by Ashley Munoz
I glanced down at my cell phone; it was now 9:05. Where the heck did five minutes just go? I could feel the heat of confused irritation rising in my chest. I always hated being late, and not knowing the official sign-in procedure here was making me panic. I didn’t want Jimmy thinking that I was irresponsible. I could feel the warmth of panic traveling up my throat. Shit, a hives outbreak? Please God, no.
I walked back down the hallway and glanced around; there was no one at the bar or even in the room. So, I walked behind the bar towards the kitchen doors. I gently pushed them open to a splendor of pristine white and chrome. There was a smaller kitchen area off to my right for prepping food and a commercial kitchen more towards the back.
I crept forward, a little nervous to run into someone I didn't know, and worried that I might have to explain that I actually did work here. Maybe this whole thing was a giant joke and Jimmy was just really vindictive and wanted to play the world's meanest prank on me. I would die of embarrassment if that were true, then I would torch this place to the ground, just for good measure.
I continued creeping forward, hearing voices echoing in the back. I rounded the corner and peeked through the serving window to see Jimmy perched on the huge stainless-steel counter in the middle of the kitchen, swinging his legs back and forth like a little kid. Across from him stood a large man, wearing a white apron. He had a shiny bald head, and had deep blue eyes that made his blond eyebrows stand out. He had tattoos all down his arms and up his neck. He and Jimmy were joking and laughing back and forth, while Jimmy was snacking on something from a small white plate. I walked in a little further and saw several white plates behind the bald man, each with a different kind of pastry sitting on it. My mouth automatically started salivating. I was about to step into the room to introduce myself to the bald baker when I heard my name. I stopped cold right there.
“Ramsey will care, so don’t do it anymore, okay,” Jimmy said to the bald baker man.
What the heck they were talking about? The balding man was rotating his arm, like he was stretching it out, and replied while letting out a loud sigh, “Fine, consider it dead, boss, we won’t do it anymore.”
Curiosity got the better of me and since they were discussing me, it wasn’t like it wasn’t any of my business. I rounded the corner fully and smiled at Jimmy, who stopped swinging his legs when he saw me. The bald man stopped stretching and followed Jimmy's line of sight. I cleared my throat and waved. “Hi, sorry to interrupt you guys, but what exactly won’t I like?”
There I just said it. They could ignore me, but at least they'd know I heard it.
The bald man let out a loud laugh and slammed his hand down on the counter in a playful manner. “So much for clearing it up before the famous Ramsey found out, boss.”
Jimmy turned a little red in the face but recovered easily. He dusted his hands and placed the plate next to him and jumped off the counter. He looked really good, in black dress pants and a white, collared shirt. I felt vastly underdressed. He reached over to the counter with all the plated pastries and grabbed one, then walked towards me and handed it over to me.
“Sorry, Ramsey, I was trying to clear up some spending disagreements with Rav here, before you took over the books. There are some things that I understand these guys do in the kitchen, but I know that it will drive you crazy, so I told him to stop.”
I took the plate from him and picked the scone up, investigating the bite-size treat. There were little crystallized orange twists sprinkled across the top. It was still warm but before I bit into it, I asked Rav, “What kind is this? Looks, uh, interesting.”
Rav grinned. “It’s a new recipe, love… Crystallized orange peel with a Madagascar vanilla glaze.”
I bit into the heavenly triangle and responded, “Holy crap, Rav, if you make these every day, then I don’t care what you do with the books.” I swallowed the perfect piece of heaven and looked at Jimmy, “If Rav made this, then I don’t care what he does.”
Rav gave me a big fat, happy grin then walked towards me, put his arms around me, and lifted me off the ground, like I weighed nothing. “Can I keep her, boss? Better yet, why don’t you keep her, if you know what I mean?” Then he winked at Jimmy.
Real subtle.
I let out a laugh and squirmed until the giant baker man let me go. I finished my scone in an embarrassing amount of bites, then waved at Rav as I followed an eye rolling Jimmy from the kitchen. Once I could breathe again, I caught up with him, then let out a little laugh.
