Perhaps it wasn’t a move. It was an escape.
Maybe, too, the designer clothes he wears aren’t signals of wealth, but vestiges of a life he no longer has.
Julien is turning this over when he realizes that Uncle Martin has been staring at him, expectation etched across his face. “Well?”
“Can you, uh...” Julien’s face heats up “...repeat what you just said?”
Martin slouches back in his chair. “We’re revamping our approach to happy hour. On Wednesdays and Thursdays between five and seven, we’ll host Wine Down Wednesdays and Thirsty Thursdays. Mixers for young professionals. On top of the drink specials and small plates, there will be music, demonstrations, the works. We’re going for something a little more European than our competitors to help us stand out.”
“Okay,” Julien says, still processing. “What does this have to do with us?”
Uncle Martin never fully clicked with Julien’s neurodivergence, which is why he shows his frustration by rubbing a hand down his face exaggeratedly. “You two are to host them, working together, making them happen.”
Julien looks at Greg with panic swarming in his sternum. Him, team up with the playboy new guy formixers? He does not mix. He does not mingle. He does notwant to. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Uncle Martin purses his lips before saying, “It’s not a good idea to let both of you go, either, so this is the compromise Augustine and I have come up with. Wednesdays and Thursdays are notoriously our slowest nights, so if this fails, we won’t crash and burn right away. Julien, you get upset when your wine expertise is overshadowed, and Greg, you are new at the bartending game around here and are having difficulty navigating the boundaries. This way, we play to each of your skill sets and offer something different that will hopefully appeal to a new demographic.”
Julien sighs audibly.
Finally, Greg shows up in the conversation, sitting forward and pleading his own case. “All due respect, Julien may know about wine, but he doesn’t know about cocktails.”
Julien’s fingers twitch. If he set his mind to it, he could master hard liquor, but the overflowing recycling bin of empties from childhood reminds him why he doesn’t go near the stuff.
“That’s why you’ll be working together and teaching each other.” Uncle Martin’s arms are folded across his chest. Julien knows this means there is no swaying him on the matter. It’s happening.
But that doesn’t stop Julien’s tongue from slipping one last time. “There aren’t enough hours in the day for me to get him up to speed with all I know about wine.”
Uncle Martin’s brow creases deeper. “Julien, enough. The two of you have too much potential, and currently it’s being squandered by your inexperience and your lack of attention. I’m hoping the two of you can help balance each other out and not make a bigger mess of things than you already have. This meeting is a warning. This project is your probation. If you refuse or fail, we’ll have to take other appropriate action.”
Uncle Martin’s boss-voice signals he means business, and it makes Julien’s stomach free-fall.
If he doesn’t shape up, he could lose his job. Uncle Martin has never played the nepotism card, and he already suggested Julien take time off before Greg arrived. The last thing he needs is a forced break. His bank account would riot.
“I won’t hear any more about this. The two of you will report to Augustine regarding supplies you’ll need—special orders, decorations, theme-appropriate items.”
“There have to bethemes?” Julien asks with barely hidden disdain.
Seven
GREG
The next day, Greg finds himself back at the kitchen table with Rufus and Jessica, eating more free Chipotle burrito bowls and discussing the evolving Julien situation.
“Whoa, workplace nemeses have to team up. This is getting good. I’m not even mad I had to cancel my Netflix subscription when real life has this much drama,” Jessica says eagerly before scooping up a heaping dollop of guacamole with a chip. “I don’t know what I’d do if I had to do a catering gig with Nadine. Probably quit, honestly. Did you say no?”
“Of course not,” Greg says, pushing his food around. His appetite is a no-show thanks to his increased anxiety. He needs this job and the money it brings in. He can’t afford to get fired or for the restaurant to close. He can only ignore the debt collectors for so long. Yeah, Rufus would probably let him slide a month or two on rent or utilities if he explained the situation, but that’s just it. He doesn’t want to explain the situation. This move was all about rebuilding his finances and, honestly, his life. Backsliding isn’t an option. Except: “Julien seemed less than thrilled about it.”
“Oh, so it’s a two-way nemesis situation. You didn’t say that before.” Rufus says this like Greg has been withholding top secret information on a special spy mission. It isn’t that deep.
“I don’t think work nemeses are as common as you two think they are.” Greg gives up the act and sets down his fork. He’ll save this for a late snack when he gets back tonight. “I have no idea how to get in his good graces enough to make this work.”
Jessica and Rufus both wear intense thinking faces before a bright idea seems to spark for Rufus. “Swing the pendulum in the other direction. If you were avoiding him before and that wasn’t working, actively do the opposite.”
“Stalking,” Greg says, alarmed. “You’re describing stalking.”
“No!” Jessica clarifies for Rufus. It’s sweet that they know each other that well. “What my lovely boyfriend is trying to get at is that you should befriend him. Invite him on a non-work-related outing and offer to pay.”
“A date,” Greg says, even more alarmed. “You’re describing a date!”
