The day after Emily turned in her application and John told me he’d checked her references and was offering her the job, I hadn’t been idiotic enough to pray then, but I’d hoped she’d turn it down. Guess how that turned out?
She accepted the job yesterday.
Nothing I said to her made a difference. Not one bloody thing.
She starts tomorrow. On Friday of all days. I tried to convince John to start her training next week, on one of the slower days. But he insisted we need to take advantage of Dani being here the rest of the week to help with the training because after Saturday, she’ll be gone.
Don’t worry, Gray, with her waitressing experience, she’ll be up to speed in no time.
Waitressing experience my arse. The woman John had spoken to was probably someone her parents knows, willing to lie to help get Emily a job. That’s the way people like that do business. Blackmail, bribe and then call in favors. It’s all in a day’s work.
“Hey, Graham, do you need a cash drop?” Sybil, Zenith’s hostess, asks. In her mid to late thirties, Sybil’s been working here almost since the place opened seven years ago. She’s pretty, brown-eyed and dark-haired and I’ve never seen her shapely body in anything but a form fitting dress. I get the feeling John has a thing for her but as far as I know they’ve never dated and from what I’ve seen in their interactions, things appear to be strictly business.
When the dining room is slow, she helps out around the bar, sometimes acting as a server when we’re getting slammed. Tonight, more people are drinking than eating, not counting those ordering appetizers in the bar area, so she has a little time on her hands.
“Check with Jason.” I tip my chin toward the other end of the bar where Zenith’s full-time bartender is serving drinks.
She comes behind the bar, patting my upper arm affectionately as she passes on her way to Jason. The scent of the perfume my mother wears trails in her wake, a scent that’s light, slightly sweet and inoffensive.
I’m not playing bartender right now, and with Sam, our part-time guy coming in later, I probably won’t have to for the night. My job right now is to make sure everything back here is in order and then I’ll check in with the kitchen staff. After that, it’s off to my office to take care of paperwork and work on next week’s schedule. My goal there is clear: work with Emily as little as humanly possible.
With Labor Day only days away, the past week has seen the college crowd returning like birds migrating back from the south. Meaning the summer respite is over and in a few hours this place is going to be packed to the gills. John says business picks up here on in.
I make a cursory look around the bar before slipping into the kitchen, where our head cook Maria’s only request is that I put in an express order for the special dressing she needs for her famous salmon dish. She needs it by tomorrow. I add the task to the top of my mental to-do list as I push through the swing doors leading back out to the bar.
My movements grind to a halt as if I’ve met with a brick wall. My feet freeze in place. My eyes become riveted.
Emily is standing right in front of me.
Hair up in a neat ponytail and wearing a server’s uniform of black and white, she looks ready to work. Some guys might think she looks sexy and hot because of the way her white button down emphasizes her boobs. I don’t. Her shirt looks like it’s been ironed to within an inch of its cotton-loving life. And I’m not one of those guys who obsesses over a woman’s butt so the rounded curve of hers in those dark slacks do nothing for me.
You know what? Fuck you. So she’s attractive. There’s nothing new about that. She knows it as well as anyone who has eyes. Lucky for her too, because it’s the only thing she has going for her.
“What are you doing here?”
Her brow furrows at the question and uncertainty enters her eyes. “Working.”
I shake my head, a definitive Hell no. “You’re not scheduled to start training until tomorrow.”
“No, John said I start training today. It’s in the email he sent me with this week and next week’s schedule.”
Next week’s schedule?
Jesus fucking Christ, John! What the hell are you doing to me?
“Give me a minute,” I say as I brush by her and stomp to the office I share with Ian, the other assistant manager.
If I thought she’d stay put, I was wrong. She trails behind me down the narrow hall. “Is John here?”
Annoyed, I snap, “If he were, do you think we’d be having this conversation?”
Chapter 9
Bite my head off, why don’t you?
I can see my training is off to a great start. I’m doomed if this is how he’s going to be to work with. It’s not my fault the left hand doesn’t know what the right hand is doing. John told me training starts today. I’m not mistaken about that no matter what Graham thinks or how much he growls.
“Wait here,” he says gruffly, disappearing into the room on the right.
I heed his order like a military recruit would its commander. Music, laughter and chatter drift down the empty hall, coalescing around me in the sounds of revelry. The offices here are tucked away from the main bar and restrooms. When I’d come in two days ago to fill out the rest of the paperwork, John told me nobody but him and his two assistant managers usually come back here.
Through the partially open door, I can hear Graham speaking, his voice all brisk irritation. No doubt he’s talking to John. I can’t make out what he’s saying but I can just imagine.
John, what the hell is she doing here? I thought she wasn’t supposed to start until tomorrow. Why don’t I just fire her now?
No, you can’t, Bub. I already notified the library that I won’t be coming back, and I’ve come dressed and ready to work, so that’s what I intend to do no matter how much my surly ex objects.
Bright light from the office suddenly floods the dimly lit hallway. Framed in the open doorway, Graham stares back at me. His grim, tight-lipped expression does nothing to hide his aggravation.
“John said he made a mistake.”