“Sorry, but those scones are powerful negotiating tools. How bad could he be anyway?”
Jimmy peeked at me from over his shoulder with a look that clearly said, “just wait,” then opened his office door and took a seat. He laced his hands behind his head and stretched back as he explained, “Rav and the kitchen guys are all old friends of mine. Either I have known them, or my dad has, so we run things a little differently with them. It’s a mess, and you'll hate how they spend money. Basically, they use their own money, then turn in receipts when and if they remember. Or they'll use the company credit card that I gave them, but forget that they are using it when buying their personal groceries, and then must turn in receipts for that. Or they will all go out to lunch together and try to use the kitchen budget to cover it. I usually let it slide, but I was telling Rav that he needs to follow our original policy, which was following a budget, making the menu, planning the ingredients, writing it down, then taking the company credit card on company time to go get the groceries. Or order through a larger vendor, but either way, what he’s currently doing isn't going to cut it anymore.”
I gulped and could feel a small bead of sweat forming on my brow. These guys were monsters. Who on earth conducted business like that? I would have to go unfriend my new friend by telling him that there was no way in hell that he could keep doing that. It was literally any accountant’s worst nightmare. I noticed a small smile started covering Jimmy’s face, who must have picked up on my panic. He leaned forward and said, “Told ya. How do those scones taste now?”
I placed my hand on my throat, remembering the sweet taste of throwing caution to the wind, and said, “Yeah, there is no way they can keep doing that. I will go crazy and probably end up making everyone hate me. I don’t want to be hated, Jimmy.” I said the last part a little panicked.
I sat back, and Jimmy finished his little laughter fest, and then started with my first-day introductions. He showed me the “office” that I was already familiar with; it was an awkward feeling to be back in that chair and not get a little queasy. Jimmy handed me form after form to fill out, made a copy of my social security card, took a voided check from me for the direct deposit, gave me a key, and then went over their “Open for Business” times versus their “Open to the Public” time.
"We can do whatever we want, wherever we want until ten thirty a.m., at which point we start getting ready for the public. We officially open at eleven a.m." Jimmy started typing something on his computer.
"Why do you open so early, if your peak hours aren't until after five?" I asked, a little curious to the workings of a fancy bar like Jimmy's. He smiled from over his computer,
"We get several business meetings that take place here. Mimosas and scones are more popular of a combo than you might think."
"Interesting. Well, what should I be doing during that time or, better yet, where's my office that I'll be in?" I asked, while crossing my legs, then uncrossed them as soon as I remembered how tight my jeans were. Holy crap, I needed bigger clothes.
Jimmy stopped typing, and his eyes jumped to mine, then darted back down as a slow blush crept into his face.
"Actually, about your office. You don't exactly have one," he finished, while grabbing for his coffee and taking a large drink.
I leaned forward. "Ok, so where exactly should I go during open business hours?"
Jimmy sat back and lounged in his chair while throwing his arms open. "We are going to share this office. I know it's not much, b
ut you'll have whatever you need and up until eleven, you can spread out anywhere you'd like."
The idea of getting to spread out with my work on the back patio that I vaguely saw through the back windows played in my head, and I found it agreeable. Jimmy must have sensed my acceptance because he grinned and continued.
“There’s another part of this job that I haven’t covered with you yet. You’ll be splitting time between here and my dad’s bar.” He paused, perhaps evaluating my reaction. “And I’ll also need you to help me as a personal assistant. But it won’t be much, I promise. I just know that you’ll get bored once all the books are balanced and organized.”
I was so focused on the Sip N Sides part of this conversation that I didn't really care about the other part, and doing PA work didn't bother me; it was just one more thing I could add to my resume. I had forgiven Theo and invited him to my barbeque, but we still hadn't talked about anything, just the two of us. I was still a little mad at the guy, but that wasn't Jimmy's problem, and this was my job, so I would get over it and be professional.
