Maddie hated to admit it, but he was probably right. Judy had been a strict dictator since she’d started that morning. She’d even highlighted in yellow the section of her handwritten, stapled-together employee handbook that stated the zero-tolerance policy for haircut errors the first month. But still, she had to try. “You did too fall asleep. And I’m not getting up until you fix this.”
The man was eerily quiet, staring at her with those determined, hazel eyes. Panic flooded Maddie’s resolve. What if he called the cops or something? Could she get arrested for sitting on someone’s car? A jail record would not help her case in getting custody of Kyle.
Her stomach twisted when he walked to the passenger-side of the car and opened the door.
“Get in.”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I said get in.”
The man must think she’d been born a hundred years ago. “I don’t even know you. I am not getting into a car with a strange man. You could be a rapist, an ax murderer, a—”
“I’m going to call the cops in about five seconds and report you for vandalism if you don’t get yourself in this car. I have an idea that may help both of us.”
Maddie weighed her choices. Getting in the car could be the equivalent of suicide. Staying on the hood of the car would get her arrested. And giving up … that was just not an option.
She hopped off, stepped around him, and climbed in the car. He slammed the door and examined the hood slowly, his palm rubbing the spot where she’d sat, before plopping into the driver’s seat.
“Buckle up.” He spat out the terse command, making her wonder if he was a policeman in disguise. Just in case, she obeyed.
When he peeled out of the parking spot, she breathed a sigh of relief. He was definitely not a cop. A few minutes later he pulled into a restaurant parking lot. The sign read, “The Sandwich Emporium.”
Not the most original name given its location in Sandwich, Illinois, but the front looked quaint and inviting, its gabled roof and stone façade giving a whisper of welcome.
Maddie ventured a look at Reuben. His hands still gripped the steering wheel, and he stared straight ahead. Should she interrupt him?
After a minute of silence, she couldn’t take it anymore. “So, was your idea to buy me dinner as restitution?”
He sat back in the seat and glanced at her. “Would that work for you?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so, and no, that wasn’t my idea. I own the Emporium.”
Maddie raised her eyebrows. “Really? You’re awfully young to have your own restaurant.”
His jaw clenched again, and Maddie could almost hear his teeth grinding. If he kept it up he’d need dentures by the time he was thirty.
“My dad left it to me when he died two years ago. And I’m not some young college kid. I’m twenty-seven and have been running this business for the last two years.”
He was older than she’d guessed. “I’m sorry to hear about your dad.”
“Thank you.” His voice was softer, less harsh. “Now do you want a job or not?”
“Is that what you’re doing? Offering me a job?”
He shrugged. “It’s not glamorous, but I’d been thinking about adding another waitress anyway. If you want it, the job’s yours.”
Reuben closed the door to his office and headed straight to his desk. He jerked open the top drawer and rummaged around until he found the bottle of ibuprofen, then tossed two pills into his mouth and washed them down with the bottle of water he kept in the mini fridge beside his desk.
For the millionth time in the last two hours, he questioned his sanity. He hadn’t planned to hire another waitress anytime soon, although another one would be nice during the busier summer months coming up. Maybe he should have told Judy that he’d been partially to blame for the haircut mishap. He didn’t remember falling asleep. But it was entirely possible.
He picked up the phone and started to dial the salon’s phone number, but set the handset back on the hook a moment later. Better to see how Madison worked out first, then give her an option. Yes, that would work. Then maybe he could salvage his pride and his conscience.
He could almost hear his mother’s lecture on pride going before a fall, but brushed the nagging voice away.
Sinking into his black leather office chair, he leaned back and closed his eyes. Five minutes. That was all he needed. Five minutes of quiet and no interruptions. The voice message light on his phone beckoned him, but it could wait until tomorrow. Probably his lawyer with more red tape to cut through or, worse yet, his accountant.
Sleep crowded in and he willingly gave in to it, but the opening and slamming of his office door jolted him awake.
“Who is she?” Livy stood inside the door, hands on her hips.
Reuben had no desire for this conversation today. He’d hoped she wouldn’t stop by on her day off. “A new waitress I hired.”
“Reub, you realize as manager that it’s my job to do the hiring?”
That was the one thing she could say that would entice him to fight today. He’d promoted her a month ago to general manager, as the duties of overseeing all three restaurants as well as the planned new ones were getting too much for him. Since then, she’d gone from being a compliant employee to thinking she owned the place.
Considering they’d dated on and off, currently on, since high school, he let her get away with it most of the time. “Livy, you may be a manager, but I’m still the owner. I can hire a waitress if I want to.”
“Did you do a background check? Call her references?”
No way did he want to explain the circumstances now. Livy would be furious. “She checked out just fine.” A partial truth. If Judy had hired her, she had to be safe. That was enough check for him.
“Fine. What restaurant did she work at last?”
