Running Home to You (The Running Series)

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Running Home to You (The Running Series) Page 7

by Sweeney, Suzanne


  “I don’t understand, either. How did this happen, Reese? It’s just a burger. You weren’t here to cook it and apparently you weren’t here to plate it, either. What’s going on?” I demand.

  “No big deal. We’ll make him a new one. It’s just Auggie, right?” she dismisses my concerns. She walks away from me and begins preparing a new burger. At least it looks like she’s going to cook this one.

  I slip out of the kitchen and go find Marcus. I pull him into my office and close the door. I have a small office in the back of the bar. It’s got room enough for the essentials – a desk with a computer, a chair, and a small couch. I take a seat behind the desk and Marcus makes himself comfortable in the small leather chair.

  “Tell me, Marcus, how did the tasting go yesterday?” I question him.

  “Well, one thing I know for sure is that Natalie is a rock star. Everything she put out was top-notch. Since this is a dessert bar, that’s a pretty big deal. You really lucked out when you found her. She’s got a great assistant in there with her.” Marcus seems genuinely pleased with Natalie and I’m glad.

  “What about the food? How did Reese do?” That’s what I’m the most concerned about right now.

  “To be honest, once everything came out, it was really great. We wound up having all the desserts first because Reese couldn’t coordinate everything coming out of the kitchen. I had to go back there to help expedite. I’ve never worked in a restaurant before, Jette, so I don’t know how helpful I was,” he explains.

  “I knew Reese could cook, she was at the top of our class. Skill and knowledge was never her problem. I guess having little practical experience on the line is starting to show her weaknesses. She definitely needs to work on her leadership skills,” I speculate.

  “I think you’re right, Jette,” Marcus agrees. “She needs someone in there with her that can lead and help. I just don’t think she’s ready yet. We’re opening with a condensed menu, and she’s only got three items on there right now. We need to find someone to help her by the time you’re ready to launch your full menu.”

  “We open tomorrow on Memorial Day. After that, we’re only open three days a week throughout the month of June. By the Fourth of July, I want a full menu and that means we need to find someone that can work in there with her.” I give Marcus one final instruction, “Keep your eyes and ears open for me, okay?”

  “Will do, boss lady.” Marcus gets up to leave, then turns and adds a final thought. “How would you feel if I found a military veteran with culinary experience? I know there are a lot of unemployed vets out there looking for a job. Mind if I make a few phone calls?”

  “Mind? That sounds beyond awesome, Marcus.”

  Marcus gets back to his job, checking up on the front of house staff and I return to check in on our only guests today, Auggie and Lucas, just as they are about to begin on their desserts. “So gentlemen, tell me the truth. How was everything today?”

  Auggie jumps in without hesitation, “Everything was absolutely delicious, Jette. The drinks, the desserts, even my hamburger was out of this world.”

  I challenge him on the hamburger remark. “Auggie, I know you sent the burger back. Can’t you at least be honest with me?”

  “It’s true, I did send it back,” he admits. “But the refire was out of this world. It was great, really. It may have been just a burger, but it was elevated to a whole new level of taste.”

  I look at him from the corner of my eyes warning him, “You better not be bullshitting me, Aug. Was it really worth it?”

  “Listen, Reese can cook, that’s for sure. It really was good. She’s just got to keep a closer eye on what goes on back there,” he assures me. “Jette, my Pet, wait and see. Everyone is going to fall in love with this place. I sure did.”

  “Did you enjoy your visit today, too, Lucas? How was everything?” I ask.

  “Loved it! The food, the drinks, the scenery,” he looks around the room scanning for the young attractive male employees. “Can’t wait to come back.”

  Chapter Five

  Shape Up or Ship Out

  Auggie and Lucas drop me off at home. Evan’s still out with Adam, so I send him a quick text message just to touch base.

  Jette: hey, sexy – coming home for dinner?

  Evan: who is this?

  Jette: not funny, bossy man. Well? Dinner?

  Evan: yeah – starved. Bringing Adam.

  Jette: K. luv u.