Graham must have correctly read my what-does-that-mean look because he adds, “You’re working today.”
Whew. “Then I was right.” I’d have hated to waste the day stressing out over the thought of having to see him when I could easily have saved all that stressing for tomorrow.
The slight inclination of his head can barely count as a nod. It’s as if he loathes to agree with me about anything much less this.
“Is there somewhere I can put my purse?” I ask, slipping it from my shoulder and holding the leather strap in my hand. John had mentioned something about assigned lockers in his email.
After a pause, Graham holds out his hand. “Give it to me. I’ll lock it in the cabinet in here until Dani leaves. You can have her locker when she’s gone. None of the empty lockers have a lock and a key.”
I readily relinquish my purse to him, surprised at his offer to keep it in his office.
I wait at the edge of the doorway as he locks it away in the bottom drawer of his desk. He straightens and pockets a ring of keys in the front pocket of his slacks.
“C’mon, I’ll introduce you to everyone, then you can shadow Dani. You’ll be taking over for her,” he says, exiting the office.
I take a few steps back, too aware of how tall and broad he is, and how close we’re now standing to each other.
The back of my heel bumps up against the other wall. Wow, this hall really is narrow.
He speaks without making direct eye contact, his gaze closer to my left ear—or neck. “After you’re finished training, you’ll get your own keys to the cash drawer. There’s no punch clock. Everyone’s signs in and out by initialing the schedule. You’re expected to be on the floor on time. Restaurant tips are split with the kitchen staff and drink tips are split with the bartenders.”
John must trust his employees. I’ve had to punch in and out at every job I’ve ever had.
Graham takes the lead a
nd I follow him back out to the bar. In the short time we were gone, the place has filled up. The line for the bartender isn’t bad, though. Only three people waiting in line for drinks but half the tables are now occupied.
Graham catches the eye of a girl with medium-length dirty-blonde hair and motions her in our direction. As she approaches, a smile on her pretty face, I feel as conspicuous as a new student standing at the teacher’s side being introduced to her classmates for the first time. But in my case, my teacher can’t stand me and my only hope of avoiding a horrible school year lies with the kindness of strangers.
He’s quick with the introductions. “Dani, I’d like you to meet your replacement, Emily. Emily this is Dani.”
Genuinely happy to see a friendly face, I shake the soon-to-be ex-Zenith’s employee’s proffered hand, my enthusiastic greeting accompanied by a warm smile.
Addressing Dani again, he says, “Change in plans. You’re going to start training Emily tonight instead of tomorrow. If things are going good after a couple hours, feel free to give her her own section, alright?”
Dani nods. “Sounds good. Do you want me to introduce her around or are you doing that?”
“No, you get back to your tables. I’ll finish the introductions.”
“Okay.” Smiling at me, she says, “I’ll see you in a bit.”
The words are barely out of her mouth when Graham is moving, striding off, clearly expecting me to follow. I quicken my pace to keep up with him.
He introduces me to the rest of the staff. Everyone is super friendly. Seven people—four men and three women—comprise the kitchen staff. The head cook, Maria, ran a restaurant in Cuba with her husband and immigrated to the States three years ago.
Jason, the bartender, has been working at Zenith’s for three years. He’s young—Graham’s age if I had to guess—and cute if you if you like freckle-faced gingers. He reminds me of the guy from “Some Kind of Wonderful,” one of my mom’s favorite movies. She forced me to watch it with her once. It was pretty good for a movie from the ’80s.
Three women and two guys make up the rest of the wait staff. Everyone is pretty young. I’m not sure if Joe and Milton are hitting on me or if they tease and flirt with the other girls like they do with me. Time will tell. And I can tell Sandra, probably the oldest of the bunch, has a thing for Graham. She’s not exactly subtle about it, the way she smiles and bats her eyelashes at him. I wonder if he’s figured it out.
By the time the introductions are over, the place is packed. The line at the bar is three times longer than the last time I looked.
Furrowing his brow, Graham glances at his watch and then turns to me. “Go find Dani,” he instructs tersely. “I’ll be helping out behind the bar.”
To a stranger watching us, no one would guess that we’d once dated much less spent an entire day in bed. Naked.
I shake off the sudden blast of memory and leave to go in search of Dani. I find her in her section at a boisterous table of eight taking orders.
At my appearance at her side, a smile lights Dani’s face. “Ready to start?”
I nod. Here goes the rest of my night.
My first night of training was pretty good, although the arches in my feet could make a sound argument to the contrary. Waitressing is like riding a bike. Once you learn, it’s impossible to unlearn and it doesn’t take me long to get back into the rhythm of things. By nine, I’d been manning a portion of Dani’s section like I’d been doing it for years.
I have to say the tips are a whole lot better than what I got at Mickey’s. The guys, though, are the same. I was asked out at least a half dozen times and hit on twice that.
But now, at two in the morning, the place is finally empty of customers. The kitchen staff is long gone since the kitchen closes at ten. Milton and Sandra left at eleven, and I’ve just spent the last twenty minutes learning how to close out the cash register.