Jimmy gave me a more detailed walk through of the bar with him. Once we headed outside, I fell in love. There were stringed lights all along the back pergolas, and a few fire pits scattered the patio, along with cushioned seats and wood tables. They framed a large dance floor that was placed in the middle of the outdoor space. I loved it. The changing trees offered shade and the beauty of Illinois surrounded the area, like a fantasy or a dream. I knew, at nighttime, it had to be magical. I would definitely dub this as my office space.
Once the tour was done, we walked back to his office. I took a seat, a little star-gazed from how beautiful everything was.
"So, this all sounds good, and I'm fine with sharing the office or finding my own space, but do I clock in somewhere each day, or is it electronic?”
Jimmy gave me a quizzical look. “You are salary. So, if you really don't want to come in, you don't have to. I would like you to come in, though, so if there are any questions or anything to clarify, then you are here on the premises.”
I was salary!
I must have lit up like a Christmas tree; this was the perfect scenario, since mom was so sick. I could still take her to appointments, and even be home with her if I needed to. Jimmy must have seen my wheels turning because he gently spoke up and said, “Yeah, I figured it might help with your mom and stuff.”
I smiled up at him and responded, “Yes, it's perfect. Thank you for thinking about that. I appreciate it so much.”
He just nodded, but had a serious look on his face, then he asked, “How is she doing, by the way? I didn’t get a chance to ask yesterday, without her hearing or it being weird.”
“She's a fighter,” I replied, smiling just thinking about her. “She has her good days and her bad days, she has her sick days and her sad days, but she also has her happy days, like yesterday ended up being for her. She originally was only given six months, but that was six months ago, and her new diagnosis says up to a year, so we are just trying to be grateful for the time we have.”
I swallowed the lump that was forming in my throat. The air was thick, and I just wanted to talk about anything else.
Jimmy must have sensed it, as he turned around and pulled out a large white box and placed it between us on the desk. “This is your laptop. You will use this for all your accounting and PA needs.” I stood up, rotating the box to look at the specs on the side. While I was pulling off the tape and other things to free my new toy, Jimmy spoke up again, “By the way, I know it’s hard to talk about, and I don’t ever mean to push or to pry, but I'm here if you ever need to talk about it, okay?”
I looked over at him and couldn't help but give him a smile that spoke louder than my words could. It was one of those smiles that we women have to be careful with because it’s not merely conveying our thanks or appreciation, but reflects the deep part of our souls that might show the more intense feelings we have as well. Mine, I'm sure reflected that I was a little more than infatuated with how sweet Jimmy was being. I tried to correct it quickly and hoped that he sensed my appreciation as platonic. But maybe, if I was lucky, he could read my deep craving for another one of those amazing scones.
The rest of the day flew by, telling jokes and laughing with Jimmy, and it felt like I wasn’t even at work. I met the rest of the staff, and instantly fell in love with who Jimmy had selected to be on his team; they were a great group of people. I charged and started configuring my new work computer. While that started, I took a quick glance at Jimmy’s computer, and the books, to see what I was up against. It was rough, but not horrible. I already had some ideas on what I would do to tighten things up and how I could help.
Before I knew it, it was five, and the bar was busy and full of people. I figured that would be my end time, although I never did officially ask. I was eager to get back to my mom and cook her dinner. During my earlier lunch break, I busied myself with finding new recipes to try, since I did nothing to prep for the week over the weekend. I decided to leave for the day, and as I was slipping my brand-new work laptop into its accompanying leather bag, Jimmy showed up at the door, leaning his large shoulder against the frame. As soon as he saw me packing up, he looked a little defeated.
“Oh, you're leaving?” he asked, as I pulled my blazer on.
I felt a little strange; he looked so hopeless, like he didn’t want me to go. But it was five p.m., and nine to five was a respectable work day. “Uh, yeah, I figured I would head out since its five. Is that okay?”
“Of course. But I thought maybe Rav could make us some grilled chicken, and we could talk about how your official first day went?”
