“Free for lunch?”
At the sound of his voice, Ian’s head whipped around. “Hey, Brad. Sorry, was in the middle of two things when you came in.”
He slid off the stool and held his hand out. Brad shook it and slipped his hands into his pockets. “No worries. I could have called, but I’ve been sitting all morning. I wanted to move.”
“Understood.” He looked at his watch. “Yeah, I can do lunch. I have a one o’clock three blocks down. Let me grab my stuff and we can hit this place I usually go to after church on Sundays. They should have room for us, and it’s near where I need to be.”
Within minutes, Ian had a bag slung over his shoulder and stood next to Brad in the elevator. Brad used the ride down to send a text to Sami to let her know he’d left early. Ian took the time to send two texts, then looked over at Brad as he slipped his phone into his pocket. “Sorry. It’s been a little crazy.”
Brad lifted an eyebrow. “My father suggested I might want to look into increasing the staff in your department. Do you need it?”
They exited the building. The bright sun felt warm. Brad slipped on sunglasses. “If we keep the same work burden, then yes. We definitely need help. If this is just a temporary overlap of work and it will slow down, then no.”
They walked in silence for a few moments while Brad contemplated it. “I’ll let you know. I think the design division is growing fast. I know Valerie Flynn remarked about how little space they had in the office in Savannah. It’s almost like we’ve spent so much time growing and not enough time accommodating growth.”
Ian gestured at the doorway to the restaurant. They walked in and the hostess immediately greeted Ian with a smile. “Mr. Jones, so good to see you today. Will your wife be joining you?”
“Just us two today, please, Rebekah. Thanks.”
After she seated them at a table by the window overlooking the street, Ian picked up their conversation. “I don’t think that you’ve neglected anything. The problem with growth, especially in this industry, is that you might be looking at a feast or famine type of scenario. You don’t want to overload your staff if you’re in a feast that will turn into a famine, but you also don’t want to overwork those that work for you. I know it’s a delicate balancing act, and from what I can see, you do a remarkable job.” He didn’t pick up the menu. “The rib eye sandwich is the best in town.”
“Thanks. I appreciate your encouragement.” When they gave their orders to the waitress, he asked, “How is Calla’s restaurant coming?”
“We are very hectic right now.” Ian laughed. “I should have probably taken the week off of work to help her.” He fielded a text on his phone. “She has changed the menu five times, and just finished hiring the last of the staff this morning. I think it’s going to be a great success.”
Calla had worked for Dixon Contracting for several years before quitting to go to culinary school. “Knowing how hard she works and what a hole she left in her department when she quit Dixon, I believe she’ll be a tremendous success.”
The waitress returned with drinks. Brad smiled his thanks, then took a small sip of his tea. Ian said, “Calla told me you RSVP’d for two. Anything I should know about?”
Brad took a deep breath and released it slowly. He looked around, then spoke quietly, “I plan on asking Valerie Flynn to be my date.”
“Oh really? Do tell.”
“Well, there’s not much to tell. She’s a childhood friend. I did once propose, and she accepted.”
“Are you serious?” Ian sat forward.
“Dead serious. I’ve never held her to it. We were maybe eight years old at the time.”
Ian laughed. “Oh, I see. Well, maybe that will give you some leverage.” He looked toward the entrance and his smile grew larger. “Speaking of.”
Brad turned his head and watched Ian’s wife Calla, Sami, and Valerie walking toward them. Ian and Brad both stood. Calla easily went into Ian’s arms, giving him a quick hug and a small kiss. “Rebekah told me you were here. I thought you had to work through lunch.”
“I should be, but when Mr. Dixon shows up in your office and asks you to lunch, you sort of go.”
Brad chuckled. “You could have told me you had work to do.”
With a smile, Ian gestured at the hostess. “You say that now.” When Rebekah approached, he said, “I think we need a bigger table now.”
“Of course. Right this way.”
Brad picked up the menu she’d handed him and followed the group. As he pulled out a chair at the new table, across from Ian and next to Valerie, he said, “Sami, if I’d known you were out, I wouldn’t have bothered you with a text.”
“No worries, Mr. Dixon. Your text came in seconds after Calla asked if I wanted to go to lunch. So, the timing was perfect.”
After the table ordered food, Brad looked over at Valerie. Even though she laughed at something Calla said, he noticed a tired look in her eyes. From this angle, he could see the scar that lined her chin and went partially down her neck. His mother had once commented on how another inch and Valerie would never have survived. He internally thanked God for protecting her.
Instead of dwelling on that, he said to Calla, “Ian tells me you’ve finalized the menu for opening night.”
