Page 11 of A Swan for Christmas

Chapter Five

Vic leaned against the walk-in cooler in the restaurant kitchen, going over the bar list to verify the liquor order. The upcoming holidays meant an increase in sales for certain items.

Champagne. He always carried a few bottles of premium then several mid-range brands. Brandy, rum, bourbon, top shelf scotch… Vic plucked at his beard as he pondered whether to add to his coffee liqueur order from the previous year. By the time New Year’s Eve had rolled around, he’d run out of a few.

“Hiya boss man.”

Vic glanced up from his clipboard to see his head cook, Skip, ambling in from the back door for his dinner shift. “Hey, Skip.” He set the clipboard down on the prep table stool. “Have our turkeys come in yet?”

“Nope. Only the hams.”

“The sweet potatoes?”

“Yup. Two crates full.” Skip moved around the kitchen, taking tops off of sauce pans in the warmer, stirring the soup of the day and getting his pans out. “Did Chester finish washing the skillets from lunch service?”

Vic crossed his arms. “Skip? Can you focus for a second?”

The older wolf, a beta from what was left of Vic’s pack, turned to face him while scratching his apron-covered round belly. “Yeah?”

Vic kept his eye-roll to himself. “Chester is on break and I’m sure he’ll be happy to share that with you when he gets back. I haven’t been here most of the afternoon. But I was—”

“Problems at the inn?”

Vic let out an aggravated sigh. “No. Personal business. As I was saying—”

“What kind of personal business?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. It was a damn good thing everything was different now that they were in Vale. He might be Alpha, but he’d let a lot of the old pack dynamics go once their rag-tag bunch had arrived. I’m still his damn boss, though.

“Skip. It’s personal and it’s none of your business. May I continue?”

Skip harrumphed and mumbled under his breath. “I ain’t stopping you.”

“I’d like to order a third crate of sweet potatoes. And those garnet yams.”

Skip arched his eyebrows. “That’s a sweet potato.”

Vic frowned. “But… Well, how do you tell the difference between them?”

“The sweet potato is the one that tastes good and the yam is the one that tastes like shit.”

Goddess help me. “Okay, how about this. However you can manage it, I’d like to make sure you have at least three crates of the ones that taste good and…” Kellan seems to like a lot of vegetables. “How about one crate of the shitty ones, just in case.”

Skip shook his head and snorted. “Whatever you say, boss. It’s your dog and pony show.”

Vic didn’t even want to ask. “Thanks. Also, keep an eye on the turkey situation. A lot of people in town and the whole staff rely on us having dinner for them here on Thanksgiving, and I don’t want anyone disappointed.”

Skip gave him a thumbs up then went about his work. After doing his best to keep his concentration on the alcohol order, instead of on getting back to Kellan, Vic decided it looked good and hung the clipboard on the peg for the bar manager to take care of in the morning. All he wanted was to join Kellan who was waiting for him in the dining room.

The moment Vic spotted him sitting in one of the booths near the host station, his heart picked up a quicker pace. The dinner crowd wouldn’t start coming in for another hour or so, and only one person sat at the counter that was in front of the open kitchen, two guys at the bar on one side of the dining room, and a young couple in a corner booth. The restaurant famous for it’s American-style comfort eats was edged with booths on two sides, the bar and counter on the others. Like the inn, the primary color scheme incorporated green, although Vic had made a concession by letting Dora have a red carnation in a bud vase at each table. Once twilight hit, then the small brass and crystal candle lamps would be lit.

As he drew closer to the booth, he could detect Kellan’s scent, which he could swear was even more pungent than the day before. Maybe it’s that I’m anticipating it. Kellan glanced up when he was almost at the table.

Kellan gave him a wide grin. “Everything okay in the kitchen?”

Vic slid into the booth next to Kellan and draped his arm over the top of the banquette. “Fine. I hope you haven’t been too bored?”

“Not at all. I’ve been memorizing the menu for when I start working and Dora told me the table numbers. Do you want to quiz me?”