6
Sam
Devon was clocked in and managing the crowd seconds after Tiffany had left.I would have preferred to have her working tonight, but she’d done a commendable job ensuring that the staff knew the menu well enough, and she’d been working grueling hours herself.
Come to think of it, Harry may have mentioned her work ethic before, but it had always been lost when compared with his throw-away comments about how she had added new liquor to the shelf or made new arrangements with their distributors.
Worryingly, Tiffany wasn’t my biggest issue right now.Since coming home, I’d been contacted for interviews and requests to comment on local events—my reputation proceeding me all the way from the West Coast.
A notification sat ignored on the screen of my laptop, taunting me.Since returning, I’d refreshed my news alerts to include any reference to The Basement, as well as ones for my name.
It had been a mixed bag so far.One piece with the headline “Out With The Old, In With The new” had been favorable, commending me on replacing the overly fancy menu we’d had in favor of simpler staples and an expanded craft beer and local wine selection.They were changes I was proud of, and thankfully, our customers were responding well to them.
The only downside of this was that the journalist had all but declared a war between myself and another local owner, Stephen Pierce, whose bars represented a very boutique, exclusive style of service; going so far as saying that “it’s refreshing to see a bar embrace its customers and not treat them like peasants who could only hope to afford the lifestyle it promises.”
On the other hand—because there was always an opposing opinion—another article had commented that the bar was losing its touch, calling me out for removing the more creative drinks from the menu and “completely negating it’s one redeeming quality, creative mixologist Tiffany Young.”
It had been posted that morning, marking one week since I’d taken over, and had irked me all day.The sentiment was misguided, not to mention a little premature.Despite what the post said, the changes had actually boosted our business.Which was the point.
However, it would be foolish of me to ignore the reviews completely.All information helped, and if these were the first of many comments like it, I’d need to prepare myself.
Forcibly loosening my jaw, I sighed.If this was the start of a trend, I’d be disappointed.Tiffany had already taken the chance to preen over their praise, using it as an example of why I was wrong.In return, I’d explained that the success of a business could not rest on the shoulders of a single employee, but she’d simply pointed out that the last four years only proved that wrong.
As a direct result of Tiffany having the night off, I’d made sure we were fully staffed for the night, although it had been a stretch to arrange everyone’s schedules.Apparently, they’d all gotten a little too used to Tiffany always being there and taking on their shifts when they had other plans.A habit I’d be correcting as soon as possible.
“Everything under control?”I asked Devon.He was busy building a round of three drinks and kept his focus on that while he responded.
“All good, boss.Got a few regulars who are asking about the old menu, but we’re handling it.”
The customer Devon was serving spoke up.“I was just saying it’s a shame the menu changed.Tiff’s drinks were the only thing keeping me coming back.”
“Hopefully, we can impress you enough to keep your business.”
This was precisely why I didn’t want the bar to rely on a single person.If Tiffany left, the bar would lose its supposed “redeeming quality,” and then what?We needed to be able to run smoothly and successfully with or without her.
So far tonight, we were managing it.
The only complication, as far as I could see, was Riley.Or, more specifically, the lack of Riley.After her clash with Nathan the night before, I hoped she wasn’t acting out.I was willing to accommodate certain things, but that was the sort of behavior I wouldn’t allow to continue.
When Devon confirmed that she hadn’t swapped shifts or called in sick, I decided I would grant her the grace of another half hour before I called her and told her not to bother showing up tonight.
When she did finally saunter in, forty-five minutes late for her shift, I’d already decided that it was time for a formal warning.I didn’t want to leave any room for misinterpretation.If this behavior continued, she could start looking for a new job.
Since it was busy, I decided to wait until the end of her shift to speak with her.
Action became necessary at around 11 p.m.when I overheard a customer ask her for a recommendation, and her response was a terse, “How about you pretend you’ve been to a bar before and just tell me what you want.”
Devon was quick to cut in and ask her to get some clean glasses so that he could take over, and I knew I’d have to find some room in the budget to start paying him more.
Once Riley had returned, I ushered her into the office.She followed and took a seat in the small room.I shut the door to drown out at least some of the noise, even though it was futile at this hour.
Sitting down, I considered her.Arms crossed, back straight, prepared for a fight.“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“How long have you worked here?”I knew the answer already but wanted to lead into this gently.
“A year.”
