DREA (GxG)

Molly/Mia Valentine's Day

TW// The last bit of this chapter very gently touches on reproductive coercion, which is a form of sexual abuse. If you're not all for that, you can skip right ahead.

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February 14th, 2021

We are all booked out for this entire evening. As early as 3 p.m. we have reservation after reservation lined up for both restaurants. New York is worse and I'm not proud to be doing what I'm doing by capping everybody's dinner at an hour max but, they wouldn't take 'we're all booked out' for an answer and would rather eat for an hour so who am I to turn them away? It is standard for people to eat for an hour at restaurants, but on special holidays, that time tends to go up to at least two hours. Special occasion usually means special orders. On days like Valentine's Day, people tend to order more than just entrées and desserts. They order full-course meals. And for my restaurants, it's usually five-course meals and up. These usually run well over an hour.

I am nervous.

I promised myself that I would not set foot in this kitchen today, especially with the way my phones have been ringing off the hook, but I cannot help myself. We're packed, something which I expected for New York but not for DC. We are still new here and while my name has a lot of stigmata around it, this restaurant doesn't, yet. Or so I thought. Now, I'm in deep shit.

Because I expected New York to be overflowing with diners, I sent multiple extra boxes of our complimentary Valentine's Day chocolate truffles there and only kept ten boxes here. Now, at only 5 p.m., we're on the last box. The last 40 and it's just 5 pm. What do I do to extricate myself from this wicked dilemma? More Truffles. I've made 200 of these rose-scented chocolate truffles so far. Because above all, I cannot start giving complimentary treats, and then stop before most of my guests even arrive.

To make matters worse, we already have all hands on deck. I have twenty-three chefs here in the kitchen, fifty waiters and two bartenders plus twenty-five ushers but we're still stretched thin. We have an engagement banquet in our studio dining hall and a wedding rehearsal dinner in our private dining room that is sucking all our attention. In total, we currently have over 300 guests in this restaurant at this moment plus at least 60 people upstairs in our lounge and I— It's a nightmare.

Whoever said Valentine's Day was something to ever look forward to? As I put another set of truffles to chill in the fridge and another chocolate cake in the oven, my phone rings from my office. "Chef—"

"I got it." I interrupt Kelsey, already heading over. The sound of broken glass makes me cringe so hard I swear my spine has a dent in it. That's the eighteenth one today. "Stop breaking my fucking shit!"

I snatched the phone off the receiver and held it against my ear. "Chef Ross."

The sound of Molly's gentle, soothing voice always calms me down even when I'm having a shitty fucking day. I quickly sprint over to the office door, my shoes squeaking on the polished floor. "Hey Kels, Keep an eye on that cake for me?"

"Yes, chef."

I slither back into my office, closing the door behind me. "Detective Harris. Hi!"

"Hey." The word flows off her breath. "How're you?"

"Good. You? Is it busy today? Any investigations that want to ruin our plans?"

"It's always busy on Valentine's Day but no, nothing that's gonna keep me away from you."

My stomach flutters. "Well, fingers crossed, there's no need for an extra detective tonight."

She laughs a little. "I guess that means we're still on over on your end, too? No critics to please?"