Harper's Wish

“We’re not open for business yet.”

Harper looked into the assessing hazel eyes of a woman about her own age. “Oh, I know. I’m Harper. Connor hired me as a server.”

The other woman’s frown deepened. Not a reassuring sight.

“You’re younger than I thought you’d be.”

Harper didn’t know what to make of this. “Um...thanks?”

The woman’s mouth twitched, ever so slightly. “I mean, I always thought the Worth It? column was written by some older, soured socialite.”

“Oh.” Harper’s reputation as a critic had clearly preceded her. What had Connor told his other employees?

“Never mind. Come on inside. I’m Erin, Connor’s sous chef, part-time manager and occasional server.”

Though Connor had said his sous chef also worked as a server, she blinked at the multiple roles the other woman juggled. Erin shrugged. “Times are tough around here, so we all take on additional duties to help out. At least it keeps us from getting too bored. Come on into the back, and I’ll introduce you to Leah. She just got here.”

Erin led the way through the main dining area and toward the back of the room. “Tomorrow, you can enter by the back doors off the alley. Connor unlocks those every morning.”

They emerged from the hallway and into the kitchen. A slim, long-legged teen with hair so black it had a blue sheen stood to the far right, pouring herself a cup of coffee. Erin ignored her and showed Harper the rooms behind the kitchen area. There was a stockroom, a walk-in refrigerator and a laundry area to wash the restaurant linens.

“We use those lockers to store our personal belongings while we’re here.” She gestured to a row of much-abused gray lockers with peeling paint.

Harper followed Erin back into the kitchen.

“Leah?”

The dark-haired woman looked up.

“This is Harper, the new server I was telling you about.”

Leah cocked her head. “I thought you said she was older.”

Erin cleared her throat. “I was wrong—that was just my assumption.”

Harper decided to make the best of this awkward introduction and stepped forward to extend a hand.

“I’m thirty years old,” she offered.

Leah’s face melted into a grin. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that like it sounded.” She stuck her hand in Harper’s. “Is it true you used to be a big-city restaurant critic?”

Harper felt a stab of pain at this reminder. Is this how she was forever to be introduced? Harper Worth, once a well-known restaurant critic of the DC area...now a modest server. But Leah’s smile was warm and friendly so Harper offered one in return.

“Yes. I’m known for the Worth It? column.”

Leah’s eyes widened. “Oh, I think I’ve heard of that. You’re always cutting on restaurants, right?” She went on in a single breath, “It must be so great to live in the city and dine at all the exclusive places.”

Harper winced at Leah’s description of her column. It was sadly accurate. Fortunately, Erin cleared her throat before Harper could respond.

“Leah, I’ll get Harper started off today, but you might have to show her some of the ropes later on.”

“Sweet. Maybe you could tell me what it’s like, living in a big city?”

Harper nodded, and Leah beamed at her. Well, at least it looked as if she might have one friend around here. She hoped Rafael would show up soon, and then she might feel reasonably welcome at her new job. Of course, there was still... She looked around.

“Where’s Connor?”

Before Erin could respond, Connor stepped through the kitchen’s doorway. A shiver ran through her at the sight of him, whether from nerves or something else, she couldn’t be certain. He looked rather dashing in his chef’s uniform, the crisp, white fabric hugging his broad shoulders. His eyes fell on Harper.

“Ah, I see my newest employee has arrived.”

He clapped his hands together and gave Harper the once over. She tensed at the sound.

“Let’s get you started, shall we?”

* * *

HARPER STARED AS Connor held out the handle of a mop in her direction.

“What’s that?” she asked with some trepidation.

“What’s it look like?” Connor turned the question around.

He shook the handle to get her to take it, and she gripped it in her hands as he released it to her.

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

“The bathrooms need a thorough going-over. You can start by mopping, and then I’ll show you where the rest of the cleaning supplies are kept so you can do the toilets, sink and the like.”

Harper stiffened. Connor had warned her there’d be chores, but she hadn’t expected she’d start her first shift cleaning the restrooms. “Shouldn’t I be learning the menu first?”

Connor clicked his tongue at her. “Tsk, tsk, Ms. Worth. Are you so high and mighty that you won’t lower yourself to scrub a few floors?”

Harper bit the inside of her cheek to keep from snapping back an undignified reply. Had this been Connor’s motivation when he offered her a job—saddling her with the most demeaning duties in the restaurant?

“I did tell you that you’d have to pitch in with the cleaning tasks,” he reminded.

“You did,” she conceded, “but you seem kind of smug about it.”

“Smug?” He scowled. “Might I remind you that you’re speaking to your new boss?”

She cringed. What had she gotten herself into?

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking of quitting before you’ve even begun,” he goaded.

Of course. He’d enjoy that—for her to admit defeat. Was that what he’d wanted all along? Or did he really need a server? Well, it didn’t matter. She needed this job, and she was not the stuck-up snob he implied. She had no problem cleaning toilets—her father had instilled a driving work ethic in her from the time she was small. But her pride prickled at the way Connor had presented the job.

She raised her head and looked Connor in the eye. “You’d better show me where the mop bucket is kept.”