It was lunchtime on a Saturday, the day after what should have been an exciting relaunch. There were opening-weekend specials available and a free bottomless nonalcoholic beverage offered with each meal. Suzie asked if she could get him a drink, and he ordered a glass of their house red.
“Did you work for the previous owner?” he asked before she could leave to fulfill his order.
“Yes,” the woman responded. “I’ve been working here for about three years.”
“And is this your normal Saturday lunchtime crowd?”
Suzie cast a glance around the room, and her smile faded slightly.
“No. We’re usually run off our feet on Saturdays. People haven’t welcomed the change as much as we were hoping they would.”
“How was your opening night?”
The woman looked uncomfortable and shrugged. Recognizing that she might feel gossiping would be disloyal, he told a slight untruth to set her mind at ease. “I’m a friend of Tina’s.” Well, he had been. Once. “And Libby’s brother-in-law.” At least that part was true. For now.
She still looked uncertain, but her smile took on a bit more warmth.
“Opening night wasn’t great. We had less than half of our usual Friday-night crowd.”
Shit. That was disheartening to hear.
“Uh. Is Libby in the kitchen? I just arrived in town and haven’t had a chance to see her yet.”
“Yes. Would you like me to get her for you?”
“Would it be all right if I surprised her?” Suzie hesitated, and Harris dazzled her with his best smile. “I’ll tell her it was my idea.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t do any harm. Why don’t you go and say hello while I get your wine?”
“Thanks, Suzie. You’re a star.” The woman blushed when he winked at her, and he got up and headed toward the silver double doors leading into the kitchen.
Libby had her back to the door, but her tall, slender figure was instantly recognizable. He smiled affectionately as he watched her issue brisk commands to her subordinates. They all hastened to do her bidding, comfortable with her natural leadership. She was completely in her element, and Harris loved watching her like this. So confident and self-possessed . . . the complete opposite of the heartbroken woman she had been the last time he had seen her.
She turned unexpectedly and froze when she caught sight of him, her face reflecting her shock at finding him in her domain. His smile faded and he cleared his throat, uncertain of his welcome.
“Hey, Bug. I’ve missed you.”
Tina had briefly spoken with Libby earlier about her friend’s after-work encounter with Greyson Chapman, but Libby hadn’t been very forthcoming. She merely said that she had told him to leave. The lack of information, as well as the cold tone in Libby’s voice, had disturbed Tina, but she hadn’t pushed, afraid that probing too much might hurt or upset Libby even further.
Besides, Tina had other things to worry about, like the fact that it was another disappointing service. Tina—coward that she was—had retreated to her office rather than witness another dismal turnout. Charlie was there, but the teen was doing homework, and other than occasionally checking on the peacefully sleeping Clara, she was wholly absorbed with that task.
Tina was grateful to be left alone. She had her laptop opened on the desk in front of her but was checking her emails, surfing the internet, doing everything she could to avoid the bookkeeping. She told herself she would have a clearer idea after the lunch service anyway. There was no point in doing it now.
She was only delaying the inevitable, she knew that . . . but playing solitaire and opening junk mail was a vastly more appealing alternative right now.
The office door swung inward, and a laughing Libby entered the small room with Harris directly behind her. The tiny space immediately felt claustrophobic and airless after Harris shifted his six-foot-plus bulk through the door.
Libby’s smile faded when she spotted Tina, and her perfectly shaped, full lips formed an O of surprise.
“Tina, I thought you’d be on the floor,” she said blankly, and Tina cleared her throat awkwardly. She should be out there, ensuring that things were running smoothly, but quite frankly she felt superfluous and a little out of her element. Thandiwe and Ricardo, their service manager—or maître d’, as Libby preferred to call him—had things well in hand, and what could possibly go wrong when they had only a handful of patrons?
She had fled to avoid feeling like a failure and, worse, appearing incompetent and foolish in front of the staff.
“I had to do some accounting. And I’m drafting an email to the newspaper,” she said softly, angling the screen of her laptop downward so that they wouldn’t see that she had cat memes up on the screen.
She had intended to send an email to the newspaper to apologize and attempt to explain the mix-up. But she couldn’t think of a way to word the message without seeming like an unprofessional idiot. She would have to bite the bullet eventually; they needed to maintain a friendly relationship with the paper for advertising purposes. But Tina rationalized that it was Saturday, and they would probably only see the email on Monday anyway. So why not send it on Monday?