“Hey, can I get some service?” A middle-aged man in a Cleveland Browns jacket leaned on the counter, his lips turned down.
“Yes, I’ll be right with you. I just need to get Hank Haverill’s attention.”
The man scratched his balding head and looked from her to where Hank was surrounded by adoring fans. “He’s never gonna hear you. Can’t you see he’s busy?”
Bethany ignored the man and looked for something to stand on, but every chair was filled. She thought about standing on the counter, but she could picture the news reporter turning his camera on her and the headline the next day:Grandma Lou’s Owner Distressed Over Sale of Building. She squeezed herself past the counter. That was as far as she got.
“Hey, get in line, lady. I was here first.”
Bethany turned to see a skinny teenage boy in cutoffs and a tank. His greasy blond hair covered his eyes. His voice went up and down an octave as teenage boys’ voices tended to do. Next to him stood two similarly scrawny friends. Did they have enough to eat? They looked too thin to Bethany. Their clothes were dirty and torn in spots.
Bethany gave them her sternest look, the one her mother always used when she whined once too often. “I’m sorry, but this is important. I own this restaurant, and I need to talk to Hank Haverill. Move aside.”
“We all want to, lady.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice. “Look how long the line is. We’ve been waiting over an hour. It’s not fair we have to give up our spot.”
Bethany followed his pointed finger out the front door and narrowed her eyes. This was her business. She would not wait in a long line to talk to Hank, and she didnothave time to argue with a mouthy adolescent. She drew a breath. “Listen.”
Her mother used to recite a proverb whenever dealing with difficult customers. Bethany could almost hear her voice.You can catch more flies, Bethany sweetie, with honey rather than vinegar.Like the sun poking between dark clouds, an idea shimmered in her mind, building in intensity. She forced her lips into a semblance of what she hoped was a smile. “How would you three like free donuts while you wait?”
The teens looked at the remaining chocolate donuts with sprinkles in the display case, then to Hank, and back to Bethany. Their eyes widened. “Really?” the first boy asked.
Bethany fixed her smile in place. “Yep. Let me line jump, and you and your friends can have the last three.”
The boy licked his lips. “These are my younger brothers. You got yourself a deal. We’ll take ’em.”
She smiled and nabbed the donuts, but paused before handing them to the boys. “How would you like to earn donuts and breakfast or lunch every day for the rest of the week?”
“What do you mean?” The first boy tilted his head, his expression wary.
Bethany kept her voice professional. “I’m offering you a job in exchange for food.”
The boy’s surly expression vanished, but suspicion flared from his brown eyes. “Whatjob?”
“I could use some extra hands to wash dishes this week. As you can see, we’ve had a rush of customers.”
“Seriously?” The suspicion was replaced by cautious enthusiasm.
“Yes. See that man over there? That’s my brother, Travis. He can show you what to do. Give me two hours of your time each morning, and you’ll each earn donuts and a meal. Interested?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the first boy responded for the group.
“What are your names?”
“I’m Sean, that’s Liam, and he’s Declan.” The boy pointed at each brother in turn.
Bethany firmed her lips. “Okay, Sean, Liam, and Declan. I do have a few rules. No swearing, and you’ll wash your hands before you get started and any time you use the restroom.”
The boys passed each other a look before the oldest boy spoke again. “Yes, ma’am.”
She grimaced. “And everyone around here calls me Bethany.”
The boys nodded and the spokesperson responded. “Okay, Bethany.”
Bethany proffered a donut to each of them in turn, along with a smile, and moved in front of them in line.
“You,” Elizabeth said, when Bethany had made it near the front fifteen minutes later.
“Me.” Bethany kept her smile firmly in place. “I run this place, remember? I need to talk to Hank. Get me to the front of the line.”