Graham is somewhere in the back. I haven’t seen him since he came out and locked the doors at one-thirty. Other than that, he basically made himself scarce when Sam, the part-time bartender, arrived for his shift at eight. The thought of whether I had anything to do with his glaring absence crossed my mind more than a few times tonight.
“Sooooo, I heard Joe asked you out.” A mischievous smile plays along Dani’s lips as she slides the cover of the till in place and locks it. Credit card receipts and the rest of the cash is secure in the thick canvas bank bag I’m holding.
Wow, news sure travels fast around here, but like the game of Telephone, someone got the lines crossed. “Not on a date,” I correct her. “He said a group of you guys go bowling twice a month. He was just inviting me along.”
God, the last thing I want or need right now is for anyone to get the wrong idea about Joe’s innocent invitation. Which is not to say he’s not interested. Actually, I’m pretty sure he is. At least that’s the impression I got when he hung around after his shift was over to sit with me during my break. While he seems like a super nice guy and not bad looking, I’m simply not interested.
“Yeah, but that’s just his way,” Dani replies. “He’s interested and so is Milt. Don’t bother with Milt though, he has a girlfriend but you’ll never hear that from him. Total dog.” She shakes her head and rolls her eyes like a sister might when talking about a recalcitrant younger brother.
“Since I won’t be going out with either of them, none of this matters, right?”
Dani gives a slow nod, getting the gist of my meaning. “Right. I always thought it was a bad idea to get involved with people you work with because when things go south, can anyone say awkward?”
Yeah, kind of like working with your ex. Been there, doing that.
“But then you usually end up getting involved with guys you work or go to school with, am I right?”
“You’re right.” No disagreeing with her on that.
“Then I’ll give you a list of all the guys who are off limits.” She holds up her hand and begins ticking them off, one by one, on her fingers. “Milt, as I said. Ian, the other assistant manager, because he’s married with kids. John, because you can’t date the boss. Evan—you’ll meet him tomorrow—because he’s engaged. And then of course Graham has a girlfriend because the hottest guys are always taken when you meet them.”
Graham is taken. I assumed as much, but to have it confirmed causes a knot to form in the pit of my stomach. I hate that it bothers me.
“Dani, are you all done there?”
We start guiltily, turning toward the sound of his voice, so very British and proper, coming at us from the mouth of the hall.
Relief eases the sudden tension in my body once I realize he isn’t close enough to have heard our conversation. My gaze doesn’t leave him as he approaches. He, on the other hand, is looking at Dani, not me.
“Yes. I was just bringing everything to the back,” she replies.
“Give that to me and I’ll show Emily where it goes. She has to get her purse from my office anyway.”
Dani surrenders the cash drawer with a smile and a perky goodbye before heading off in the direction of the employees’ break room.
We make the trek to his office in silence, clarifying his message that conversation with me will be on a necessity basis.
In his office, he places the cash drawer on his desk. The last time I’d been in here, I hadn’t taken the time to really look around. This time I do, and can’t help but be surprised at how orderly everything is, especially given the fact it has two male occupants. The two desks, each situated in opposite corners of the room, are clutter-free, folders and papers tidily stacked on chrome trays, and pens and pencils neatly contained in matching cups. It’s a functional space, nothing fancy, and remarkably dust-free, an indication that someone is conscientious about keeping it that way.
The clearing of his throat draws my attention back to Graham.
“The cash drawers and the drop bags go in here on the nights John doesn’t close.” He motions to what at first s
ight I think is a miniature file cabinet, but upon closer inspection is actually a safe. Clever.
“The cash is deposited at the bank every morning before we open,” he continues. “Only John, Ian and I know the combination to the safe.”
I nod.
He extends his hand, palm up, and I stare blankly up at him. His gaze rests on the canvas bank bag in my hand.
“Oh. Right.” Then, not only do I sound breathless and unnerved, I treat the bag like it’s a hot potato, thrusting it at him.
If he finds my behavior odd, he doesn’t comment, storing the cash away in the safe while I watch at a distance. When he’s finished, I expect him to then give me my purse so we can both get out of here. But, as is becoming the norm, he does the unexpected, parking his rear on the corner of his desk and turning his full attention on me.
“What did you think of your first night?”
It’s because we’re the only ones in the room that I know he’s talking to me, otherwise I would have been looking over my shoulder to see if someone joined us while I wasn’t paying attention.
“Fine. I mean, everything was good. Everyone was nice.” Could I sound more like a ten-year-old?
His response is slow in coming, his gaze shuttered as he regards me. “I suggest you keep things strictly professional with Milt and Joe.”
I blink. “Excuse me?” My tone easily translates to, Did you just say what I think you did. After my conversation with Dani, this feels unreal. News does really travel fast around here.
His expression turns frosty. Well, frostier. “You heard me.”
I shake the stupor from my brain and take a measured breath. Stay calm. Don’t overreact, I instruct myself. He’s just being a jerk. “Not that I have an interest in either of them, but if I did, what I do in my personal life is really none of your business.” He’s the assistant manager not my father, and even he can’t tell me who I can date.
Graham stares at me, unblinking. “It becomes my business when it has a negative impact on job performance and the workplace. I’ve seen it happen time and time again.”
Forever With You Page 9