“I think that’s enough for today, Chef,” she says, standing and straightening her clothes.
My eyes stay on her with every step she takes on her way out the door. The grin on my face spreads, ready to celebrate this as the victory it is. She’s not the type of woman who can lose face by saying yes. But she’s coming around.
Finalizing the menu design on the screen, I send it off to the local printer, and CC Lexi on the email.
The Heights isn’t ready for how great this place is about to be.
EIGHT
LEXI
Rory Grady
Did you finish the managerial course yet?
Lexi
Yep
Liar
Why’d you ask if you knew the answer, counselor?
First thing you learn in law school. Never ask the question you don’t know the answer to.
I’ve been busy.
Let me rephrase.
Don’t put off that course, there’s a lot in there that will help you and you won’t have as much time once the restaurant is open.
Can’t wait
School wasn’t my strong suit. I was more of a recess kid. Hang out with friends, get some snacks, that was the only subject I excelled in.
This managerial course isn’t going much better for me than the required algebra class did in high school when I asked our teacher why I had to study this if I was never going to use it. His answer that we wouldn’t have a calculator on us all the time has aged like strawberry milk. That math feels about as relevant as what I’m reading about on this stupid website.
It’s not that it isn’t teaching me things I should probably know as a brand-new business owner and manager of a restaurant when I’m totally new to food service.
But who really gives a shit about paperwork and all the annoying details? I’ve got a little sister who’s good at all that.
My plan is to make sure my staff follow the health codes, make good food, keep customers happy, and ring them up for it.
That hasn’t changed with a single module of this online course, and I’m sure the next one won’t help either.
Clicking into it on my computer, I’m thankful for the quiet of the upstairs office. The window cracked behind me lets in some morning breeze, cooler than the sultry temperatures of midday thanks to the shade of the trees coming in clutch.
Ah yes, the human relations module.
With barely ten staff, all but one I’ve known for decades—actually—I’m confident I can scroll through most of this stuff, skimming it just enough to be able to pass the quiz at the end of each section.
A metallic crash sounds from downstairs, and I stand to check on it, but hear Charlie call out, “I’m fine, everything is fine!” and sit back down instead.
“Awesome,” I mutter. Not exactly wiggle room in the budget for new pots or pans if he dents the ones we’ve got. Hopefully Samuel’s there to help.
A red timer pops up on the screen, pulling my attention back to it.
Are you still there?it asks, ticking down.
