“Hey, Scotty,” I call down the bar. The younger man spins on the spot to face me, his enthusiasm palpable. “You’re fired.” Now we get a full-fledged grin and a salute from him. “Ha! Sure thing, Chef.” Then he turns around and goes back to work. Rhys’s glare has darkened, and it strangely excites me, so I grin back at him. “See? Scotty can take it. You just need to toughen up a bit.”