  Evan: <3

  I rummage through the refrigerator and find enough chop meat for burgers. After making the patties, I begin to peel and slice some potatoes for homemade potato chips while Maddy blissfully works on shredding her rope toy into pieces at my feet. She’s great entertainment and I’m glad to have the company.

  While I wait for the boys to return home, I decide to make a few calls to remind everyone about tomorrow’s schedule for the Soft Opening. A quick call to my mother confirms that she and my grandmother will be making the drive down from Bayonne. I give her tips on where to park, but she cuts me off mid-sentence, reminding me that she grew up here at the shore and she knows the area just as well as I do. I haven’t seen her in a few weeks, and I’m actually looking forward to showing off the finished bar. She saw it as an empty office space when we first got the keys. The transformation is remarkable and I just know she’s going to be impressed.

  The next call is to Evan’s mother, Jill. I’ve become very close with Evan’s parents and sister over the last seven weeks. We spent nearly ten hours together wondering if we would ever see him alive again. That was, by far, the worst night of my life. We consoled one another when things looked grim, we tried to lift each other’s spirits when necessary, and we rejoiced together when we finally saw him emerge from the darkness. I aged ten years in those hours, but I also forged a bond with the entire McGuire family that I will cherish forever.

  “Juliette, dear, what time do you want us to arrive? It will only be the four of us, you know. Callie and Dean have decided to have Regan spend the night with Dean’s parents so they can relax and enjoy themselves,” she explains.

  “Well, Evan and I will be there all day, but the doors will officially open at six o’clock,” I respond. “We hope you and John will be the first in line.”

  We chat for a few more minutes and just as I’m about to hang up, Jill asks about the latest gossip she’s been reading about Evan on the Internet. I assure her Adam is handling things and explain about the voluntary drug testing Evan submitted himself to earlier today. She seems satisfied and not overly concerned. I don’t tell her about Evan’s near melt down or his big money deal in the works. We’re not going to talk about it again until it’s official.

  Just as I’m about to hang up, Evan comes walking in the door with Adam following closely behind. I end the call as Evan grabs me and plants tiny love bites all over my neck. I wrap my arms around his waist and give an affectionate squeeze to his posterior. I love the feel of his tight ass in my hands. As I do, he gives a little wriggle with his hips as a playful growl escapes from his lips.

  “Hey, you two. Do you mind?” Adam interrupts.

  “Why don’t you make yourself useful and go turn on the grill,” Evan commands without breaking our bond.

  Maddy follows Adam outside and Evan releases me from his grip. “So, you seem to be in a great mood today. Did you have fun tossing the football around?” I ask.

  He nods in agreement, popping a few cherry tomatoes in his mouth before he continues. “It was awesome. A couple of kids from the high school football team heard we were on the field and came out to meet us. We tossed the ball around with the kids and ran a few of their plays. They’ve got a pretty good team, great bunch of boys.”

  Adam returns and joins in, “Yeah, they were definitely excited to toss the pigskin with Big Mac, here,” he says as he gives Evan a masculine pat on the chest.

  “How did you do, Evan? You know, with your hand and everything?” I know he’s been worried about his grip and hi
s arm. As far as I know, this is his first opportunity to test his skills.

  Evan just grins and playfully arches his eyebrows, suggesting he’s happy with today’s performance. It’s Adam that fills me in on the details.

  “Jette, it was great to watch Evan back with a football in his hands. I don’t know how it’s possible, but I think he’s actually better, more accurate, more precise.” Evan just shrugs off the comment and starts nibbling on a pickle.

  Adam continues, “Since Evan couldn’t work on his throwing techniques, he’s been working extraordinarily hard on his footwork. What I saw today was amazing. He’s always had a good arm and could toss the ball a mile deep, but now he’s got the footwork, too. He’s faster, quicker and more nimble than ever. Coach Vinciguerra is going to shit a brick when he sees Evan dominate the field. Matt Ortiz better start looking at retirement villages and second careers because our man here is ready!”

