“I need something that isn’t on tonight’s menu made, probably for about seven o’clock.”
“Sure thing, Rush. Whatta ya need?” Fred, the head chef asked. He’d been my first hire when I took over the place five years ago.
“Salmon Oscar. Just like you used to make at McCormick and Schmick’s.”
He pointed a pair of tongs in his hand at me and smiled. “You got it. Whatever you’re in the mood for.”
“It’s actually not for me. But I appreciate it. I’ll probably just order a burger to eat later.”
“Hot date?”
“It’s my mom’s birthday. She’ll be here in a little while.”
Fred winked. “I’ll make it better than I made it when I worked at McCormick and Schmick’s, then.”
I figured I’d head upstairs to section off a little area for my mom to paint before she got here. Thursdays were busy, but usually more so after the dinner rush ended. By then, the sunset would be long gone, and she wasn’t a late-night person anyway.
Climbing the stairs two at a time with a cushioned indoor chair in my hand, I hit the rooftop and froze. We hadn’t opened yet, but my staff was busy setting up tables and stocking the outdoor bar. Everyone bustled around getting ready, except for my bartender. Rhys. Instead of working, he had his forearms resting on the bar while he flirted with a woman. And not just any woman. The smiling asshole was standing there flirting with my girl.
Fury pumped through my veins as I stood there watching. Rhys said something I couldn’t hear, and Gia threw her head back laughing. Fuck. She was so beautiful when she smiled.
As if she sensed me watching her, Gia’s head turned and our eyes caught. She straightened her spine and jutted her chin out, almost daring me to do something about whatever I’d just walked out to see.
She isn’t even on tonight. What the fuck is she doing here?
It took every bit of willpower I had in me to not walk over there and punch the little peckerhead she was talking to in the face. But somehow I managed to control myself. Taking a deep breath, I didn’t acknowledge her. Instead, I went about my own business. I pulled a table over to the corner that had the best sunset views, stuck a reserved sign on it, and then set up a comfortable chair so my mom would have a place to paint.
When I was done, I yelled over to the bartender who was now enemy number one. “This is reserved for tonight. If anyone sits here or takes that chair, you’re fired.”
I didn’t wait for an answer.
Back downstairs, I put my anger to use, bellowing at my staff to move their asses. They looked at me like I was a ticking time bomb, although with the insane amount of rage I felt in my chest, I wasn’t quite sure they were that off base.
Needing to calm down, I stomped toward the bar, poured myself a shot of whiskey, and knocked it back before heading outside for a cigarette. The smoke soothed the fire in my throat when it should have fanned the flame.
I smelled her before I heard her voice. Lost in my head, I hadn’t even noticed Gia open or close the door behind me. “Hey. There you are. Is everything okay?”
“Fine,” I clipped out and inhaled again deeply until the ember tip of my cigarette turned a bright shade of orange.
“I wasn’t trying to stop Rhys from working, if that’s what pissed you off. I carried up a few bottles of rum, knowing there is a drink special on the menu with rum in it tonight.”
I responded in a more bitter tone than I’d intended. “Why are you here?”
“I’m working tonight. I guess Carla didn’t tell you? We switched tonight for Saturday night because she had something to do.”
My face was blank. “No. She didn’t tell me. Why the fuck would anyone tell me anything around here? I only own the damn place.”
“You’re in a mood. Do you want to talk about it?”
“No, Gia. I don’t want to talk about it. I just want all of my staff to go about their business and keep the hell out of mine. Is that so fucking hard to do?”
She blinked a few times, her face looked like I’d just physically slapped her. “No. That’s not so hard to do, boss. Forgive me if I overstepped and gave a shit because you looked like you might be upset.” She turned to leave, stopping as she opened the door. “It won’t happen again.”My mom showed up at six o’clock. I was talking to a DJ who stopped by to discuss the upcoming Fourth of July party I’d hired him for, when I saw her out of the corner of my eye. She smiled spotting me, and it was the first time I felt my shoulders loosen enough to breathe comfortably today.