A Second Helping Read Online Free Page B

sleek retro design. Its custom-made jukebox, refurbished red booths, and dark wood dining counter gave the place style again. The kitchen was top-of-the-line, chef-certified, and the diner had its own router, thus allowing the D&C to function as a wi-fi café as well.
    Because it had once served as the hub of the community, everyone wanted it to become that again, but it wouldn’t happen if folks had issues with the new chef and the chef with them. Oh, to be back in Barcelona with its warm weather and no problems, she thought wistfully. Bringing her mind back to the present, she focused on the empty interior of the D&C. It was Monday, ten in the morning. The place should have been bustling with locals and the workers from the town’s various construction sites, but there wasn’t a soul inside. She didn’t even see the waitstaff.
    â€œWhere’s everybody?”
    Mal shrugged. “Probably taking her suggestion to eat somewhere else.”
    â€œThat’s not going to work.”
    â€œNo kidding.” She and Malachi also envisioned the diner as a profit-making establishment, but that wouldn’t happen either if they couldn’t put fannies in the booths. Although Malachi was the owner, she was the one paying the freight, including the salaries of the help until the place could pay for itself. With that in mind, she headed for the kitchen, hoping they could talk some sense into Florene so she wouldn’t have to be replaced.
    Florene was seated on a tall stool at one of the counters, writing on a pad. She was dressed in chef whites. Her light brown face appeared younger than her nineteen years and she had her auburn-tinted hair pulled back in a tail that she’d twisted into a bun. At their entrance she glanced up and set the pen aside.
    â€œWelcome back, Ms. Brown. Did you have a good time in Spain?”
    â€œI did. How are you?”
    â€œI’d be better if the people around here wanted to eat something besides grits and pork chops,” she declared, and glared at Malachi.
    Bernadine ignored the bad attitude, for the moment. “I hear there’s been a few bumps.”
    â€œNot from me. It’s him and the rest of these country-time folk.”
    â€œWhy are you serving green beans for breakfast?” Bernadine asked pleasantly.
    â€œIt’s novel. Anybody can cook eggs. I want to be known as adventurous, eclectic—a chef that doesn’t follow the trends.”
    â€œAnd there’s nothing wrong with that,” Bernadine explained as gently as she could. “But this is a diner in Kansas, Florene, not a bistro in L.A.”
    â€œSo I should waste my skills?”
    Bernadine sighed. Lord knew she didn’t want to break the young woman’s spirit. “Honey, there will be a time and a place for you and your skills. Right now you’re in a community college culinary program and we need you to prepare what your diners want to eat. I don’t mind you introducing new dishes. In fact, I’m encouraging you to do so. But on a Saturday morning, folks here want waffles, pancakes, and eggs.”
    â€œThen they want another chef.”
    Bernadine studied her for a moment. “Then you’re quitting?”
    â€œNo. I want to be allowed to run my kitchen as I see fit.”
    â€œThen you’re quitting,” Mal said. “I’ll send an e-mail toyour professor. You’re a good cook and I’ll tell her that, but you can’t be hardheaded and work for me.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œWhen you get your kitchen you can deal the deck,” he added pointedly. “I’ll put your last check in the mail. Thank you for your service to Henry Adams, Florene.”
    â€œYou can’t just fire me!”
    But Bernadine wasn’t about to spend the morning listening to a child whose opinion of herself was off the charts, so she said to Malachi, “Will you see to it that Florene gets all of her personal