  Once again, I wake before Evan. He’s sleeping like a baby, and I barely got a solid hour of sleep all night long. I tossed and turned fitfully for hours. My mind has been on overdrive. We have so much riding on the success of today’s Soft Opening. Evan and I both have big financial investments, but perhaps the greater risk is the responsibility we have to our employees. Nearly a dozen people have trusted us to give them the opportunity to earn a living. In order for each of them to have a stable income, we must create a thriving business. The gravity of it all is really starting to crash down on me hard.

  Quietly, I sneak around the room gathering my running clothes and sneakers. I get dressed in the bathroom and slip out the backdoor unnoticed with Maddy by my side. It’s a glorious morning and the sun has just broken across the horizon. As I make my way down the beach, I glance over at the rising sun and admire the beautiful ribbons of colors wrapped around the sky. Amazing hues of blues, pinks and purples are reflected upon the ocean, providing a welcomed distraction and calming my busy mind.

  The first song to shuffle on my playlist is a beautifully soulful song by Sara Bareilles simply entitled, “Brave”. It’s got a great message about finding one’s inner strength and I use the lyrics to propel me along the beach, lost in the words as I sing along with the chorus.

  I pass countless surf fishermen all at their posts, hoping today will be the day they catch a record-breaking striper. I pay no mind to any of them until I pass the sad, lonely young man sitting alone, paying attention to nothing and no one. As I do each day, I offer a friendly, “Hello,” but my kindness goes unacknowledged, as usual. One day I’m going to stop and try to get him to talk. But that day is not today. This day is my big day and I have a busy agenda ahead of me.

  Once Maddy and I reach the boardwalk, we stop for some games. As soon as I remove her leash, she high-tails it directly towards a group of unsuspecting seagulls busily searching the beach for a scrap of something to eat.

  While Maddy is keeping herself occupied, I decide to relax my mind with some yoga postures. To execute one correctly, the mind must be clear and completely focused on muscle control. I decide on a basic triangle pose. I place both feet flat on the ground, spread apart, forming a nearly right angle. I firmly grasp my ankle with one hand and reach for the sky with the other, forming a perfectly straight line. I stretch my neck and chin to stare up into the sky, blocking out all the sounds and sights around me, completely focused on maintaining my position and controlling my breathing.

  I switch positions by rotating my body and repeating the pose. After a few minutes, I relax and check on Maddy, sitting beside me, merrily chewing on a piece of driftwood. In a final attempt to quiet my mind and stretch my muscles, I bring my feet closer together and grab both ankles in a standing forward bend. I can see the image of a male jogger approaching through the narrow opening between my knees. Before I can react, Maddy takes off like a bullet and heads directly towards the jogger. I’m frozen in place, considering the feelings of déjà vu as she jumps all over the unfortunate jogger, nearly knocking him off his feet.

  I snap out of my daze and right myself to head over and collect my dog. It doesn’t take me long to realize what happened.

  “I’m so sorry about my dog. Normally, she doesn’t like men. I hope you’re okay,” I apologize, momentarily stunned by the handsome man standing before me.

  He wipes the sand off his arms and legs left behind by my friendly dog. “It’s not a problem. I love dogs.” He eyes me up and down, then asks, “Mind if I join you? I really hate jogging alone.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. My boyfriend is very protective and he’s prone to fits of rage and jealousy,” I warn him.

  “Well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” he retorts.

  I grab Maddy’s leash and head back towards home, joined by my new friend despite my warnings. “So, you’re going to join me anyway, aren’t you?” I ask.

  “I am,” he quickly admits. “Sorry, but I went to sleep last night with a beautiful woman and I woke up alone in my bed this morning. I absolutely hate waking up alone. I was in a real crappy mood right up until the point I saw you in the horizon, looking all bendy and sexy as hell.”

  I look over at the handsome man beside me and confess, “I can’t believe anyone would be foolish enough to leave you alone in bed. That girl must be a fool.”

  “Any man who would let you jog alone on the beach looking like that is the biggest fool on Earth.” He effortlessly speeds off ahead a few feet, then turns around and grabs me as I run directly into his arms.

