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stainless steel utility drawers behind the counter, unearthing a black three-ring binder and propping it open between them. “This is Hope House’s kitchen manual. There’s another copy in the back, by the pantry. It’s got separate sections for delivery guidelines, kitchen tasks and procedures, and step-by-step directions for breakfast, lunch, and dinner service, with house rules in the front of the book and all the health department regulations in the back.”
    Alex’s brows traveled up his forehead. “This has to be three hundred pages all told.”
    â€œWelcome to running a nonprofit. We have a lot of guidelines. I’ll walk you through most of the work today, but breakfast starts in”—she flipped her wrist to get a glimpse of her watch, and ugh, this was going to take an act of God wrapped up in a winning lottery ticket and sealed with a get out of jail free card. “Fifty-six minutes, so we’re going to need to go fast.”
    â€œNow you’re speaking my language.” His charming smile made its way back home in less than a breath, but Zoe met it with a frown.
    â€œRight, I forgot. You just want to get this over with.”
    Alex shrugged, following her down the main aisle in the dining room and mirroring her movements as she began to flip the chairs from their upside-down perches on the tabletops. “You’re not really surprised that I want to get back to Eight as soon as possible, are you? I mean, no offense, but if I had my heart set on doing community service, I’d volunteer of my own accord.”
    Well, at least his slick charisma came with a side order of no bullshit. Zoe shook her head. “I guess not. What’d you do to get yourself four full-time weeks of mandatory CS anyway? That’s a pretty long assignment.” In fact, it was the longest one she’d seen since she’d come back to Fairview.
    â€œI told you, it was stupid. I had a difference of opinion with a captain at another house.” He curled his palms over a pair of chairs, one-handing each of them to the time-scuffed floorboards with a clunk . The long, lean muscles in his forearms flexed and released as he repeated the process once, then twice, and Lord, she really needed to get out more. Or at the very least, dig up her DVD of Magic Mike for a good, long re-watch.
    â€œSounds like a little more than a difference of opinion,” Zoe said, her field-tested caution sensors thankfully dousing her libido with a giant bucket of ice cold don’t be stupid.
    â€œWell, obviously the department agrees with you, which is why I’m here.” Alex finished clearing the table next to hers, his no-bones-about-it shrug making an encore performance. “We were second on scene at an abandoned warehouse fire four days ago. Not far from here, actually.”
    Recognition tugged at her mind. “The old chemical place over on Roosevelt.” According to Tina, the place had been boarded up for at least a year.
    â€œYeah. Anyway, the captain over at Thirteen was being a dick about us searching ahead of the water lines.” He paused, inspecting the floor beneath his boots as he cleared his throat. “Uh, pardon my language.”
    Zoe huffed out a laugh, although the back of her neck heated upon its exit. She wasn’t in middle school, for God’s sake. “I’m familiar with the word dick , Alex.”
    â€œRight. Of course. So Captain McManus told us we didn’t need to sweep the warehouse, but I thought it was a bad call. He and I got into it and I went in anyway, and I guess the rest is history.”
    Hold on . . . “So you ignored a direct order from a captain in an already dangerous situation.” Jesus, that took brass.
    Alex’s shoulders became a rigid line beneath the thin layer of his T-shirt, but he didn’t stop flipping the dining room chairs into place. “It wasn’t that big a deal. McManus just blew