all the pieces lie where they fell...

It was just supposed to be a favor. A couple of days managing Primrose’s kitchen while the head chef was on vacation. He didn’t trust any of his sous chefs to handle the task and was quite familiar with Monday’s skill and reputation. It was only natural that he’d asked the man to oversee his kitchen. Despite being swamped with planning his lessons and juggling his personal life he had agreed to the daunting task. Three days into the deal and Monday was already regretting his decision.

Managing the kitchen had taken up much more time than Monday had predicted. He’d hoped that he’d be able to set tasks and schedules and the staff would be able to stick to them. Of course, best-laid plans had a habit of being turned on their head. It seemed like every hour some sort of emergency arose and Monday would have to stop what he was doing in order to set things right.

Monday had owned two restaurants and he'd never felt like his staff had been as incompetent as the line cooks and chefs at Primrose. It was almost as if he'd signed up to teach a whole other sect of students. His frustration presented itself in his work, snapping at the men and women he was supervising and casting venomous comments about their craft and intelligence.

Guilt and anxiety made it difficult for the crocodile to sleep. When he looked at his phone and saw that it was nearly one in the morning all thoughts of gaining a restful nights sleep fled his mind. With a heavy sigh, he pushed himself from his bed and made himself decent, throwing on a pair of black lounge pants and a navy blue tank top. He skulked through the darkened halls of Primrose his topaz eyes dilating as he became acclimated to the near total darkness. His thoughts turned towards the kitchen’s inventory and the schedule that he’d already changed three times.

The clatter of steel and bottles roused him from his inner musings as he neared the kitchen. A scowl distorted his expressive lips as he looked up and saw the lights in his kitchen. He doubted that it was any of his temporary underlings. That would have been more initiative then he could see them mustering. He smoothed his features and walked forward, lightly opening the swinging double doors of the kitchen.

He smelled her before he even saw her. The scent of sangria permeating the air of the kitchen. His lip curled downward as he stalked through the kitchen towards the origin of the clamor and the intruder. He found her there, fridge door thrown open haphazardly, and a wry smile plastered on her delicate features. It was only there second meeting but it was also the second time Monday had seen Anna Smith in this state.

A dozen thoughts flashed through the man's head. Concern, confusion, irritation all fought for supremacy. In the end, cold professionalism won out. “Ms.Smith, you're up awfully late.” Monday stood with his arms crossed over his chest as he looked down at the woman. He refused to comment on the smell of wine on her breath. “I’m sorry to break it to you but the kitchens closed and a restricted area. I’m gonna have to ask you to-” Monday paused as he noticed something was amiss. The woman seemed disheveled, a far cry from her usual composure, and something was just ever so off about her posture. The stern look on his features melted away and the tension in his shoulders eased. “Is everything okay?”

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Tags: @anna