bowls of vegetables into the stock pot, gold bracelet shimmering.

Peaches stifled her exclamations of annoyance. At least the vegetable soup was on. And maybe nobody would order any for a while. “We’re good,” she told Blanca. “Let them in.”

The first hour of lunch service was always the toughest. The Salty Goat only had ten tables, and they turned over fast until twelve thirty or so. The patty melts were a hit, and Peaches was glad she’d done more caramelized onions. The vegetable soup was…okay. Peaches promised herself she’d check with Tug, the busboy and dishwasher, to find out how much had been dumped into the garbage from half-eaten bowls.

After one thirty, the rush always died down. Peaches decided to take a break and let Alicia fend for herself for a while. She pulled off her chef’s beanie but left her canvas apron in place. It was pointless to remove it when she’d have to start the afternoon baking in only a half hour or so.

The first person she saw after stepping through the kitchen door was Colin Brooks.

She gave him a smile that was purposely a bit cooler than the ones she’d given him at breakfast. She knew a lot more about him now and didn’t want to encourage him. “Hello again.”

He gave her a much warmer smile of his own. “Can you join me for a cup of coffee?”

“Not really. I just have a minute before I have to get started on the desserts for the evening customers.” That was true enough, but it sounded a little more brusque than she’d meant. “How’d your meeting go?”

“Okay,” he said, his smile dimming at the change in topic. “I’m going to be doing some work at Antero Brewing.”

“The Dempseys are letting you work with them?” That didn’t sound like the situation Ruth had described earlier. She’d half expected them to put a bounty on his head.

“Sort of. I’m in a separate building, but the beer I make will be part of Antero’s production.”

So Colin Brooks was back on board again. That was certainly unexpected. And sort of intriguing. She moved a little farther into the dining room, pulling out a chair at the nearest table. “What kind of beer are you going to do?”

“I’ve got ideas to try once I get some time to work.” He took the chair opposite her. “For now, I need to find a part-time job so I can afford to spend time at the brewery and still feed myself. I won’t be getting paid for the beer I make. I’ll have to wait for the profits to come in, then we split it.”

She nodded. “Liam and Bec both had second jobs for a while. I guess that’s what you do when your business is just getting started.” Although she’d thought he had money—wasn’t that what Ruth had said?

“Yeah. I was interested in your ‘Help Wanted’ sign.” He gestured toward the window. “For the janitor’s position, right? What are the job requirements?”

“It’s just cleaning work. We need somebody to sweep up and take care of the kitchen. Our last janitor took off a couple of weeks ago, and it’s getting to be too much for the kitchen crew on top of everything else we do. The job is part-time, in the evening, after the place closes.”

He gave her a tentative smile. “That sounds good to me. I’d have time to work on the beer during the day. That is, I think I would. What kind of hours are involved?”

Peaches tried to hide her doubt. Colin didn’t strike her as the janitor type. And it seemed a little sketchy that he needed a job at all. “Like I said, I need somebody to clean up around here after closing—the dining room and bathrooms and the kitchen. Shouldn’t take more than two or three hours each night. Ruth cleans up the cheese room herself. It’s strictly minimum wage, but we can feed you. Sandwiches and soup and leftover pastries. Anything there isn’t enough of to save. Are you still interested?”

He nodded again, more forcefully. “Definitely. When would I start?”

“Now. I mean today. Well, this evening, say around six. Can you do that?”

He grinned. “I can do that.”

Peaches paused. Might as well be up front about things. “I talked to Ruth,” she started slowly, choosing her words carefully. “She told me a little about your problems the last time you were in Antero.”

“Oh.” Colin’s grin wilted. “And?”

“The thing is…a lot of people I know are mixed up in this whole thing—Liam, Bec, Wyatt, and maybe Ruth. I don’t want to cause problems for anybody if you come to work here.”

He let out a long sigh, but he still seemed tense. “I made a big mistake when I was here before. I know I did. I’ve explained to the Dempseys, and I’ve apologized, but I’m not sure what more I can do besides keep my head down and try not to make things tough for other people. That’s what I’m working on now. But if my being here makes you uncomfortable, I can look for work somewhere else.”

Did she want that? He might be able to find a job somewhere else, but it also might take him a while. And he and his puppy might need money to eat. Maybe he wasn’t rich. Probably he wasn’t if he was this enthusiastic about a janitorial job.

He needed help—help that she could provide. Suddenly, she didn’t want to say no.

Peaches made herself smile again. “That’s okay. I’m fine with you working here. The job here is yours if you want it.”

“Thank you,” he said, and his whole body seemed to relax, his smile bigger than before. “Is there a time clock I need to punch?”

She shook her head. “Just fill out a time sheet and turn it in at the end of the week. You’ll be paid weekly. You’ll need to fill out a couple of tax forms, too, but I’ll have to get those from Ruth. You can do that tomorrow.”

He pushed himself to his feet. “Okay, sounds good. I’ll be back at six.”

