That was how I preferred it. I hated yelling. Hated raising my voice, sounding as though I was trying to overtake everyone else’s. I hated how necessary it was over the sizzling pans, slicing of knives, and clinking dishes.
Like most everything else, I had to become someone different to yell. Some kind of domineering persona—my voice was steady, confident, unwavering. I had to be heard over everyone and everything else. I was the spotlight and the engine, needing to ensure it all went smoothly. If Iwere someone else, I could ignore how much it reminded me of my dad. Otherwise, being the center of attention would only make it worse. The itching, I mean.
Thanks to an unexpected callout, we were stretched for people. I helped Layla with prepping vegetables, working side by side with her to get everything done. Layla was a great worker. She was fast, delicate, and took criticism like a champ. She was every manager’s dream worker, despite one major flaw.
She talked way too much.
For some unknown reason, she seemed to adore me even though I was rarely responsive. She talked like we were best friends. There wasn’t much to like about me. I was aloof at best, an isolated hermit at most.
I tuned her out, deciding to focus on my mental stability rather than her yapping. As it turned out, that was a great error on my end.
“Hello? Are you listening?” Layla paused, her knife mid-chop.
“Uh, not really. Zoned out.” I began to wonder if I should start paying more attention to my surroundings. I felt a little bad, knowing I’d ignored her for so long.
She sighed, laying her knife down completely before turning to me. Long, brunette strands of hair fell on each side of her face. “How long have you known me?”
I tried. I really did try to remember how long she’d worked here. It was pathetic how long I thought about it, cycling through the foggy haze that clouded my head. “A while?” I guessed.
“Six months. Six months, and I’ve never actually seen you smile. You’re always so angry-looking. Especially when Rant is around.”
Could she blame me? They all knew how insufferable Brandt was to be around, and the guy was my boss. She was wrong, though. What she saw wasn’t constant anger. It was a mask designed to showcase anger when really, the burning pit in my veins was constantly trying to burn me alive.
When Layla hadn’t continued her thought, I stopped my slicing and looked at her from the side. “Is there more?”
“You need a hobby.”
Oh, boy.
“Something to do outside of here and cooking at home,” she continued, suddenly closer than she was before. “Maybe going drinking on ouroff days.” That wasn’t exactly a hobby. “Picking up golf.” Did she know who she was talking to? Oh, right. No, she didn’t. “You need some stress relief. I could help you out, you know.” Her hand landed on my shoulder, crossing the line of uncomfortable completely. “This place stresses me out, too. I’m sure we could have some fun.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “If you know what I mean.”
Yeah, I was glad I missed that the first time around. I let her hand linger only long enough for me to calmly set my knife down onto the counter. “Did you really just ask me to hook up, Layla?”
The natural blush of her cheeks paled. “Um.”
“When have I ever given you any indication that was what I wanted, hm?” I used the tone I usually saved for Brandt, forcing confidence and disgust into my voice. “I haven’t, by the way. Never once. Do you really think it’s such a good idea to proposition the person willingly helping you with your work?”
She took a step back, her eyes widening. “I?—”
“Don’t. You’ve officially pissed me off, which is hard to do outside of Brandt.” I wiped my hands off with a cloth before throwing it onto the counter. “Congrats, you’ve lost your extra help for the night. Now you’ve got double the work, and I’m putting you on Callum’s station. Don’t fuck up tonight or I’ll be calling Matt. Consider this an act of grace that I’m not already on the phone with him.”
“Yes, sir.”
Putting her with Callum was the best way to punish her without any real repercussions. As a locally owned, small restaurant, our HR situation was lackluster, to say the least.
Matt adored me, but he was never around. He was oblivious to what was happening in his business, always in and out, not paying much attention to the complaints everyone made about Brandt. He adored me, but he adored Brandt more thanks to familial relation or some bullshit like that.
After Layla’s little stunt, I had officially lost any respect I could’ve had for her, and we immediately got slammed the minute we opened.
We were at full capacity within an hour, an unusual event considering our small status. I didn’t have time to think about how frustrated I was, too busy sweating my ass off while I ran around managing everything by myself.
Brandt left after an hour and a half, leaving me with nobody else to call on when shit inevitably hit the fan. Just a normal night, basically, but an extra body would’ve been nice.
I had to deal with every angry customer, every server fuck-up, and a whiny Layla who claimed Callum was too annoying to deal with.
Thankfully, Tobias seemed to be doing all right despite his limited experience and this being his first full house rush. He was a good kid. Quiet and reserved, but great on the grill.
Usually, I’d end a night like tonight with an entire bottle of cheap liquor and a mindless TV show to try and drown out the incessant whirring in my ears. By the sixteenth mistake, the fourth angry customer, and fifth full meal comp, I knew that wasn’t what I needed anymore.
