Hot Cocoa Hearts Page 16
“Sure,” Mei said, but it was more like an afterthought, because she was already walking away with Ben, ducking her head in a shy way that looked suspiciously like flirting.
My eyes lingered on Mei and Ben as I tried to puzzle through what had just happened. But a group of camera-wielding tourists had lined up at the window, and I had to focus on work.
Cleo suggested we switch positions, so this time she shouted the orders back to me while I made sandwiches. My fingers flew, slicing bread, dipping into the containers of diced chicken and avocado slices, watching my ingredients stack higher and higher.
The Tasty Truck is basically my happy place. From the first time I stepped inside three years ago, I fell in love. The steel counters, cabinets, and cooktops are sleek and shiny, and the fridge is always stocked. Some people get claustrophobic in food trucks. But to me, it’s a cozy nest filled with mouthwatering food, buzzing energy, and inspiration.
Before Cleo and Gabe opened the truck, most days I came home from school to a nanny. Mom and Dad both work in finance, and sometimes it feels like they’re away more than they’re home. Dad was in Zurich last month, and now they’re both in Rome. Neither my parents nor the nannies cared much for my “kitchen experiments,” which is what I called my cooking when I was younger. But then Cleo moved into the upstairs “nanny quarters” of our town house. My dad made a deal with her that she could stay there while she got her truck business up and running, as long as she helped keep an eye on me, too. Cleo and I got busy turning the rooftop of our house into an amazing organic garden, where she gets all the fresh veggies and herbs for the truck. Cleo never scolded me for messes in the kitchen. Instead, she helped me make them. And suddenly, life didn’t seem quite so lonely. Especially on a day like today, when the Tasty Truck was hopping with customers and Cleo, Gabe, and I were in our groove.
The line finally tapered off around 4:45, which was perfect, because we usually close around five. We were counting the register and locking the food away in the storage cabinets when I heard a little cough outside the truck.
I spun around and glanced out the window, startled to spot Mrs. Rivers standing there, still in her Burberry raincoat. I’d never seen Asher’s mom at the truck before!
“Um, would you like to order a sandwich?” I asked clumsily.
“No, thank you,” she said politely. She gave me a small smile, then added, “Tessa Kostas, right?” I nodded, surprised that she knew my name; she must have remembered me from Asher’s birthday bash last year. “May I please speak to the owner of the truck?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said, feeling a little nervous as I turned to summon Cleo. I wondered if there was some sort of complaint coming.
Cleo hurried over to the window, and I pretended to be wiping off the counter while I eavesdropped.
“I have a bit of an odd request,” I heard Mrs. Rivers say after she and Cleo had introduced themselves. “I wanted to talk to you about my son, Asher. He and Tessa go to school together.” She paused, as if the next words were difficult to say. “He needs an after-school job, and I thought this would be a good place for him to work. I was wondering if you needed help.”
“Asher wants to work at our truck?” I blurted, before I could stop myself. Cleo and Mrs. Rivers both glanced at me, surprised.
Then Mrs. Rivers shook her head. “Not exactly, but he doesn’t have a choice. It’s part of a punishment I’m giving him, a lesson in learning to appreciate things a bit more.”
Suddenly, I remembered how Mrs. Rivers had scolded Asher outside the school earlier that afternoon. Having Asher work here was probably the fallout from that. But there was no way Cleo was going to hire Asher. The truck was a tight fit for three people, let alone four.
But then, Cleo shocked me by saying, “Actually, Gabe and I were just talking about hiring more help for the next few months.”
They were? I swallowed, and my heart hammered.
“This will work out perfectly,” Cleo continued. “When can Asher start?”
“After school tomorrow,” Mrs. Rivers said. She extended a hand to Cleo. “Thank you so much. Asher’s had a rough year, and I think this will be a wonderful change, and challenge, for him.”
Gabe nodded. “We’ll be glad to have him.”
Mrs. Rivers nodded once more, gratefully, and then hurried off toward her parked car.
The second she was gone, I spun to Cleo, a steady dread simmering in my veins. “But … but Asher can’t work here!” I sputtered. I quickly painted a picture of his personality for my aunt, hoping the birthday-party story would discourage her. Then I added, “There’s not enough room in the truck for four of us, and I’m sure he doesn’t know a thing about cooking or food, and we have so much to do to get ready for Flavorfest already….” And he’ll ruin everything, I almost said, but didn’t.
Cleo smiled. “It’ll be fine,” she said as she finished buckling the veggie containers into their seat belts for the ride home. “Like I told Mrs. Rivers, Gabe and I were talking about hiring some extra help anyway.”
Gabe nodded while he locked the cabinets so nothing would fly open. “I’m going to be busy working on my grad thesis for the next couple of months, and there’s an evening horticulture class Cleo wants to take at Berkeley.”
“Besides,” Cleo added, “having Asher around will give us more time to work on our Flavorfest menu.”
Doubt must have been all over my face, because Cleo laughed and tweaked my nose playfully. “Come on, Tessa. Just cut him some slack, and I’m sure your cooking instincts will rub off on him in no time. Okay?”
I sighed, but because I love Cleo and didn’t want to argue with her, I reluctantly bit into the inevitable. “Okay,” I said. “But if he gives all of our customers botulism, don’t blame me.”
Cleo laughed so hard she snorted, which is one of the things I love best about her. “Done,” she finally said.
Cleo’s reassurance didn’t help, though. I was sure of one thing: There were about to be way too many cooks in the Tasty Truck kitchen.
Suzanne Nelson has written several children’s books, including Cake Pop Crush, You’re Bacon Me Crazy, Macarons at Midnight, and Serendipity’s Footsteps. She lives with her family in Ridgefield, Connecticut, where she can be found experimenting with all kinds of cooking. Learn more about Suzanne at www.suzannenelson.com.
Also by Suzanne Nelson
Cake Pop Crush
Macarons at Midnight
You’re Bacon Me Crazy
Serendipity’s Footsteps
Copyright © 2015 by Suzanne Nelson
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First edition, 2016
e-ISBN 978-0-545-94474-8
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Nelson, Hot Cocoa Hearts