Chapter 4
Luke
I watch her walk out of the restaurant. My whole body has been one vibrating nerve from when my eyes met hers. No matter how many times I tried to get her to look at me, she avoided me. But the times she did look at me, I was hoping she would give me something, anything to indicate she didn't hate me. But her shield was up. I knew it the minute she looked at me. It was a shield that took me a year to break down, and in the span of one second and a very fucking bad decision, it was back up again. "Are you going to be okay?" I hear Mikaela and turn to look at her.
"You couldn't have mentioned that the bride was Clarabella?” I question while my hand grips the white rag that I used to carry out the hot plates.
"What difference would it have made? A bride is a bride." She puts her hands on her hips, shaking her head. "You've worked with her before."
"Yeah," my mouth says, but at the same time, my head says, before you messed it up royally. "Well, it's different working with her and working for her." I turn and walk away from Mikaela before I say something I shouldn't.
Instead of going to the kitchen and cleaning up my workstation, I head to the office. I slam the door behind me and toss the rag on the couch before going to the bathroom and turning on the cold water in the sink. My body feels like it's on fire as I cup my hands under the stream of cold water, splashing it on my face. When I close my eyes, all I see is her holding his hand and walking out with him.
She never looked back, not once, and trust me, I know because all I could do was stare at her. She was wearing tight black jeans that molded to her long legs, legs that I spent a whole night worshiping. Her ass fit perfectly in my hands when I picked her up. "You fucked up," I tell myself when I look at my reflection in the mirror.
I wipe my face with a towel. "She's getting married," I say in disbelief. "Fucking married." I shake my head, and the knock on the door has me turning my head. I don't know why, but for a split second, I think it's her.
For only one second before the door opens and Mikaela pokes her head in. "I come in peace." She’s holding two glasses in her hand. She walks in and hands me one of the glasses with amber liquid inside.
"Thank you." I drink it down in two gulps, feeling the burn all the way down to my stomach.
"Jeez." She puts her own glass to her mouth. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I’m fine." I put the glass down on the desk and then turn to lean on it. "When can we start the staff meeting?"
"In about thirty minutes." She takes a sip of her drink and goes to sit on the couch. "They are just cleaning up, the last customer left right now."
"What has been going on?" I ask. "Obviously, with me in New York, I wasn't hands-on like I was before I left."
"Everything is pretty much the same." She shrugs her shoulders. "Hostess girls have been hard to find." I nod my head. "We've taken a lot more catering jobs than we did before you left."
"That's always good to help us grow. Word of mouth is everything."
"It's also thanks to Clarabella for that,” Mikaela says, and just hearing her name, my stomach sinks, and my heart speeds up. "She made us their top caterer at the venue."
"We were doing a lot of events before," I chime in. It was why I got so close to her, even though I knew it was a bad idea. But everything about her was amazing. Is amazing. She worked her ass off and never ever let you see her sweat. She was ballsy. She was sharp. She had an idea for how things needed to be. She never let anyone get away with talking down to her. She would nip that in the bud and make sure they knew she was not messing around. And she was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous.
"We were, but then she brought us in for corporate events, which then led to business booming every single day of the week," she points out, and I shake my head, wondering why she would do that after what I did to her. "It boosted sales, not just here but also at the pub."
My hands fist as she goes on and on about how amazing she is. Like I don't already know. "Let's get this over with so I can get home and go to sleep."
She takes another sip, not caring that I just barked at her and that I'm taking it out on her because I'm pissed. "She also brought the pub in to do birthday parties and stuff."
I look over at her. "I'm going there tomorrow," I say. "Right before we go and visit the new place you were talking about.”
"The one by the water?" she asks, and her eyes light up.
"That's the one,” I confirm. When she called me a couple of weeks ago and told me about this place right by the water that was selling, I was hesitant at first until I saw the pictures. I saw what it could be, and it was a no-brainer. Nestled right over the lake near a marina, it is going to be a great summer spot for sure. "But I want to go in fifty-fifty,” I say, and she just looks at me, shocked. "I know you don't have the capital right up front, so I'll put up the money, and you can pay me back."
