Free Don't Forget Me by Meg Benjamin

could enter the reservations that had come through on the computer last night before digging through the others that had landed on voice mail.
    By mid-morning she’d begun to worry about overbooking—apparently the software had no way to check for availability. She figured she could juggle things around for today, but tomorrow she’d definitely have to figure out something different.
    Actually, the more she worked on it, the more Kit became convinced that the whole system needed to be replaced. The Rose should probably have been using a national reservation service rather than trying to limp by with something one step up from email on their web site. She’d discuss it with Ms. Morgenstern, but it seemed like a no-brainer.
    At ten, Morgenstern appeared again, brushing the wrinkles out of her beige linen suit. “All right, dear, time to get the dining room set up for the lunch crowd,” she trilled. She gave Kit the usual sunny smile, then promptly scuttled back into her office again.
    Fortunately, Kit had already taken a peek at the dining room on her way in that morning. Like the rest of the inn, it was elegance personified. The tables were set with pink linen cloths and green napkins, the crystal and silver sparkling in the sun. French doors opened onto a patio with a view of distant green hills. She guessed the patio would provide some great outdoor dining possibilities later in the spring, although it was too cool in the shade at the moment.
    She stood in the center of the room now, trying to familiarize herself with the layout diagram she’d found at the hostess station. The French door to the patio creaked open behind her, and she turned to see Joe LeBlanc’s massive frame filling the doorway.
    “Took the job, I see.”
    Kit gave him her professional smile. “Yes I did. Now I’m trying to see where the server stations are.”
    He glanced over her shoulder, then shook his head at the diagram. “That thing’s out of date. We don’t have five servers anymore.”
    Kit raised an eyebrow. “For the off-season, you mean?”
    LeBlanc gave her a slightly sour smile. “For any season. We got two, and you better hope they both show up. If one of them stays home to nurse a hangover, things go to hell fast.”
    Kit did a quick calculation. Two servers would be responsible for around fifteen tables each, some of them with seating for six. All of a sudden, she really hoped they weren’t too busy at lunch. “What happened to the other three servers?”
    “Quit when the restaurant went to shit. Weren’t enough customers to justify that many servers anyway, given the stuff coming out of Carville’s kitchen most of the time. Now traffic’s picking up again, but Morgenstern won’t hire any new staff.”
    Kit’s shoulders tightened. “Maybe she’s waiting to see the monthly receipts.”
    LeBlanc gave her a slow smile. “Yeah, well, maybe. Anyway, you got two servers and a busboy to work with. I give everybody a rundown on the specials at ten thirty. We open at eleven thirty.”
    Kit checked her watch. That gave her fifteen minutes to go to the bathroom, check her makeup, and try to make her pulse rate slow down to something approaching normal.
    Fifteen minutes later she stood in the kitchen with what passed for her staff. One of the servers, Elaine, was so young she looked underage for a dining room that served wine. The other, Phillip, was probably in his forties. He was also probably experienced, but Kit wasn’t sure at what. His face looked like he’d been through a lot of hell in some capacity.
    The busboy was named Gabriel. He was maybe seventeen, but he clearly felt his age was no handicap to his budding career as a lady killer. Kit had told him gently but quite firmly that she didn’t get involved with people she worked with. Gabriel didn’t look like he was going to let that stop him.
    LeBlanc watched her with that same sardonic grin he’d had in the dining room. One of these days she’d tell him just