“Yes, I’d love to hire you, if you are willing to move to Florida. And I’d like you to start as soon as possible. How about February first?” she asked with a smile.
I thought for a moment before I returned eye contact. “I guess it’s lucky that I just got out of a very nasty breakup with my ex-fiancé. He dumped me Christmas Eve.” I deliberately emphasized the he part. We were still in the south, and I wanted to be out of the closet before I made a huge life change.
“Well, he,” she emphasized the word too. “Sounds like a total idiot. What man in his right mind would dump a catch like you?”
“An idiot for sure. Let’s go with that.”
She laughed, then glanced at her watch. “So, what’s it going to be? Wanna throw caution to the wind and come work for me?”
“Sure, it sounds like exactly what I need right now. But I’ll need a place to live.”
“Not a problem. We have a corporate rental that just became empty. The rent’s paid up until March. You can either take the lease yourself, or I can help you find someplace else. The best part is the apartment is just a couple blocks from the paper, so you’ll be close by while getting your bearings.”
Just then, they called for her plane. “Oh, crap! I still have to go through security. I’m so excited, Martin,” she said as she grabbed her carry-on bag and scurried toward security check-in. “I’ll ring you tomorrow to set up all the details, OK?” she asked, not waiting for an answer as she disappeared around the corner.
I waved at her retreating form. Had I actually just taken a job in Fort Lauderdale? What was my family going to say? What the heck was Janice going to say? Would Peter notice or even care?
No, scrap that last thought. It didn’t matter if he cared or not. I was setting myself up for a new and much-improved life. Peter was not going to be a part of that.
__________
When I gave my two weeks’ notice, my boss told me she was going to go commit violent acts against her friend for stealing me away from her. Then she admitted she sort of set it up.
“You’re wasting your talent here on such a small paper. We’ll miss you but I think it’s the right move for your professional development and on a personal note, I’m really proud of you for taking the opportunity.” At that I had to swallow the lump in my throat, I was touched actually that she’d put me before the requirements of the paper.
My parents were beside themselves with concern. “You’re too vulnerable right now to make this kind of decision,” my mother moaned.
I hugged her. “Mom, I love you so much, but even you’ve said some of the best decisions we make are during life’s ups and downs.”
Trish acted like she was glad I was going to be out of her hair, but I could tell she was feeling bad about me leaving. All in all, everything about pulling up stakes was pretty easy, except for leaving my family and best friend, Janice.
Janice took me out on the town for a final hoorah, and we both got drunk and cried on each other’s shoulders. It was emotional healing at it’s best. “You’ll come visit me when you need sunshine and beachfront,” I kept telling her. She’d high five me everytime and say “Damn straight.”
I’d only had a few belongings I wanted or needed. I had those shipped to the new office. It was a strange feeling looking around my family home that I wouldn’t be able to come back to without a long drive or a flight. I had a both a heavy heart but also a sense of nervous excitement, knowing this was a big moment for me. A new start.
I went out to eat that morning at my favorite brunch restaurant, although I admit, I did make sure Peter wasn’t there before I went inside.
I’d decided to go to the airport, alone. I needed to do this by myself so I could say goodbye to my hometown of Austin. It was also a goodbye to all the pain I’d felt over the breakup with Peter.
As I leaned back in my seat, the plane prepared for takeoff, and I felt a sense of relief about moving on with my future. A goodbye to my old life and a hello to the new.
Martin
When we arrived in the conference room, the attorney was waiting for us. Kristine and I walked in feeling cool and confident.
The meeting was between the newspaper’s attorney and a disgruntled restaurant and brewery owner, who’d gotten a negative review because, well to put it mildly, his restaurant’s service sucked.
When I told Janice, she sent me a GIF with three sassy gay guys walking into a bar. They’d stop and pose before sashaying into the room over and over again. I showed Kristine, and before we left the office, we practiced walking into the meeting with that as our guide. It was a great morale booster, to know she was fast becoming a friend as well as being my boss.
Upon seeing the attorney, Kristine immediately introduced us. “Chris, this is Martin, the one who wrote the review. Martin, our attorney Chris. So, what’s the prognosis?” Kristine asked.
The attorney sighed. “You’ve been with the paper for two years now, and you’ve not had anyone come after you before. That being said, your review was tough on them, but it wasn’t horrible. As long as you can justify it, even if it goes to court, you should be fine.”
“It’s so frustrating. I wrote that review in such a way that if the restaurant owners and management wanted, they could improve, and I’d be able to visit again at a future date. Do they know that Kristine was with me for the review?” I asked.
“No,” the attorney said, “and we need to keep that just between us for now. If we can’t resolve this here, that information may be useful in the future.”
When we’d first gotten word that we were being sued for the review, Chris had warned Kristine that this particular owner was well known for playing games to discredit reviewers. A similar incident had occurred a year or so ago.
When the door opened, a short and pudgy, red-faced man, who was introduced by Chris as Mr. Peady, the owner, came in with his attorney. A few moments later, another man, this one significantly more attractive, came in behind them.
