Ahem.
“Have you seen Will?” I asked Eliza as I put my stuff down for the day.
“Uh, I think he’s in the freezer. Why?”
“Oh, I thought the three of us could chat for a few minutes.” I tried to smile, but I was nauseous with nerves.
“All of us? You want me to get him?” She looked around the office as if I was surprising her with an intervention.
“Yeah, sure. Do you mind? I just wanted to go over something with you both. Get your thoughts.”
She stood and headed toward the kitchen. At the door, she turned around and asked, “You’re not going to quit, are you? You wouldn’t like, just spring that on us, right?”
It was a good sign that she was already nervous. Maybe Charlie had been onto something.
Five minutes later, Will—who looked a little blue from the freezer—and Eliza walked into the office wearing matching concerned expressions. Once they were seated, I stood and shut the door.
“Do you mind?” I asked since it was almost never shut all the way.
“Go for it,” Will insisted. “Is this serious, Ade? You’ve got us a little nervous over here.”
I hoped my smile was comforting, but I was a tight bundle of nerves, so it was hard to say what they saw. By Eliza’s grimace, I didn’t think it was a good thing.
“Is this about Charlie?” Will blurted. “Whatever he did, we can—”
“This isn’t about Charlie,” I assured him quickly. “Promise. I just... uh, my living situation has changed recently.” At their panicked looks, I added, “My sister, Adleigh, moved in with her boyfriend. All good things, except I’m suddenly without a roommate to help me with rent. And my lease is—” I was rambling, but I didn’t know how to get to the next sentence. Why was it so awkward to ask for more money? Why was it even harder when you knew you deserved more money? There was a weird stigma about knowing your worth. On one hand, society preached relentlessly about knowing our own value and demanding to get paid accordingly. And on the other hand, what business could actually afford to pay an entire staff all that it was worth by some ambiguous, inflated self-esteem standard?
I wanted to get paid more. But I also needed to keep this job. I thought it was better to understand your company than the actual dollars and cents you deserved. Because then you would know how hard to push, how much to ask for, and when to settle when things started to tip out of your favor.
I didn’t know exactly what the English siblings brought home. But I had noticed some significant changes in their personal lives. Charlie’s upgraded apartment, for one. Will and Lola looking for a house for when the baby was born. Eliza and Jonah had been taking a lot of trips lately—which was usually thanks to Jonah, but Eliza always spilled how much she spent and splurged.
Business was good, which meant their GM should be paid accordingly. Right?
“Anyway, the point is...” I had not been making a point in any way, shape, or form. “I work really hard for you guys. In some ways, I feel like I’m irreplaceable. Or at least, very difficult to replace. I’m here almost every day we’re open. I’ve weathered a lot of staff changes over the years. And the bar is flourishing. We’re making more money than ever.”
Will nodded seriously. “Yes, those things are all true. But, sorry, what’s your point?”
Eliza smothered a smile. “Yes, Ada, other than sharing facts we already know, did you want to ask us something?”
Oh my God. I forgot the most important part.To them, I said, “I was just getting to that.” I cleared my throat and stared at Will’s forehead. “I think, well, um, before... when you were talking about the second location... you, uh, you mentioned a raise.” I paused, just in case they wanted to start throwing money at me before I went any further. They waited patiently for me to make sense. “What I’m trying to say is that I think I deserve more money now. Like right now. I think I should get a raise now. And later, if there is a lot of work with the second location, we can maybe talk more about a fuller picture of responsibilities and earning potential. But I would also like to be paid for the work I’m doing right now.”
“So you’re not quitting?” Will clarified.
I smiled, finding the courage of a shark somewhere in the murky depths of my wilting self-esteem. “Not yet.” I laughed, and it only sounded slightly maniacal. “To be honest, I would like to do whatever it takes to stay here at Craft, in whatever capacity you’ll have me. I love the bar. I love the potential. I love my job. But I need to make a certain amount of money to make that possible. So today, I am not quitting. But depending on what you decide...”
I couldn’t believe I’d taken Charlie’s advice and let them think I would actually walk away from Craft. How could I? I loved this place. It wasn’t mine. I wasn’t even a part owner. But I treated it like my own baby, like I’d been here from the very beginning. And I almost had been.
I hoped they saw that in me.
“Uh, yeah, sure,” Will said. I almost jumped out of my seat and squealed, but he continued. “Let me run the numbers. And talk to my partners.” Eliza smothered a laugh. “Why don’t you write down the exact figure you’re looking for. And we’ll be in touch.”
“So professional,” Eliza muttered.
Will shot her a dirty look. To me, he said, “We’re obviously highly motivated to make this work for you, Ada. But we’re also not made of money.”
His insinuation that I would ask for an exorbitant amount stung a little, but I also understood that this was business. “I’ll be reasonable,” I promised. And I was open to meeting in the middle if I had to. But I didn’t want to say that to him in case he decided to shoot for somewhere in the middle no matter what number I gave him. But since this wasn’t my original idea, I quickly added, “Also you should probably talk to Charlie. Include him in the conversation too.”
Will blurted, “Really?” before he could think better of it.