Oh damn. How did Mom know? Butterflies were fluttering in my chest. Of course I wanted to have dinner with him, but I had already self-talked my way out of any romantic situations, and going to dinner would just confuse our relationship. I cleared my throat and looked down at my shoes as I kept fixing my jacket. “Uh, I would love to normally, but I really should get back to my mom tonight. Raincheck?”
I was a total sucker; I could have just said that we shouldn’t go to dinner because he was my boss and I was his employee. Although, I did happen to read the employee handbook, or rather, I specifically went out of my way and looked up ‘Romance in the Workplace,’ on page twelve. Anyway, I didn’t see anything in it against Jimmy dating one of his employees. Still, it could complicate things, and I was way too attracted to Jimmy for it to not get complicated.
He smiled and put his hand behind his neck as he said, “Of course, yeah. Actually, why don't you grab some dinner from the kitchen on your way home? I'm sure your mom would love Rav’s cooking.”
I loved that idea. “Okay. I will, if that's okay? I would really like to share this place with her.”
He smiled again, but his smile looked different, it looked...shit...seductive, with the way his eyes lit up and the corners of his mouth curved. He came forward and leaned into my space. In what felt like slow motion, he brought his hand up next to my chin, then reached up to my neck, and softly pulled my hair out that was caught in the jacket collar. I swear, time stopped, or maybe I was sucked into a black hole. His fingers grazed the top of my exposed shoulder.
Once my hair was free from the collar, he gave the curls a little tug on the ends, while that promiscuous grin stayed on his face. I got goose bumps, but I rejected my body’s whole urge to shudder with delight. I stared up at him, wide-eyed from the shock of him being so close. His expression was saying, “Let’s get dinner and do more than eat.” He was being sweet all day with his kind words, but now I knew what was really on his mind.
Shit. Shit. Shit. He was practically a big fat marker, coloring all over my lines and not caring how much ink he was getting everywhere. I cleared my throat and squeaked out a “Thank you.”
I shifted my weight to my toes a little bit, and he thankfully stepped to the side. If he hadn’t, I might have stayed glued to the floor all night because I didn’t have the guts t
o ask him to physically move out of my way.
He walked behind me, putting his hand on the small of my back, and said, so close to my ear that I could feel his lips, “Let me walk you to your car. This place can get a little crazy in the evening.”
Not minding the feel of his hand on my body, I let him walk with me to the parking lot. I was so nervous that I kept asking about his kids just to fill in the silence. I asked when Jasmine’s dance program was, and when I might be able to take her to the spa, and I asked when Sammy had his next soccer game. By the time I was at my car door, Jimmy was still finishing some story about Sammy and soccer.
I wanted to stay with him, to have dinner with him, to get to know him, but I couldn’t mix our signals up or lead him on. I had to focus on my mom; my whole life was a mess right now and I had no business bringing anyone into it. I pushed away the warm sensation in my chest at being near Jimmy, and forced myself to wave good night and climb into my SUV. I drove away, feeling conflicted and even more jittery than I had at the beginning of the day.
Once I turned towards the exit, I saw two men on motorcycles, wearing leather jackets, heading towards Jimmy's. I was curious because these guys didn't look simple and classy, like Jimmy. They looked rough around the edges. Both had long hair and full beards, and they too didn't wear helmets. Their leather jackets had patches all over the place. Something settled in my stomach, like a rock. It felt like fear or dread. Was Jimmy still part of the biker gang?
Uncertainty churned in my mind and warred with my nerves. It was like a big warning alarm, screaming, “Danger, Danger!”
I needed to listen to it because as much as I liked Jimmy, I didn't actually know him at all. And I didn't need to do anything that put my mother's life at risk, more than it already was.
Right after Ramsey drove off, I heard the sound of two Harley's making their way down the offramp. Shit. It was probably nothing, but I knew better than to assume that, especially after Davis' call. I walked over to my bike, away from the entrance of my bar and my customers, and waited for whoever was coming towards me. Sure enough, two sets of headlights made their way into the complex, accompanied by the sound of two loud engines, roaring as they drew closer.