Maybe he could have asked a few more questions…. “Livy, can we talk about this later? I have a splitting headache and I need to get back to the dining room.”
Her face relaxed, and she walked behind him and began to massage his shoulders. Much better.
“I’m sorry. We can talk about it later. By the way, I like your haircut.”
“Thanks. I, uh, wanted something different.” Not a huge lie. The new style was growing on him.
Livy dug her thumbs into the nape of his neck. Sweet relief. “Well, I’m glad you finally listened to me. You look so much more handsome and clean cut. I’m not sure I would have gone that short, though.”
Not like he’d had a choice. He patted her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll just let you come with me next time then.”
“I’ll come with you if you go somewhere a little more classy.”
“What, is Judy’s place not good enough for you?”
She huffed but continued to kneed his upper back with her thumbs. “She charges a whole twenty bucks for a cut. Your hair is part of your businessman image. You need to see it as an investment. I was thinking a few highlights too.”
“I’m not spending that kind of money on my hair, Livs.” She’d already gotten him to fork out way too much on that stupid BMW, which was looking more and more like a really dumb decision these days. Although he did admit it was fun to drive.
Livy flipped her fake blonde hair to the side, ignoring his comment. “Have you thought any more about what we talked about last week?”
Reuben searched his brain to try to remember that conversation. The only thing he could come up with was her suggestion to try a new vendor for the linen tablecloths and napkins. “Yes, I have. I think it has merit, but I’m waiting on some more price quotes first.”
The hands on his shoulders stilled. “Price quotes? What are you talking about?”
“Uh, linens?”
She walked around and leaned a curvy hip against the side of his desk, her mouth turned down. “What do linens have to do with our future?”
Oh, that conversation. The one he wasn’t ready to have yet. “I’m sorry, Li
vs. I’m just completely in over my head with these new restaurants. Opening two at the same time might have been the stupidest decision of my life. My brain is fried past that.”
Livy’s lips tipped to a half smile that didn’t extend to her eyes. “I understand. You’re stressed. We’ll talk about it later.”
Reuben nodded to her. “What are you doing here anyway? It’s your day off.”
“Just wanted to see if you could do dinner and a movie tonight. We’re both always working; figured it’d be fun to get out for a while. The restaurant can survive a night without you.”
Fun? He couldn’t remember what that word meant anymore. “Sorry, but I’ve got a ton to do here. And I wouldn’t be good company, trust me.”
She leaned forward, pressed a kiss against his lips then turned to leave. “No biggy. Just thought I’d check.”
When she reached the door, she looked back at him and smiled. “Don’t work too hard. And keep an eye out on that new girl. I talked to her for a minute before I came in, and she seems a little rough.”
“She’ll be fine, but thanks for letting me know.”
The door shut, much quieter this time, and Reuben sat back and surveyed his desk, or what he remembered to be a desk underneath all the paper. He had to get a handle on this, and fast.
If he couldn’t manage things with three restaurants, what was he going to do with five?
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. “Come in.” Tilly, the head waitress, peeked around the door. “Boss, we have a little problem out here.”
“What’s wrong?”
“The new girl. She dumped a plate of food on Mayor Ryan’s lap.”
3
Sir, I am so sorry. Let me help you with that.” Maddie moved her hands to pick up the sandwich, then realized doing so would put her hands in a rather, uh, personal position.
“No, no, don’t worry. I’ve got it.” The gracious gentleman picked up the bread and set it on the tray she held, then peeled the slice of rare beef off his black-dress-pant-clad thigh. The tea had done the worst damage, splattering all over his lap, making the poor man look as if he had bladder-control issues.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a frowning Reuben approach. He jerked his thumb toward his office, but Maddie wouldn’t cower, even though she hated being a waitress and berated herself for not mentioning it to Reuben earlier. She’d tried it once after high school, but had been fired two days later. Her hands might be steady with a pair of scissors, but they were useless carrying a tray of food.
Dummy-her had thought maybe, given that two years had passed, her food handling skills had improved. Given the prime rib and iced tea she’d just deposited in the customer’s lap, she’d assumed wrong.
Someone shoved a pile of cloth napkins into her free hand, and she looked up to see Reuben, his eyes as hard as stale bread. Fighting her reflex to defend herself, she turned away from him and handed a few of the white linens to the customer. “Sir, here are some napkins. I am so sorry.”
“No problem, young lady. Accidents happen. Don’t you worry.”
God, bless that man, will you? Maddie blotted up the tea on the floor until a hand brushed against her shoulder.
She looked up and saw Reuben nodding toward the kitchen. “I’ll finish this. Why don’t you go get another drink and sandwich?” The command was forced through a clamped jaw with only a semblance of civility, for the sake of the customer, no doubt.
Maddie pushed herself up from the floor and handed him the rag, even though the floor was almost clean. Just like a man to offer to help after the dirty work was done. “I’ll get right on that.”
