Chapter 118


    “Go home,” I interrupt, trying to hide the mild annoyance in my voice—not directed at her, but rather at


    yet another hitch in the day. “Feel better, Sarah.”


    “Thanks, Abby.”


    But then, to make matters worse, I’ve barely been in my office for another half hour when Ben, another


    server, appears in the doorway. He looks just as bad as Sarah.


    “Abby, I think I caught…”


    “Just go,” I groan, passing my hand over my face. “Try not to get anyone else sick.”


    After Ben leaves, I let out a weary sigh and sink further into my chair. Two servers down, a


    disappointed food critic, and the breakfast rush isn’t even over.


    Resigned, I leave the sanctuary of my office, heading back to the floor to help out. That’s when I see


    Mark and Lisa, two of our employees, locked in a heated argument by the hostess stand.


    “He’s stealing my tables!” Lisa exims, her eyes shooting daggers at Mark.


    “Your tables? You don’t own the floor, Lisa!” Mark retorts.


    “Enough!” I interject, my patience wearing thin. “Mark, give Lisa her tables back. Lisa, focus on the


    guests and not internal squabbles.”


    Both nod, mumbling apologies, but the tension lingers in the air after they leave. I watch them go, biting


    the inside of my cheek, before turning back to the hostess station to see a a man standing there with a


    clipboard and an official-looking badge on his jacket.


    “Good morning,” I say as pleasantly as I can. “How many are dining today?”


    “Oh, I’m not dining,” he says with a terse smile, holding his hand out. “I’m Jack Thompson, the health


    inspector. Mind if I take a look around?”


    Of course. The universe still has one more curveball up its sleeve.


    “Certainly, Mr. Thompson,” I manage, taking his outstretched hand. “We always aim to maintain the


    highest standards.”


    I lead him through the kitchen first, where Ethan and the crew are wrapping up the breakfast rush. He


    makes notes on his clipboard, asking to see the temperature logs, the storage areas, and even the


    All of this is standard procedure; except for today, of course, when we’ve already been through the


    wringer more than once.


    “I noticed your cutting boards look rather worn, which could cause food contamination,” he says, a hint


    of sternness intertwined with his words. “And these towels are not stored properly. They need to be in a


    sanitizing solution when not in use.”


    I take a deep breath, fighting the urge to show my frustration. “Absolutely, Mr. Thompson. We’ll rece


    the cutting boards and correct the towel situation immediately.”


    He nods, jotting down more notes on his clipboard. “Very well. Let’s continue.”


    The tour continues for what feels like an eternity, with him pointing out minor infractions, and with me


    nodding and assuring him they’ll be fixed. It’s like having someone walk around with a white glove,


    checking for every little infringement. And I feel like a haggard scullery maid, just wanting to sit down


    for five minutes without being interrupted.


    Finally, he closes his clipboard. “You’ll need to address these issues immediately. Failure toply will


    result in a follow-up visit and potential penalties.”


    “Understood,” I say, trying to keep the exhaustion from seeping into my voice. “We’ll take care of


    everything.”


    After he leaves, I gather the staff for an impromptu meeting. “Alright, listen up. We had a visit from the


    health inspector. There are a few things we need to fix. Ethan, please order new cutting boards. John,


    Karl, make sure your dish towels are stored properly."


    They all nod, their faces a mixture of fatigue and determination. Karl shoots me another worried look


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    and almost seems like he wants to get involved, but I choose to ignore it. Not now, I think to myself. Not


    today.


    Once the meeting ends, I trudge back to my office. I look at the stack of paperwork still on my desk,


    then at the clock. It’s somehow already four o’clock, and I don’t know where the time went. All I know is


    that my eyes are heavy, and my body feels like it’s made of lead.


    I’ll just close my eyes for a second, I think, leaning back in my chair. Just a quick break before I tackle


    the mountain of responsibilities still ahead…


    …


    Suddenly, I’m awoken by the sensation of someone shaking my shoulder… and a surprisingly dark


    office.