Control Your Tempura

CONTROL YOUR TEMPURA STREET FOOD COZIES, BOOK 5 GRETCHEN ALLEN SUMMER PRESCOTT BOOKS PUBLISHING Copyright 2023 Summer Prescott Books All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication nor any of the information herein may be quoted from, nor reproduced, in any form, including but not limited to: printing, scanning, photocopying, or any other printed, digital, or audio formats, without prior express written consent of the copyright holder. **This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional. To Nicki Kovacich Mech I couldn’t have done this one without you. CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Also by Gretchen Allen Author’s Note Contact Gretchen Allen CHAPTER 1 Billie Halifax held tight to the railing of the fishing boat as it bounced over the Gulf of Mexico. Since her arrival on Sea Glass Island, she had been out on the water multiple times, but this was her first time out on a fishing vessel. The ride thrilled her, but she worried about the contents of her stomach as they moved further out. “Are you alright, Miss Halifax?” Carl called to her from the other side of the deck. His dark hair was pulled back into a low ponytail at the base of his head and his slightly weathered, tanned skin gave him the appearance of a much older man. “You need to get comfortable calling me Billie,” she called back to him. “If you’re going to run a food truck for me, you ought to get used to that.” “Okay, I will repeat my question then.” Carl smiled. “Are you alright, Billie?” She nodded her head. “I’m fine, but I’m not quite used to being so far out.” Carl Kensington moved across the bow of the large fishing boat. “Are you feeling sick?” he asked. Billie shook her head. “Not yet, but I’m trying to be cautious since I’ve only been out on pleasure trips so far. This is a little different than what I’m used to.” “This is heaven to me,” Carl said, gazing over the water. “But that’s just because my dad was in the Navy. When we lived in Japan, we spent a lot of time on the water.” “Which is how you came to attend the culinary school, right?” Billie was still a little unsure of the details of her latest hire. All she knew was that he had come highly recommended by Alex Regent, the lawyer who handled her grandmother’s estate. He was the overseer of her business interests until she proved herself with the fleet of food trucks her grandmother had left to her. “That’s what got me into preparing sushi, yes,” Carl said. “My father loved the stuff, but he expected for me to go into the Navy just like he did, and my two older brothers did.” “That should have made him happy at least,” Billie said. She turned to him and shaded her eyes with her hand. “Your brothers joined up.” Carl smiled and shook his head. “Not quite,” he said sadly. “Right up until the day he passed, he reminded me that I broke family tradition.” “I’m sorry.” Billie reached out and touched his arm. “I have a complicated relationship with my own mother as well. It’s not easy, but, and I can say this because I have a good ten years on you, it does get better.” Carl nodded his head and turned his attention back to the water. Billie got the message that he was finished discussing the matter. Either way, she was happy he had arrived on the island the day before. He had already proven himself as an asset to her staff. Enid Greene, the manager of her bakery mousse truck, had joined them at the commissary kitchen, home base for the food trucks, expressing concern over an event she had scheduled for the evening. The fridge in her food truck had stopped working, ruining the prep work she had done that morning for the event. Right away, Asher Scanlan, co-owner of the commissary kitchen and the large festival grounds where it was headquartered, got to work replacing the fridge for her. Meanwhile, Billie had rolled up her sleeves and jumped in to help. The other trucks and their managers were busy serving regular customers out on the boardwalk and were unable to pitch in and help. Without an invitation, Carl had begun taking orders from Enid. In a span of three hours, the refrigerator had been removed and replaced with a new model and the cupcakes and prepared mousse had been remade. Billie glowed with pride when she witnessed a hearty handshake between Enid and Carl. Asher, of course, had winked at Billie when they shook hands. He was dead set on the idea of two of her food truck managers becoming a couple. “Everybody’s doing it,” he teased. “I think we must be about to our spot,” Carl cut into her thoughts. Billie noticed the boat engines slowing down. She watched as the experienced crew moved swiftly about. The captain, a large man in his sixties, directed the crew to release the fishing nets. Billie had met him a few days before through a mutual friend, the local police chief. She wasn’t entirely convinced that the captain and Chief Abernathy were not related, at least as cousins or something. Both men could be doppelgängers for each other, though Captain Jacob Stephens was a shorter, more stout man. The trip out on the fishing boat was born when Carl had asked about including local catch on his sushi menu. Billie admittedly knew very little about the preparation of sushi and was happy to leave it to the experts. She gladly arranged for the trip on the fishing vessel, and the captain was more than happy to comply, given the fact that