“Right. I’ll be here. I’ll let you in and show you where everything is.” She took a quick breath. “Welcome to the family, such as it is.”

“Thanks again.” He shook her hand, his skin cool against her kitchen-warmed palm, then leaned down beside his table. For the first time, she noticed his dog tucked under the table. He pulled her out again, pushed the sleepy pup to its feet, and flashed another quick smile at Peaches before they headed back out into the cold.

Here’s hoping I didn’t just make a huge mistake.

The kitchen door swung open behind her, and Alicia leaned out. “Would you like me to get started on the baking? I can do the pâte `a choux for the éclairs.”

Peaches managed not to sigh in frustration. “That’s okay. I’ve got enough pastry cream in the cooler. You can work on getting the muffin dough ready for tomorrow.”

Alicia’s eyebrows elevated for just a moment to let Peaches know her opinion of saying pastry cream instead of pâte `a choux, but then she shrugged. “Okay.”

Peaches watched her disappear back into the kitchen before grabbing her chef’s beanie from the counter and heading back to work.

Oh yeah, you’ve done so well in hiring staff so far. Absolutely nothing to worry about.

…

Ruth swung into the kitchen around five thirty. “Alicia left all of this for you to take care of?”

The girl had already taken off for the day with Peaches’s blessing. “There’s not much left to do,” she assured Ruth. “I’ll get the coffee cakes into the refrigerator, and then I’m done.”

Ruth’s forehead stayed furrowed. “But what about the cleaning?”

“No problem.” Peaches flashed an artificially bright smile. “I meant to tell you—I hired a janitor this afternoon.”

“Really? I thought it would take longer to find someone. Is he experienced?”

Most probably not. “It’s Colin Brooks.” Peaches steeled herself for Ruth’s reaction.

Ruth stared at her, one eyebrow arching. “Colin? He convinced you he could do it? He’s not the most reliable person, you know.”

Peaches hoped she looked more calm than she actually felt. “I’ll give him a couple of weeks to prove himself, just like anyone else I hired. If he doesn’t work out, I’ll let him go.” Although she really wanted it to work out. She’d never had to fire anyone before and hoped she never would. Giving people bad news made her stomach ache. She’d just as soon avoid it if she could.

“Okay.” Ruth still didn’t look convinced. “If you believe he’s serious about the job.”

“I don’t have any reason not to think so.”

Ruth’s grin was dry. “Carefully said. I just hope you’re right.”

Me, too.

Peaches finished up the coffee cakes after Ruth left. She considered herself a cheerful person, but that seemed to convince some people she was also simpleminded or, at the very least, naive. She’d worked in professional kitchens all over the country, and that was one surefire way to lose any naïveté overnight, since chefs didn’t put up with much innocence. The learning curve had to be mastered pretty much instantly. She didn’t have many illusions left about human nature, but she was still an optimist. Maybe Colin Brooks deserved a chance.

She knew why Ruth felt the need to warn her, though. Jerry Cox. Former boyfriend and first-class louse. Someone she’d given way too many chances to. She wasn’t going to make a mistake like that again, thank you very much.

Peaches was just putting away the last few slices of cheesecake in the walk-in when someone knocked on the front door. She looked outside to see Colin standing underneath a streetlight, the collar of his jacket turned up to his ears. His speckled hound leaned against his legs, probably trying to shelter itself from the wind. Peaches narrowed her eyes. She’d forgotten about the dog, but she couldn’t turn them away now.

She opened the door quickly and motioned them in. “Come inside. It’s going down to the teens tonight.”

Colin gave her a quick smile, pulling the leash so the dog would move. “Come on, Wiseass. You know you don’t want to stay out here.”

Peaches stepped back, frowning. “I didn’t know you were going to bring your dog with you. It’s not really a great idea to have her here while you work.”

“She’s no trouble. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“You can’t really, though. Not while you’re working. Where are you staying?” Surely he could leave the dog at his apartment. Maybe somebody there could take care of her. She so didn’t want to get into this herself.

He stiffened slightly. “At the brewery. I’ve got room in the building where I’m brewing.”

Worse and worse. “You can’t really leave her there, either, I guess. Unless you’ve got her crate trained.”

Colin stared at her blankly. “Crate trained?”

Peaches stared back. “Why do I have the feeling you don’t know much about dogs?”

“Because I don’t.” He dropped the leash, leaning down to rub a hand across the dog’s head as she tried to lick his face. “I’ve never had one before. Wiseass was my uncle’s dog before he died. My half brother wanted to send her to a shelter, but I wouldn’t let him.” He looked up at her again, his eyes dark blue in the dim light of the deli. “She’s my dog now, so I’m trying to give her what she needs.”

Well, crap. Telling him to get the dog out of the café was a non-starter. He had no place else to leave her. Clearly, it was time for an intervention. “Okay, here’s the thing. You can’t have her here, and you can’t leave her in a room where you’re brewing, and she obviously can’t wait outside. Let me take her home with me tonight.”

