Nikki Turner moved around the small kitchen in the diner with ease, the space familiar and cozy. She glanced up as the bell rang again, wondering where in the world Gus was going to put all these customers. She noticed a family bustling by the diner in their winter gear, and she mourned the fact that she’d be working long past the time when the sun would set. Shame, too, when it was shining so brightly, a welcome sight after the gloomy winter they’d been having in Lakeside.

      The scent of spaghetti drew her gaze from the front windows, reminding her that the orders were still piled up.

      Nikki enjoyed her time in the diner, making sandwiches, slinging pie for the couples celebrating Valentine’s Day a few weeks early, and ladling chili into bowls. In fact, she couldn’t think of anything else she’d rather be doing.

      Every seat in Gus’s Kitchen had been occupied for hours, and that bell kept ringing like there was room for more. Nikki smiled as a couple who’d come in to Gus’s every week for the past year greeted the restaurant’s namesake and started speaking with him.

      A rush of affection for the white-haired man slowed Nikki down for about two seconds. Then she put together the Kitchen’s signature sandwich: pastrami and turkey with tomatoes, olives, and a special spread she’d developed over the course of six months and a lot of feedback from Gus’s regulars. She grinned at the sandwich like they were old friends before setting it in the window for pickup.

      She garnished her signature, secret-recipe chili with a healthy dollop of sour cream and a generous sprinkling of chopped scallions. She wanted to sneak a tortilla chip, but just because she hadn’t been to culinary school didn’t mean she didn’t take herself seriously as a cook. She’d been working in a commercial kitchen for years, and a pro would never snack while on the job.

      She put up the bowl of chili as a rousing cheer for Gus rose into the rafters. A thread of sadness pulled through her as she thought about going home tonight and not coming back to this diner where she’d worked for a year and a half. She kept the smile on her face, though, as she grabbed the next ticket from the old-school holder.

      Nikki managed to chase away her worries by working as quickly as she could, getting the food out to the customers without delay, and trading quips with Angela. The waitress had become Nikki’s best friend when Nikki had started at Gus’s eighteen months ago, and they’d moved in together very soon after that. Angela was fun, sarcastic, and the perfect roommate for Nikki and all her quirks. And soon, they’d both be out of a job.

      At least Angela had already found something else to pay the bills. Nikki, however, was having a much harder time getting something that aligned her career goals, her passion for food, and her absent degree.

      Someone waved for her to come out of the kitchen, and she went to congratulate Gus while the crowd was still thick. Angela hugged him in front of the huge, multicolored Farewell Gus! banner, and then Nikki embraced him. He reminded her so much of her own grandfather, from the wispy white hair right down to the smell of clean and crisp dryer sheets. She wished this restaurant wasn’t closing—wished she’d been able to bring it to a different ending.

      But she refused to let any of her sadness show and stepped back into the kitchen. She felt most at home here, and her melancholy lifted like the steam off the huge pot of chili to her right.

      By the time the restaurant closed, Nikki’s pinky toe pinched in her shoes, and her back ached for a healthy dose of ibuprofen. Angela stood at the bar, putting glasses into a bin, and Nikki exhaled heavily as she sat across from her best friend.

      “Has to have been our busiest day ever.” She put her coat on the stool next to her and glanced over to a busboy saying his final goodbye to Gus.

      Angela leaned on the counter. “It certainly was our best tip day ever!” She tossed a napkin into the bin beside her.

      “Well, get used to it, Ang. You’re gonna be making a lot of tips at a place like Holly Hanson’s.” Though exhaustion nearly consumed her, the smile wouldn’t leave Nikki’s face. So this chapter was closing. She felt certain a new one would open for her the same way Ang had found a job at Holly Hanson’s, the premier restaurant in the city.

      Nikki had entertained the idea of applying at Holly Hanson’s for about point-four seconds. But they had real chefs with tall white hats and pieces of paper testifying to their skill with a knife, spices, and flavor combinations.

      “It’s definitely a perk,” Angela said. “But I am going to miss working with you, though.”

      “And I’m going to miss working.” Nikki tucked her reddish-brown hair behind