Read Love in the Morning for Free Online Page A

the omelets, but he supposed they could be for the salads.
    Clark frowned. He hadn’t thought about the sandwiches and salads. Were they as uninspired as the breakfasts? They didn’t sell as many of them, but most visitors went out to eat in the evening, didn’t they?
    For the first time he wondered if the quality of the sandwiches and salads had anything to do with their modest sales.
    Terrific. He really didn’t want to be worrying about this stuff. Food service was way out of his comfort zone. That was why he’d hired Clarice in the first place, so that she could take care of all these problems and he could run his hotel in peace.
    Lizzy Apodaca looked up suddenly, maybe aware of someone staring at her. Clark opened the door, feeling slightly embarrassed. I’m not a Peeping Tom, lady, honest. “Hi. Working late?”
    She frowned slightly, and he had to admit it wasn’t one of his better opening lines. Lines? Since when are you giving the kitchen help lines?
    â€œI usually get the prep work done for tomorrow before I knock off. It beats coming in at four.”
    â€œIn the morning?” he blurted.
    The corners of her lips edged up. This seemed to be his day for idiotic statements.
    â€œClarice starts baking around four thirty. I come in at five and get the meat and potatoes going. And the oatmeal.”
    Oatmeal. He’d forgotten that they even served oatmeal. Not surprising since he never touched the stuff. “What about juice and fruit?” Surely they served something healthy.
    She shrugged. “Actually, I just finished cutting up the melon a few minutes ago. I’ll put the berries in bowls tomorrow morning.”
    He frowned. Was there anything she didn’t cook? “What about the juice?”
    â€œWe have a juice dispenser in the dining room. I fill it before we start serving. Then Desi empties out any juice that’s left and cleans it after we stop serving.” She didn’t seem particularly annoyed by his interest, unlike Clarice.
    He leaned back against the counter again. “Any ideas about how we could maybe change things up a little around here?”
    It might have been the dim light, but he could swear she blushed. The flush of color across her cheeks seemed to draw attention to the dark obsidian of her eyes. Until she looked away from him again. “That’s not really my area.”
    He frowned again. “What isn’t?”
    â€œPlanning the menu. That’s up to Clarice.” She gathered the pile of chopped onion and dropped it into one of the stainless steel bowls on the tabletop.
    â€œWhy is that?” Although he was pretty sure he knew the answer.
    â€œClarice is the chef,” she said slowly. “You don’t undermine the chef. It’s not…” She paused for a moment. “It’s not good form.”
    He nodded. “I understand that. Hierarchies matter. But this is my hotel. And I want to put out a good breakfast. Not just an edible breakfast.”
    She raised her head again, and this time her obsidian eyes were flashing. “Our breakfast is more than edible. It’s tasty and it’s filling. Which is what your guests are looking for.”
    For a moment he was distracted by those eyes, that dark wave of hair, and those very nice, slightly bee-stung lips. Then he shook it off. “Glad to hear it. Now if we could just get a breakfast that I could brag about, we could all be happy.”
    â€œI’m already happy, Mr. Denham. But I’ll see what I can do.” Her lips moved up into a faint smile. Then she picked up another onion.
    Clark started to turn back toward the door. His cue to exit. “Good night, Ms. Apodaca.”
    â€œGood night, Mr. Denham.” She didn’t look up.
    He headed down the hall again. Time to head for the back door and then the Blarney Stone. But all the way there he found himself thinking of Lizzy Apodaca. And what it was that might