Abby
The door to the restaurant swings open with a familiar creak, and the scent of fresh coffee and bread reaches my nostrils.
It’s been two days since Karl left town. Things are finally back in full swing after the competition, but I took the weekend off to recover—not just from the cook-off, but from everything else, too. Now, though, I feel a little more prepared to take on my work.
“Morning, Abby,” Ethan greets, his eyes meeting mine over the bar. He’s neck-deep in paperwork; we’re all playing catch-up, considering how everyone was sick with food poisoning. I still wonder where that came from in my impeccably clean kitchen, but I suppose that accidents happen.
But then again, after the fire, the ingredient sabotage on the cooking competition, and the food poisoning, I’