“You could do that?”

She nodded. It wasn’t a big deal. Honestly, it wasn’t. Keep telling yourself that, Peaches.

He blew out a long breath. “I really appreciate it, thank you. I brought her stuff with me so she’d have a place to sleep.” He gestured near the door, and she saw a bag of dry dog food and a bowl.

“Good, that’ll make it easier for her to feel at home with me.”

“Where do you live,” he asked, “so I can come get her when I finish?”

No way was she staying up for him to pick up his dog. Who knew how long it would take him to clean the place his first time? “I’ll keep her overnight and bring her back to you tomorrow. You’re not familiar with things here, so the first night of cleaning may take you longer than you think.”

He sighed, looking around the dining room. “Yeah, I’ll have to get my routine going. Where are the cleaning supplies?”

“In here.” She led him into the kitchen, keeping Wiseass under strict control at her side. “That utility closet there should have everything you need.”

“Great. What about the time sheet I’m supposed to fill out?”

“There’s a desk in the corner of the dining room with all the forms. It’s behind the deli counter. The time sheet should be on top.”

“Okay.” He managed a thin smile. “I’d better get on this.”

“If you get hungry, the end of the soup is in the refrigerator—you can warm it in the microwave. And you can make yourself a sandwich. Or you can take stuff home with you.” Assuming he had space where he could eat. “Does the place where you’re brewing have room for furniture?”

“Some. I picked up a cot and a couple of camp chairs this afternoon. And I’ve got a sleeping bag.”

“And you’re going to live there like that?” Somehow she’d assumed he’d be looking for a better place to stay tomorrow morning.

He nodded. “I’ve got some things I need to get done—car repairs at the top of the list. Once that’s taken care of, I’ll look for a more comfortable place that allows dogs.”

Peaches was still frowning. This struck her as a very guy thing to do—live in the shed where you’re working. Even if it’s not set up for living.

On the one hand, she knew only too well how hard it could be to convince a guy of anything, particularly when he’d made up his mind the wrong thing was a good idea. On the other hand, somebody needed to point out the obvious. It might as well be her, given that she was already knee deep in this situation.

“That won’t be a great place for Wiseass to live. She’s likely to get into your beer stuff when you’re not around. You really can’t leave her there while you’re gone or you may have a disaster on your hands.”

Colin’s jaw firmed, and his expression turned slightly mulish.

Guy. Definitely a guy.

“I’ll work it out,” he said. “I don’t have enough money to board her until I find a better place to live. Maybe I can just take her with me when I come here to clean. Maybe she could stay in the storage closet.”

Oh, for heaven’s sake. That was a loser of an idea. He didn’t seem to have thought this through very well, but Peaches was willing to believe his heart was in the right place, at least where his dog was concerned. He didn’t want to leave her behind.

She glanced down at the dog’s big brown eyes. Puppy eyes if she’d ever seen them. Clearly, somebody needed to step in—for Wiseass’s sake if not for Colin’s. Taking on somebody else’s problems again, Peaches? Maybe. It seemed to be in her DNA.

“Okay, let me keep Wiseass for now. Until you can find a better place to live. By then, I might have her crate trained so you can leave her while you’re working or maybe keep her out of the way. But finding a better place should be at the top of your list, above getting your car fixed.”

Colin stared at her blankly. For a moment, she was afraid he’d turn her down just to prove he was self-sufficient. Then he sighed. “Okay. I can do that. She’s a nice dog, a little shy but really…nice.”

He looked so vulnerable all of a sudden that Peaches ached for him. But she quickly pushed that ache aside. Do not let yourself get too close here. Keep your priorities straight. You can’t fix everything. She looked down at Wiseass again. “How old is she?”

“Around eight months.”

Wiseass whimpered, rubbing her cold nose against Peaches’s hand. She liked dogs. She hadn’t had one in years, though, not since she’d left Houston. But she still stopped and talked to dogs on the street. They had a better line of conversation than their owners in a lot of cases. She could already feel herself softening.

“We should get along home, so you can get to work. You want to say goodbye?”

Colin knelt down beside the dog, running his hand over her head. “You be good now, okay? We’ll be back together again in a couple of weeks.” He swallowed hard, setting his jaw.

Wiseass whimpered again, as if she understood she was being cast aside. She batted her head against his hand.

Peaches took a deep breath. It would probably be best to get the pup out of here before Colin changed his mind. He looked sort of bereft all of a sudden. Not that she was going to worry about his feelings. She wouldn’t.

“Come on, Wiseass,” she said, “just a short walk from here and we’ll be home. I’ve got lots of cuddling and coddling waiting for you there.”

Colin gave her a look that seemed to include a healthy dose of longing. Maybe he needed to be cuddled and coddled, too. Which was absolutely not a possibility. Right now, she had a puppy to look after. The puppy’s owner would have to take care of himself.