weapons † hs [two]

5. office scandal

"What are you doing? Get to work!"

The employee flees and Ryan and I glance at each other, wide eyed and intimidated at Harry's outburst.

"I'll explain everything later," he whispers as he continues with us, speaking in a quieter, nicer way. "Right now, just go and clean the dining area, please."

"Yes, Chef Ramsay," my friend and I chide in sync, each of us walking around Harry out of the room, avoiding his eye contact, and putting our aprons on.

We can feel Caleb's prying eyes when Ryan and I sneak out of the kitchen, joining several waiters and waitresses already setting up the dining area for the lunch opening.

"Well, where the hell is the cleaning stuff?"

Ryan and I start to search around, but I find a tub filled with clean rags for me to wipe the tables down, and Ryan decides to set the tables with napkins and condiments instead.

I approach my first table that hasn't been touched yet, setting the rag down before trying to take down the heavy chairs from on top of it, wincing.

"Fuck, babe—" Ryan is the first to notice my struggle, hurrying from his table to help me with it, quietly reminding, "You're pregnant, not Wonder Woman for fuck's sake."

He proceeds to handle the chairs from that table and the next one, and I thank him before he resumes his chore. I take the cleaning spray and soak the table, bending over the table to wipe it, though the fume of the cleaner suddenly hits me.

I stand up immediately and cough, the processed citrus smell agitating my sensitive senses so much that I start to feel queasy.

"Ryan..." I make a shushed plea for help, getting his attention.

"I can't deal with the smell, please can we switch?"

I see him let out a heavy sigh, though he nods and kindly agrees to take my chore since he understands, with months of dealing with a pregnant Caroline prone to vomiting, how triggered my senses get with any number of certain smells.

"Why don't I slip in there and get you some water, okay?" Ryan whispers his plan in my ear, tottering off to the kitchen to retrieve me a water bottle from the break room's refrigerator.

Meanwhile, I take Ryan's work and set the tables, placing salt and pepper shakers in the middle, the fancy bottles of condiments around them, and the stack of cutlery wrapped in a cloth napkins on a tray next to me falls almost empty as I wait for my bottle of water for what feels like ages.

A couple more minutes pass until he walks out of the kitchen, angry, handing me over the bottle with a clenched jaw.

"Let me just give you a heads up," Ryan leans in, his voice rather sharp, "Caleb is onto us. He asked if I knew Harry and I had to lie, and then he asked me why I took your cleaning job. He is watching us like a fucking hawk!"

"Wait, you didn't tell him I'm pregnant, did you?"

If he knows, he could tell Harry, and this could get ugly.

"No, that seems to be a secret only I get to know about, unfortunately," he seethes, returning to his work, still pissed that I haven't told Harry.

Soon enough when the dining room is ready, the Saturday lunch rush begins, and the restaurant fills to the rim. Harry had apparently assigned us to do the easy work and follow around other employees for "training", the two of us finding out when two women came up to us and asked if we were ready to train. Inside we were thankful, Ryan and I not having to do very difficult work at all aside from learn stuff we really weren't going to ever use again.