He wanted Olivia to know that. He wanted her to know that while he had failed dismally as a husband, he would be the best possible father to Clara. And a reliable coparent to Olivia.
Unfortunately, dinner service did not go as smoothly as Greyson had hoped it would. They were understaffed because of a flu epidemic sweeping through town and had a much bigger Monday-night crowd than usual.
“Olivia?” Greyson called as he cautiously stepped into the bustling kitchen. He had left Clara asleep in her crib and had the baby monitor tucked in his pocket. Olivia looked up at the sound of her name, and her eyes went frosty when she saw him intruding in her domain.
“Uh-uh . . . unless this is related to Clara, I don’t have time for it.”
It was the first time Greyson had truly seen her in her element, and she was a sight to behold . . . fully in control of her kitchen and staff. Which made what he had come in to say even harder.
“We’re understaffed, and as you know, we’re being slammed out there. We need a couple of your underchefs to step in and . . .”
“No,” she snapped curtly. “They’re not waiters.”
“It wasn’t a request,” Greyson said, his voice cooling significantly. This was business, a business that did not belong to him. And Tina had entrusted him to make these hard calls. Olivia knew that.
“I need all my people,” Libby maintained stubbornly.
“Chef, I can help out. I finished my—” one of the young underchefs began to say.
“Kenny, we need more cabbage sliced for the slaw,” she interrupted the guy shortly, and he practically saluted before rabbiting away to do as she bade.
“That was petty,” Greyson said through gritted teeth.
“You’re in charge. Figure this out.”
“I found a solution,” he pointed out.
“One that doesn’t include my kitchen staff. I told Tina I didn’t want you anywhere near my kitchen.”
“You’re being a raging—” He shut his mouth with a snap, refusing to complete the sentence, and she folded her arms over her chest, chin up as she glared at him.
The rest of the kitchen staff and Ricardo, who had followed Greyson into the kitchen, were staring at them with wide eyes.
“You.” Greyson pointed to a young man, barely out of his teens, standing by one of the industrial-size dishwashers. “What’s your name?”
“Vusi, sir.”
“What do you do?”
“Busboy.”
“Vusi, you’ve been promoted. Ricardo, find him a uniform.”
“I need the busboys,” Libby said urgently. “Without them the kitchen will descend into chaos.”
“They’re here to assist the waitstaff, not the kitchen staff. Besides, I’m letting you keep those guys,” he said, pointing to three other young men also standing by the dishwashers. “But I’m co-opting Vusi.”
“I don’t have any real serving experience, sir,” Vusi said as he untied his apron from around his waist.
“Neither do I, Vusi,” Greyson admitted grimly. “But I guess it’s trial by fire for us both tonight.”
He was actually doing it. Libby sneaked surreptitious peeks around the kitchen doors whenever she had a chance, fascinated by the sight of Greyson Chapman waiting tables. According to a few of the other waitstaff, he had dropped a couple of trays and messed up a few orders, but he was so charming and self-effacing the patrons happily forgave him. Especially when he offered them discounts on food and drink.
Libby felt small and mean for her irrational behavior when he had first come into the kitchen to ask for help. It had been a knee-jerk response to seeing him in her domain. And it hadn’t been her finest moment. When he had actually picked up the slack himself, it had made her feel awful. Because he had shown true leadership in that moment, proving himself willing to get his hands dirty while helping out their beleaguered waitstaff. While Libby had come out looking—and feeling—like the raging bitch he had so nearly called her.
The first time he’d come into the kitchen to pick up an order, she had snidely asked him who was looking after Clara while he was playing waiter. And he had withdrawn his phone from his breast pocket without saying a word. They both had the baby monitor app on their phones, and they had cameras at Libby’s place and in the office. Libby immediately felt silly for asking.
And when she took a moment to go and check on Clara herself, it was to find Lia and Brand in the office sitting with the baby.
“What are you guys doing here?”
“We were just finishing up our meal when we noticed Greyson taking dinner orders. We figured he was probably doing double duty and offered to sit with Clara for a bit,” Lia said.
“That’s so kind of you.”
“That’s what friends are for, right?” Lia stated with a wide smile.
“Greyson did me a solid today, taking on my Monday class,” Brand murmured. “He offered to stand in for me last minute. Least we can do is return the favor.”