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A moment later she followed him out.
    Lizzy watched the kitchen door swing closed behind her. “Well, that was interesting.”
    Desi shrugged, turning back to the dishwasher. “Maybe. The thing is, whatever they decide it’s just going to mean more work for us.”
    â€œPossibly.” She frowned. There had been all sorts of intriguing undercurrents in that conversation, but she hadn’t really been in the kitchen long enough to get a clear read on what was going on. “Very possibly.”
    Whatever it was, Desi was undoubtedly right about one thing. It would definitely mean more work for the two of them.
    *****
    Clark left his office earlier than usual that evening. He wanted a beer. He’d even say he needed a beer. He was still nursing a case of being irritated with nowhere to direct his irritation. The galling thing was that Clarice was telling the truth—the breakfast buffet had turned into a feeding frenzy for post-adolescent outdoors types, and he’d let it happen because the buffet itself was a cash cow.
    He didn’t mind enthusiastic diners—they paid the bills. But when he’d bought Praeger House, he’d vowed to make it the best hotel in town. He’d done that to his own satisfaction. It might not be the most luxurious place in Salt Box, but it was definitely up there. Travel guides ranked it consistently among the top three hotels in the area, and that included the major chains at the ski resort. But he’d let the food service slide because he didn’t have the expertise. And the breakfast buffet clearly wasn’t up to the Praeger House standard anymore.
    The Best of the Box competition had been around for several years, and he’d done well with it every year. Praeger House got regular mentions for accommodations and beautiful grounds. Given that the hotel had started out as a mostly derelict building that Clark had brought back to its former glory—restoring the place to the grandeur it had once had as a timber baron’s mansion—those mentions were more than welcome.
    But the larger part of the ratings was always food-oriented: best burger, best pizza, best romantic dining spot, and so on. Why shouldn’t Praeger House get a mention there too? If they were going to be the best of the best, the food service should be part of it.
    He was still a little annoyed that Clarice hadn’t shown more enthusiasm for the idea. How tough would it be to make the breakfast buffet a little more special? Hell, they already did omelets. It didn’t seem that much harder to add French toast or something.
    He plunged his hands into his pockets and headed for the back door, still simmering slightly. He wasn’t sure how to deal with the situation. Clarice had basically refused to do anything about Best of the Box, and he didn’t get the impression that decision was going to be open to discussion. Firing Clarice wasn’t an option since replacing her would be a true pain in the ass, although she was beginning to annoy him seriously. She’d run the kitchen for a couple of years now and she’d done a decent job. He wasn’t interested in the hassle of hiring somebody new, particularly in a foodie town like this one.
    As he neared the back door, he noticed light from the dining room, where there shouldn’t be any since it was well past five. Frowning, he swung the door open and stepped inside. Actually, the light was from the kitchen door at the back of the dining room. He frowned harder. No one was supposed to be in the kitchen at this time of night. He wondered briefly if some of his frat-boy guests had decided to come down for an evening snack.
    He approached the door carefully and peeked in the window at the top.
    Lizzy Apodaca stood at one of the prep tables, slicing onions with precision and grace. There were several bowls on the table around her, already full of vegetables. Just on a hunch, he’d bet they were for