"I don't know what to say," she whispers. It's no secret she's had a hard life. It's also no secret that for the past six months, she's run this place and the pub without taking one day off.
"You don't have to say anything,” I reply, getting up. "You earned this." I open the door and walk out to see staff all around the bar. The hostess girls are on their phones, and I clear my throat. They don't even bother to look up.
"Can I have everyone's attention?" I raise my voice, and the girls finally look up at me. One of them even smirks at me. "For those of you who don't know me, I'm Luke, and I'm the boss."
Mikaela clears her throat. "I'm the second boss."
"Can we speed this up?" the blonde says, leaning back in her chair.
"We sure can," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. "You're fired." They both just look at me and then at each other, unsure of what to say or what the hell just happened.
"You can't just fire me!" the blonde retorts.
"Oh, but I can," I inform her. "You know why?" I wait for her to have one of her snarky comebacks. "Let me tell you why. One, you standing at that stand." I point at the hostess stand. "Which means when someone comes into this place, you are the first face they see. Do you think they want you to be on your phone and ignoring them?" I look at them, waiting. "Because if it was me, I wouldn't even give you a second thought and be out of here. Which means you’re costing me money." They just look at me, and the other staff members avoid looking at them. "And if I'm not making money, no one is getting paid."
"It's not all the time," one of them says.
"Even one time is one time too many." I look over at Mikaela, who just nods. "If you’re bored at the front, I'd rather see you walking around helping out by filling up water glasses than on your phone. So if those rules are too much to go by, the door is right there." I look around the room at everyone. "If demanding your full attention when you are working here is too much for any of you, now is your chance to speak up." I wait to see who will get up and who will stay. Even I'm surprised when no one moves, not even the blondes. "Good," I say, and Mikaela smiles. "With that said, I think we are going to be hiring more staff for behind the bar." The bartenders just nod their heads, and one puts up their hand.
"What about hiring someone just to deal with the tables?" he asks. "Lots of times, we are slammed with our own clients, and then we have the machine going nuts for the waitstaff."
I nod at him. "We will definitely be getting you some backup,” I assure him. The rest of the meeting goes fast as I take the time to ask everyone what they like and what they are struggling with. It's something that I started in New York, and the workers just connected with you even more. If they think you’re listening to them, they will work harder for you. Once the last person walks out of the door, I turn to Mikaela.
"I got to hand it to you," she says, smirking. "I thought those two were goners."
"Must be my charm," I joke, yawning and then rubbing my hands over my face. "Let's go," I say, and we both walk out the back door. She locks it as I wait for her to get in her car before I get into my truck and head over to my house.
Pulling up in the driveway, I see that the front lights are on because they are set on a timer. I get out of the truck and walk over to the garage door, punching in the code. The door slowly starts to open. The beeping sound fills the garage, making me duck under the opening door and rush to the alarm panel to put in the code. The minute I finish putting in the last number, the beeping stops. I wait for the door to open before pressing the button to close it. I kick off my shoes once I walk up the two steps to the mudroom, not even turning on the light. My bedroom is right off the mudroom, and when I step in, the only light coming in is the reflection of the moon and the lights from outside. The bed is exactly how I left it, with the covers half on the floor. I stand here for a minute just looking at the bed, my heart beating so fast in my chest.
My feet move before my brain does, and I'm standing by the bed, my hand going to the empty glass sitting there. I pick it up, my head screaming at me to put it back down, but instead, I sit on the bed and look down at the glass with the lipstick stain. My fingertips rub over it as I remember handing her the glass in the kitchen. The memories of that night come rushing back like a wave during a storm over and over again. I can't escape it. I close my eyes, hoping to block it out, but all I see is her over me.
Her head was thrown back as she straddled me in the middle of the bed. I look over, seeing that spot where her head was, and even after six months, it's still there. The last time I was in the house was with her. The last time I sat in this bed was the same time I told her that it was a mistake right before I packed my shit and left.
"What the fuck did you do?" I ask myself, hoping to answer my own question, but nothing comes out. The only thing I hear is the sound of the glass crashing into little pieces when it falls from my hand.