Another week began—harsh, as usual. Sales continued steadily, and the three-girl crew was holding it down like clockwork. Despite the bustle, the energy in the kitchen was buzzing—and it wasn't just from the deep fryer.
"I've noticed Cameroon's attitude toward you has changed all of a sudden," Carolyn said slyly as she handed an order slip to Brooke, raising an eyebrow like she was about to stir a fresh pot of tea.
"Me? …Really?" Brooke blinked, eyes rolling around her sockets like they were trying to escape the question. The sarcasm was subtle, but the girls caught it—and broke into a peal of knowing laughter.
Shelly, ever the composed one, cleared her throat with dramatic flair. "Ahem—so there is chemistry," she said, arms folded like a judge delivering a verdict.
"Girl… break it down for us," Shirley urged, her curiosity now bubbling louder than the soup on the stove.
"Oh," Brooke said with a little shrug, feigning confusion like she'd just been asked for her tax returns. "He's just… a friend."
She turned to face them, leaning casually against the fridge, eyes drifting to the white kitchen ceiling like it held some mystical answer she didn't want to say out loud.
"That doesn't explain anything," Carolyn jumped in, already settling into her drama-loving posture—arms crossed, foot tapping, eyes wide.
"Oh yeah," Brooke added sweetly, pulling out her innocent good-girl tone like it was a handbag she hadn't used in a while. She let out a sigh—long, loud, and dramatic, like she'd just escaped a love triangle on a soap opera. "We've just been talking a lot lately… you know. That's all."
"Really?" both girls chorused, then burst into laughter like backup singers hyping a bride.
Despite the laughter and camaraderie that bloomed in the kitchen, the trio turned into proper strangers once they stepped into the eatery's customer area. The rules were strict—no unnecessary chatter, no over-familiarity, and certainly no personal convos with clients or co-workers. The management called it professionalism. The girls just called it boring.
Still, rules were rules, and they played along… mostly.
"You seem kinda dull today. What's up?" came a voice from behind—soft, familiar, but laced with that careful curiosity.
Carolyn didn't even have to look. "Oh look, Romeo's come for his Juliet," she muttered between giggles when she realized it was Cameroon standing behind them.
Cameroon Reynolds—aka "office man"—was the mysterious staff member no one could fully explain. He had no clear title, yet he was everywhere, doing everything, but somehow above it all. Filing reports, managing schedules, and occasionally disappearing for hours—Cameroon was a walking HR riddle.
"Oh yeah, I'm good," Brooke replied with a sweet but slightly tired smile. "Just a little moodiness, that's all."
She casually took his hand, like it was the most natural thing in the world, and the two slipped out of the kitchen, low voices trailing behind them.
The second the door swung closed, the girls locked eyes.
"I knew it," Shelly whispered.
Carolyn gave one of her signature dramatic shrugs. "Who are we to judge? We just flip burgers and watch love stories unfold."