Christmas Home (The Coming Home #6)

6. Clyde

six

Clyde

I cringed as Mrs. Cole tore my coworker a new one. “I pay you to be here on time, and no, it’s not okay that you show up thirty minutes late, causing everyone else here to work double time.” The girl lowered her head, but I could see the smirk.

Well, that one ain’t gonna last, I thought before grabbing the bussing equipment to make myself useful. Experience taught me when a restaurant owner started firing, they didn’t tend to stop at one, and I needed this damn job.

I wasn’t two steps out of the kitchen when I noticed the silver fox but forced myself not to make eye contact. Besides, the sharply dressed man sitting across from him was likely his lover. Again, I reminded myself to keep people happy and keep my head down to keep my job.

By the time I returned to the kitchen, I expected to be told to get back on the grill, but the snarky woman had somehow managed to keep her job. I carried the dishes to the dishwasher and separated the food and trash in the bins. Then I ran the dishes through the cycle.

I’d worked in a heck of a lot of restaurants, and dishes were a never-ending job. No exception here. Luckily, Mrs. Cole ran an organized place because I didn’t even have to ask where anything went.

I finished with the dirty dishes and dashed out the door with a stack of clean plates and silverware to repeat the process. There’s not much glory working in a restaurant. It’s hard, backbreaking work, but if someone knows their way around a kitchen, it’s mindless, and they can spend time on their thoughts…when they want. I didn’t want to, but that didn’t mean I could escape them.

Mrs. Cole had spoken to my last employer, which meant they knew where I was working now. My ex might be an idiot, but even he would eventually figure out to ask where my last paycheck was sent. I didn’t think my previous job would give a shit about confidentiality.

Most likely, the cops would be the ones to ask, which was worse. Extradition , that’s the word. I’d heard it on NCIS , my favorite TV show, many times.

I’d taken just under a thousand dollars from him. It made sense he’d want it back. But I was here now, and there wasn’t a dang thing I could do but work and hope.

“You about done?” Mrs. Cole asked, catching my attention.

“Yes, ma’am. Do you need me for somethin’ else?” I asked.

She laughed. “Son, it’s past your working time. You should’ve clocked out half an hour ago. Come on, leave that for Tommy to deal with, and have a bite before you leave.”

I was shocked. How had the day gone so fast? I did as she instructed, once again feeling hungry. I hadn’t eaten during my lunch break, telling her I didn’t like to work on a full stomach, but now, well, I was ready for a bite or a hundred.

I grabbed a couple of pieces of fried chicken because it had enticed me all day long, and if the dirty plates that’d rolled in at lunchtime were any indication, it was as good as it smelled. Peas, potatoes, homemade rolls. It all looked so yummy.

I sat near the kitchen door, since that seemed to be where employees sat, and dug in. “Oh, Mother Mary and Baby Jesus,” I whispered to myself as the juice from the chicken almost dripped down my shirt. How on earth was this so delicious?

I was well into my meal when Mrs. Cole joined me. “Son, I understand now why your other employer was upset you were gone. You are one heck of a good worker.” I blushed. Accepting compliments wasn’t my strong suit, probably because they were rare. “I’m gonna have to let Lydia go. Bless her, I’ve given her every chance under the sun,” she said and shook her head. “Don’t you fret about that, but I’m gonna need a short-order cook more than I’m gonna need a busser. I’d do it myself, but I try to spend most of my time out on the floor these days.”

I nodded and swallowed the chicken I’d just bitten off. “I’m willin’ to do whatever’s needed, ma’am. Just point me in the direction you want me.”

She chuckled. “You’re a breath of fresh air, Clyde Griffin. I’ll see you before the crack of dawn tomorrow. Now don’t be comin’ in late on me, you hear?”

I smiled. “No, ma’am. I’ll be on time.” In fact, I’d get here early just to show my gratitude. It’s not like I hadn’t pulled early mornings in the past, even though I’d never been a morning person. I preferred lounging in bed, not that I was a man of leisure. I doubted I ever would be. Some of us are supposed to be silver foxes . I thought of the sexy one from earlier. And some of us are meant to be peasants. Clearly, peasant was my destiny.