“Hi, I’m Elian Whitman,” he said after shaking our hands in a firm and confident grip and sitting across the table from us.
The two men were followed by a woman who appeared to be in her early sixties and introduced herself as the moderator. When both attorneys indicated they were ready to begin, we launched right in.
“This is a situation where a young upstart just wants to get his name in print, and we won’t have it,” the obviously passionate owner declared. “He can’t be allowed to build his name by damaging our restaurant’s stellar reputation. These lies will not be tolerated!” As he said that last part, he banged his hand on the table to emphasize his words and stared me directly in the face.
Kristine and I glanced at each other, even though we’d anticipated this, the speech was ridiculous and although we were determined to remain professional, it was hard to sit here and not roll our eyes. The owner’s partner, Elian, seemed to be watching us closely throughout the proceedings. It was my guess his job was to read the environment, then help his partner with any observations. It continued to get more difficult to keep my feelings hidden as the irate man spouted off. To be honest, I’d never been good at schooling my emotions anyway. I knew this guy, Elian, could probably read me like a book.
When the red-faced man had finished his tirade, Elian asked if the moderator would allow the attorneys and our party a chance to talk before we continued.
The moderator hesitated before speaking. “That is something that should have already been done prior to the meeting.”
“Yes,” Elian agreed. “I understand, but I just got back into town and haven’t been available before now.”
The mediator shook her head and stood to leave. “You have fifteen minutes, then I’ll return. And we will either continue, or this mediation will be concluded. Understood?”
Elian nodded.
As soon as she left, Elian turned toward his partner. “Did you speak to our employees about the review?”
The owner must’ve fe
lt trapped because his already red face deepened to a shade of purple. He responded with a huff, “Of course I did.”
“What did they say?” Elian asked.
“They said it was a lie. They didn’t even remember who he was.”
Elian then turned to me. “Can you tell me exactly what you experienced?”
Both attorneys tried to stop the dialogue with little success. Elian turned to his representative. “It is the responsibility of all of us to resolve this dispute in an equitable way.” He then turned to our attorney. “If I’m comfortable with the reviewer’s explanation, I’ll be willing to drop the charges.”
His co-owner sputtered, and seemed like he might explode right in front of us. When he tried to speak, however, the younger man put his hand up to stop him. Turning to me, he asked again, “Will you explain exactly what you found when you visited the restaurant?”
“The review pretty much explained it,” I answered honestly, “but I’d be happy to go back over the details.” I’d learned long ago to document events well, especially if my reviews reflected negatively. I opened my notebook, quickly going over my notes, then recounted the events as they’d occurred.
“Ultimately, it was an overall poor service all night,” I informed him. “But, Mr. Whitman, a lot of that could’ve been forgiven if the wait staff hadn’t been intentionally rude.”
Elian listened then turned to our attorney. “I would like a moment to speak to my partner and attorney alone if you don’t mind.” Then he stood up and left the room, leaving the two other men with no choice but to follow.
Kristine and I sat silently for a moment, just absorbing what had happened before Kristine finally whispered to our attorney, “What’s this all about Chris?”
Chris just shrugged. “Not sure. It’s not the older guy’s M.O. Usually, they just demand the review be taken down and a public apology issued.”
“Yeah, we already said we won’t be doing that,” Kristine cut in quickly.
“Of course, but we never got to that point. This could all just be a ploy. Stay vigilant,” the attorney said as the door began to open.
Elian and their attorney came into the room …without Mr. Peady.
“I have a deal for you,” Elian said, a hint of his delicious Cuban accent suddenly making itself apparent. How did I not notice that before? “I will personally write a letter to you and your paper, apologizing for the bad service you received. You will publish my letter after you approve its contents, of course, along with another review of the restaurant for which I will not prepare my staff. My partner has just informed me he plans to sell out, so you should be able to get your review anonymously. I only request that you give me at least four weeks to make the necessary changes to the restaurant before you return.”
Kristine looked at our attorney and when he nodded, she turned to Elian and accepted his offer.
As we rode back to the office, Kristine said, “You totally plan to go back before they expect you, right?”
“Of course,” I nodded. “I also plan to find out what the guy’s schedule is and show up when he isn’t there.”
“Good boy,” Kristine replied. “It’s probably best that I don’t go with you this time since they’ll coach the wait staff to be on the lookout for both you and I. Do you have a date you can take with you?”
“I can find one, I’m sure,” I said, and we chuckled at our scheming.
“I’ll tell you what, of all the things we do at the paper, this is the most entertaining.” She confided, a grin still on her face.
“Speaking of entertaining,” I replied. “Did you catch the physique of that Cuban hunk?”
Kristine smirked at me. “I’m still breathing, aren’t I? If he wasn’t in the middle of a lawsuit against us, I’d have been laying on the flirtations heavily,” she added.
“I doubt it would’ve done you much good,” I replied.
Kristine hit me on the arm. “I want you to know, I can woo a man as well as any other woman.”
I laughed. “I don’t doubt that for one-minute, Kristine, but I seriously doubt you, or any woman for that matter, could woo that one. I’m almost sure he plays for my team.”
