“I know some people too. I have friends who are looking for spots.”
Oh, my gosh, if this was a ploy just to get one of his friends hired, I would killhim. But to him, I said, “Sure, they can apply. But I’d like to put a posting out there too, just in case.”
“Yeah, sure, of course.”
“The sooner you get it to me, the faster I can get it out in the world.”
His gaze turned intent, determined. “Yeah, I’ll work on it right now.” The computer beeped with an incoming order. “Er, after this order.” The computer beeped again. He made an exasperated face. “I’ll have it to you before the night’s over.”
“Thanks, Case.”
“Thankyou, Eliza. I super appreciate it!”
I stepped into my office and shut the door behind me. I couldn’t stop the huge smile from breaking out on my face. I’d just made progress on two huge things. All by myself. No help from Will. Or Charlie. I’d just like... done the damn thing.
I suppressed a squeal and all but fell into my desk chair. Sometimes I felt way too old not to have my shit together. But othertimes I felt like a boss bitch who didn’t just own her own business but fucking rocked it.
Admittedly, those latter feelings were very few and far between. But today had been a gigantic victory for my self-esteem, and I felt like celebrating.
I pulled out my phone, opening my text box to type out a message. The only problem was... to who? Who would celebrate this win with me? Not Will. I was hesitant to bring up both accomplishments. Lola would get where I was coming from, being a boss bitch herself. But... then she’d tell Will.
Ada was out on the floor, and she would absolutely be happy for me. And of course, Claire would love to celebrate this win with me. But my fingers were already tapping out a message to Jonah. As if I wanted to share my good news with anyone else more than him.
And I knew I could trust him not to go blabbing to Will.
Me:I don’t mean to brag, but I am killing it at work today.
His reply was almost instant.
Jonah:Don’t you kill it at work every day?
I smiled at his biased, good opinion of me.Well, obviously. But today’s been a really good day.
My phone rang. Jonah’s face popped up.Of course, he calls. “Hello?” I answered, unable to tamp down the smile that reached ear to ear. Not just because of all that I had to share with him, but because he was as excited to hear what I had to say as I was to say it. There weren't many men like him in the world.
“Tell me about your good day.”
I could hear background noise like I was on speakerphone. The rumble of the road and that distant sound of his voice not pressed against the speaker. He was probably between jobs, and this was safer than trying to read my messages and voice text back. His deep, gravelly voice was like an extra reward for the day. This was so much better than texting. “I got Miles to start training Charlie behind the bar. Like to make actual drinks. And I made the decision to hire someone to assist Case in the kitchen.”
When I said them out loud, they were less accomplish-y than I thought at first. Nothing had actually been handled. I’d just started two processes that would take a while to come to fruition. Some of the enthusiasm that had felt like soda bubbles fizzing throughout my body receded.
I could tell Jonah didn’t quite know how to respond. He floundered for a few silent seconds before landing on, “Those are huge. You’re amazing.”
The laugh that bubbled out of me was genuine. “You don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“I don’t have to,” he assured me. “If you think they’re big deals, they are. I think Charlie learning to bartend is brilliant. He obviously wants to be more of an asset around the bar, and it would give him more purpose in life. Which is sorely lacking. And I don’t know really know Case, but I know your kitchen is starting to get some attention. What happens if he gets sick or has a family emergency or something?”
“We close the kitchen for the night,” I explained. It wasn’t our official policy, but it’s what we’d done in the past.
“Obviously, that’s not an ideal solution. Hiring help will be a long-term strength. But fair warning, it might be difficult. People are fleeing food service right now in droves. Most of my clients are looking for chefs, and they can’t find anyone who wants weekend and night shifts. People have options these days. And given a choice, apparently people choose regular nine-to-fives over working all hours of the night and day.”
“Hmm, what’s that like?” I teased, knowing he would understand the plight of an overworked small business owner.
“I have no idea.” He laughed darkly.
“Case says he might know some people,” I pointed out, my skeptical feelings flipping toward carefully optimistic. “But I’m hoping for more options. I guess we’ll see.”
“Do you want me to reach out to Killian or Ezra? They might know some people.”