  “We better be quick. My boyfriend might come looking for me,” I giggle. He throws me over his shoulder and gives me a rather forceful swat on my backside. “Ouch! That hurt!” I holler.

  “Flirting with strange men on the beach? You deserve that and more, young lady.” Evan carries me back to the house, and for the first time in hours, he finds all kinds of ways to make me forget my worries. Hell, for a little while there, I think I even forgot my own name.

  The front wall of the restaurant is floor to ceiling windows. The local high school Art Department painted our logo on the window weeks ago. As I walk around the restaurant getting the final details in order, I can’t help but glance out the windows every few minutes. It seems that the crowd grows a little larger each time I look.

  We decided as a team not to do any formal advertising for tonight’s Soft Opening. Evan mentioned it on “Night After Night”, but other than that, we haven’t done any marketing. Adam offered countless times to help us prepare a press release, and I came close to accepting his offer a few times. But the final decision was made when my fears were confirmed yesterday that we might not be as ready as I had hoped. The kitchen staff hasn’t really found their groove yet, and a poorly timed visit from food critics could be disastrous.

  Emmy comes up from behind me, wraps an arm around my waist, and joins me as we scan the crowds. “Do you think Adam’s out there?” she asks.

  “Of course, he’s there,” I reassure her. “Adam’s not the kind of guy who forgets to show up and make lame-ass excuses like some people.” I’m reminded of my last boyfriend, David. He thought the universe revolved around him and would often forget about plans and promises. He’s so far back in my rear-view mirror, I’m always surprised when memories of him and our two-year crappy relationship creep back up into my mind. Fortunately, Emmy is so focused on finding her man in the crowd she completely misses my innuendo and I escape from having to explain my comment.

  Marcus joins us with an armful of uniforms. “Here, put this on. It’s almost time to open the doors.” Marcus hands each of us a brown t-shirt with a scoop neck the exact color of milk chocolate. It’s our brand new staff shirt. Our logo is printed across the chest in red and white printing. Red and white are the New Jersey Sentinels colors and every time I see it, I feel that connection to Evan.

  Emmy grabs one and giggles like an excited school girl. “Oh, Jette, they’re perfect. They look amazing. I can’t believe this is really happening.” Emmy hurries back to the restro
om to get changed.

  I head back to my office so I can check on a few things and put on my new shirt. As I make my way through the small restaurant, I quickly see that everything appears to be ready. The wait staff is busily putting the finishing touches on the table settings. The bartenders are all changed into uniforms and checking their stock.

  I pass through the kitchen to reach my office in the back room and find Marcus going over last minute directions with Reese. He’s reminding her of the agreed upon procedures for expediting food orders, but she seems to be largely ignoring him. I’m disappointed to see her treating her boss, and my friend, so disrespectfully. It’s not what I expected from Reese. But then again, I don’t know why I’m so surprised.

  Reese and I have been friends and roommates for a little over two years, and in that entire time, we’ve never worked together. If her study habits are any indication of her work habits, I should have been better prepared. She has a natural talent in the kitchen, an outgoing personality, and sharp mind. She never had to do much studying or practicing to do well in school. I always envied her sense of confidence. Now, I feel it’s morphed into an over-confidence that could serve to derail an otherwise smooth opening. I hope I’m wrong, but I fear I’m not.

  There’s no point in stepping in at this point. We open in just a few more minutes, and I don’t want to undermine Marcus’ role of authority. I’m going to let him work it out for now, but I make a mental note to stay on top of things for the rest of the night.

  As I approach the door to my office, I hear the familiar tapping of keys on a keyboard. I have no doubt that sound I hear is Evan, unable to stay unplugged from his team for very long. Morning, noon, and night, he spends every waking moment on his ‘off’ days watching clips from the team’s practice or e-mailing his coaches and trainers. “Evan, seriously? Can’t you stop checking in with the team for one minute and help me out here? It’s almost time to open the doors.” Is it too much to hope that he’d forget about football for just one night?

 

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