Free Don't Forget Me by Meg Benjamin Page B

and only borderline competent. Phillip knew what he was doing, but he wasn’t likely to warm up the customers with an expression that made him look like a former serial killer. Still, when a group of six came in, she put them on Phillip’s station, although it would bring him close to capacity, since only he was remotely capable of handling a group of that size. She hoped his tips would make up for it.
    The rush began to die down around one thirty, although they still got a few groups of four and some couples.
    When she’d run the last credit card and watched the last table of four head through the dining room entrance, Kit collapsed into one of the booths near the bar. If this pace kept up, she’d forget about looking professional and start wearing running shoes.
    LeBlanc appeared beside her, carrying a bowl and a couple of plates. Apparently he’d been a waiter in some earlier incarnation. He placed the bowl in front of her. “Mushroom bisque. Saved you a bowl. The server corps managed to move the rest of it.”
    He dropped down opposite her, putting a plate of cheese, bread and fruit in the middle of the table while he set a large Panini in front of himself. “See what you got yourself into, darlin’?”
    Kit picked up her spoon. “This is insane. If it’s like this at lunch, why aren’t we open for dinner? Surely we’d pick up some of this crowd.”
    LeBlanc’s smile curdled. “You got that right. I don’t know what the hell Mabel’s waiting for. You want a fine dining experience in Konigsburg, right now it’s Brenner’s. It’s taken us a while to build back up from where that asshole Carville left us, but word’s gotten out little by little. We could definitely give Brenner’s a good run for the dinner crowd.”
    “Do you do breakfasts too?”
    He shrugged. “We buy pastry from your aunt, and either Jorge or Leo comes in early to make omelets. It’s mostly for the inn guests anyway.”
    “What about Sunday brunch?”
    LeBlanc glowered again. “I’ve been trying to get Mable to let us start one, but she’s dragging her feet. Hell, brunch makes a shitload of money and it burns off leftovers. What’s to lose?”
    Kit shook her head. “What leftovers?”
    His grin returned. “Piece of advice, darlin’—don’t get anything on a brunch table that’s served in a cream sauce.”
    “So no brunch and no dinners.” She frowned. “Seems like a waste of a great kitchen and what could be a great restaurant.”
    LeBlanc grimaced. “It is a waste of a great kitchen. Right now the only outside stuff we’re doing is catering for groups at the event center. Sooner or later Mabel will get her ass in gear, but right now she’s stalling.”
    Kit took a bite of her mushroom bisque and sat up straight. The earthy, woodsy taste of the mushrooms was bound in a silken sauce of broth and cream. Her taste buds were applauding. “This is wonderful.”
    His mouth spread in a slow grin. “Well, sure it is, darlin’. I don’t do crap.”
    She didn’t bother to comment. Judging from his bisque, his opinion was justified. “No wonder we’re doing such great business.”
    “Yeah, now maybe ol’ Mabel will hire somebody who actually knows how to serve food,” LeBlanc growled.
    Kit sighed. “Elaine’s trying. She just needs more experience. I’ll work with her—she’ll pick it up. And Philip does okay.”
    “Ol’ Phil knows his way around a table. Course he only learned it after Mabel hired him, but he’s a quick study.”
    “He didn’t have any experience when he came?” Kit shook her head. “I thought that’s why you must have hired him. I mean he’s sort of mature for a beginning waiter.”
    “Hey, darlin’, I was desperate. All the wait staff quit when Carville cut their wages. Mabel kept promising me people, but she didn’t get around to it. Phil showed up looking for a job and he wasn’t fussy about what he did, so I drafted him. Showed him how to be a waiter, so we at least had a warm