Kristine stared at me for a moment. You could tell she was thinking about how the meeting had gone and the interactions with Elian. Then, she slapped her knee in frustration. “Damn, I think you’re right. Damn, damn, damn. You’d think growing up in Miami, I’d have better gaydar.” She sighed. “It sucks that the most beautiful men are gay. It just sucks, Martin.”
“Ah, but do you have any idea how many gay men want to date a straight guy? It seems nobody is ever satisfied with what they’ve got.” We both laughed and agreed that it was painfully true.
My friend Logan, who I’d met at a newspaper function, agreed to be my pretend date. He and I went back to the restaurant slash brewery for another visit just three weeks after the meeting.
Logan and I had been on a couple of dates but soon figured out we were not compatible, so we’d decided to be friends instead. What Logan did like about me, though, was going on dates to restaurants around the city and sampling the food and giving his opinions about it.
I had done my own P.I. work on Elian to see when he usually left work. There was no set schedule, and the man seemed to work long hours because he was almost always at the restaurant during lunch and supper opening hours.
On the few days I’d watched him, Elian never left before seven and often not until close. During those nights of surveillance, I felt maybe he took his job a bit too seriously. I also thought more than once, I was becoming a bit of a stalker and I was hardly paparazzi material.
Oh well, I excused my behavior as this was personal since his partner had pulled me into a lawsuit instead of dealing with his staff. I’d warned Logan that we’d have to meet early and wait for the big man to leave.
At six, we were still sitting in my car in a strategic place I’d found across the street. It allowed me the perfect view without being noticed. Luckily, my buddy was a gamer and didn’t seem to notice we were sitting for so long in the car as he played with his phone. Fortunately, Elian left a little after seven.
As we walked in, I was struck by several key changes that had taken place. First, the host station had been moved to the far side where they could still interact with the customers but so it didn’t block the view of the brewery’s huge machinery, giving the place a nice, industrial feel. I’d had no beef with the décor, however. Although this and other subtle changes certainly helped, it was the staff and to some extent the food, that I was here to reevaluate.
The restaurant was still bustling, and there was a short wait. Despite the crowd, one of the three hostesses greeted us with a welcoming smile and chipper personality as we walked in the door. She efficiently informed us of a short wait for a table and starting the pretense that we were on a date rather than here to write a review, Logan made the reservation in his name. Just as she’d said, we were escorted to a spotless booth five minutes later. I smiled, and in my head, I logged the second point in their favor.
Within seconds, a male server arrived at our table, smiled, and introduced himself then took our drink orders. He returned just a moment later with them. So far, I was impressed. Even when I told him we’d changed our minds and wanted a different drink each, he wasn’t frustrated by it. Again, he returned promptly with fresh drinks and also removed the half empty glasses we’d been drinking without complaint and confirming they wouldn’t be on the bill.
I’d been online, picking out what I wanted us both to order and had prepped Logan, asking him to be picky but realistic.
Despite the fact that he asked for several changes to the meal he ordered, the server didn’t miss a beat and never stopped smiling. At one point, he even suggested a better accompaniment to our dishes. Point number three in their favor, I noted in my head.
The food arrived exactly as we’d ordered it, all well-cooked and still hot. After we started eating, I called the serve
r back and asked about an appetizer we hadn’t ordered that I claimed still hadn’t arrived because I wanted to see how the server managed a customer who was lying. I found myself genuinely impressed. “I’m so sorry. I will have the kitchen put a rush on that,” the server said and quickly placed the new order with the kitchen instead of arguing with me via the computer. Either I wasn’t as inconspicuous as I thought, or they had implemented some significant improvements.
I watched the customers and compared the service they were receiving to ours. As luck would have it, a couple seated just a few tables away changed their order three times, but the female server was exceedingly accommodating and even got the customer to laugh as she waited patiently for the order to be completed. When the couples’ meals arrived, the young woman found a fault with something. Without complaint, the server whisked it back to the kitchen and five minutes later, the food came back cooked to the customer’s satisfaction.
I smiled at Logan. “It’s clearly not just us. They seem to have really turned things around.”
Unfortunately, Logan had lost interest and was searching the dining room for what I assumed was pretty men. His conversation had changed from food to a critique of the different dating potentials. I laughed and told him how thankful I was that he’d helped me out tonight.
“Can I see your manager?” I asked the server when he returned with the credit card receipt. For the first time this evening, frustration crossed the server's face before he could conceal it.
“Yes, of course,” he said and walked briskly toward the front of the restaurant.
Within seconds, the manager arrived at the table. “May I help you, sir?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “I was here a few weeks ago, and the service was awful. I swore I wouldn’t return, but I decided to give you another chance, and I’m glad I did. Not only was my service impeccable, but I noticed the service to other customers was as well.”
The manager, clearly surprised to have a positive review, went from shock to pride. “Thank you, sir. The owner recently returned from out of town and made a lot of changes. It’s rather encouraging to hear they have made enough of a difference that you would notice.”
Love By Chance (Chance Series Book 1) Page 2