“You know, one day, you guys are going to love each other.”
She snorted. “Oh, Eliza. You’re delusional.”
I laughed and said, “Bye, babe.”
She clicked off without saying goodbye back. Which was so Claire. She answered without hellos. And hung up without goodbyes. And also had it out for Jonah. Argh.
There really was tension between Jonah and Claire. But sometimes, Claire was too straightforward for her own good. She was all honest confrontation when Jonah wanted chill and laid-back.
Why were the people in my life so complicated?
Why did Will want to open a bar without me?
Why did I still feel so uncomfortably lonely after my conversation with Jonah?
I had plans this week. I got to work with my favorite people. I was busy. Yet a nagging sense in the corners of my heart said it could be better than this. That my life was missing some key element.
And shortly on the heels of that loneliness... was a mystery anticipation for tomorrow night. Half anxious worry, half excited elation.
The best part of my friendships with Claire and Ada was that they were free of these warring, complicated, stupid emotions.
So why was my dinner date with Jonah the thing I was most looking forward to?
four
The bar wasbusy when I finally emerged from the office after a long day. I stepped into the kitchen stretching, only to retreat inside my office when Case spun by me, hands full of plates covered in bits of food and smeared sauces.
“I need help in here,” he snarled at me on his way to the dishwasher.
I pushed up the sleeves of my fuchsia button-up blouse and scanned the nooks and crannies for an apron. “Sure, what can I do?”
Plates clattered, and food debris flew as he shoved his armful on a counter next to the industrial dishwasher. He pinned me with a glare from across the tiny kitchen. “Not you, Eliza. Not tonight. I mean, I need permanent help.” He wiped his glistening forehead with a black bandana he pulled from his back pocket, then tied it around his cleanly shaven head. “Listen, when I took this job, Will promised my one-man-circus would be temporary. But here we are, four years later, and I’m still running this shit show solo.”
I tugged my sleeves down and switched gears into HR manager mode. “It’s a compliment,” I said genuinely, hoping he understood the sincere sentiment. “People are just as likely to come here to eat as they are to drink. That says a lot about you, Case.”
He wasn’t charmed by my managerial skills. Or lack thereof. “You’ve got to find someone to help me, Eliza. Or I’m walking out. I like it here. I like you and your brothers. You gave me a job when nobody else would. But I have offers.”
He put his head down to scrape the food off the plates into the trash, and I realized how humbling that was. I had no doubt he had other offers. For starters, the restaurant industry was fucking cutthroat, and good chefs were snatched up and moved around every day.
But also, Case really was something special. We’d gotten lucky because Killian Quinn, one of Will’s friends, had passed his name along. Case had been new to town, looking for a job, didn’t have a reputation, and didn’t have great references from the last kitchen where he’d worked. Apparently, he hadn’t gotten along with the head chef. Eventually, Case fled his hometown and ended up here.
From what Will had said, his old boss had nothing good to say about him. But we’d been desperate. And the kitchen had always been his alone to run.
“Have you talked to Will about it?” I asked, my voice strained with tension from the secret Ada had spilled yesterday.
“No,” Case said simply.
Will wasn’t the easiest to pin down once he was in work mode, so I wasn’t surprised to hear that Case hadn’t managed to corner him.
I’d showed up early to work today, thinking I would have a better chance of confronting Will alone before anyone got here. But then he’d been accepting deliveries, and I still hadn’t worked out my approach. I purposed to try again after lunch... but then I’d eaten late, and everyone else had arrived by then.
Also, he wasn’t always the easiest guy to spring things on. And by “wasn’t always,” I mean he was never, ever the guy to surprise attack. He lashed out first, waged a full-fledged attack, then once everyone was bloody and bruised, finally considered reason.
At least he was that way with Charlie and me.
He managed at least some composure when other people were involved. And with Lola, he was a downright pacifist.
But to be fair, Charlie and I were just as bad. It was the only way to do business with family.