She rushed into the kitchen and yelled out the order to be remade pronto. While she waited, she refilled a glass with unsweetened tea and set it on a tray.
Minutes later, the cook handed her a plate with the new sandwich. Maddie picked up the tray and turned toward the door, only to have it taken from her grasp by her boss, his square jaw as hard as stone.
“I’ll take it. Get in my office. Now.” His voice came out in a low grumble.
Maddie took a breath, ready to argue, but decided against it. Sitting in the office alone would give her time to think up a good reason why he shouldn’t fire her. If not, then she contemplated calling the Guinness Book of World Records. She was sure she topped the charts of how many jobs could be lost in the shortest amount of time.
She hung her head low, hoping to avoid stares, as she walked past the drink station to the other side of the restaurant and into his office, shutting the door behind her. She smoothed her apron, a black number with THE SANDWICH EMPORIUM written in bold, white letters.
Leaning against the door, she squeezed her eyes closed and prayed.
“Please God, don’t let him fire me. I know I messed this up royally and should have been honest at the get-go, but I really thought I could do it if I tried hard enough. Apparently I’m just a big screw-up like everyone thinks.”
She opened her eyes, knowing God was probably standing up in heaven, hands on his hips, just shaking his head at her too. Well, he could join the club.
Reuben’s office was nowhere near as fancy as she’d pictured it. Given his expensive wheels, she imagined a pricy executive desk, cappuccino machine in the corner, and money all but dripping from the walls. Instead, the desk screamed 1950s with its thick, vanilla–ice-cream colored metal and a matching five-foot high filing cabinet against the back wall. Corny motivational posters lined one wall shouting “EXCELLENCE,” “FOCUS,” and “TEAMWORK.”
The only new looking piece of furniture was a black leather office chair.
Her new boss was a puzzle. One she had no intention of solving.
Behind his desk were various awards for The Emporium hanging on the wall as well as diplomas sporting the name Reuben E. Callahan in bold letters. An MBA from some uppity school in Chicago. Figured that Reuben would be all hip on college.
Maddie had been lucky to get her GED and finish cosmetology school.
She moved to his desk and picked up a picture of Reuben cozying up with a tall blonde, the same one who’d been here not five minutes earlier. She’d walked into the restaurant like she owned the place and immediately asked Tilly what was going on.
The door behind her opened, and Maddie shrieked, almost dropping the frame.
“Careful, Miss Accident-Prone.” Reuben shut the door and rescued the picture from her trembling hands. “Would hate to add to your list of disasters for the day.”
She bristled. “Watch where you walk. I might accidentally step on your foot with my heel.”
He set the picture down, leaned against the desk, and glanced at her feet. “You’re wearing tennis shoes, Madison. I think I could handle it.”
She glanced down at the scuffed Nikes she’d gotten from Goodwill and grimaced. Where were some spiked heels when she needed them? “What, you don’t think I could still inflict damage?”
Reuben shook his head. “Oh, no doubt you could.”
Despite her good senses, Maddie became aware of Reuben’s close proximity. His cologne smelled spicy, but not overwhelming like her father’s used to be when he all but bathed in Old Spice.
In an effort to create distance, she took a step back and moved to sit down in the chair, only to have Reuben grasp her arms and pull her back up.
Indignation coursed through her as she pulled away from him. “What? I can’t sit down either?”
He shook his head. “Not unless you want to fall on your backside.”
Maddie glanced behind her to see the chair a good foot farther back than she’d guessed. She stepped back again, felt for the chair, and sat down without incident. A good shower would help rid her of the grimy feeling of having a man’s hands on her again, even if it was just her arms. A mouth full of chocolate would numb the embarrassment.
Reuben walked around the desk and sat in the swanky office chair. “Livy asked me if I checked your references.”
“Obviously you didn
’t. And who’s Livy?”
“Sorry. Olivia Sanderson is my, uh, girlfriend, and also General Manager at this location.”
An “aha” light bulb popped on in Maddie’s head. The dirty look that had been thrown her way as the woman left made sense now. “So that’s why she wasn’t happy to see me here. You were encroaching on her turf.”
Reuben’s jaw twitched, a now familiar sign that he was irritated. “No, I’m owner of The Emporium and have every right to hire you. But, she’s right. I was a little hasty. Have you ever worked in a restaurant?”
“Once.” An honest answer.
“And what’d you do there?”
“I was a waitress.” Maddie bit her lip. She was on shaky ground between truth and, well, nontruth.
“For how long?”
There was the question she hoped to avoid. “Does it matter? Obviously waitressing isn’t my forte. But I could be hostess, bus tables. You name it.” Her speech reeked of desperation, but considering she was living out of her car, a job was a must. She’d do anything—well, almost anything—to secure one.
“I don’t need a hostess or a busser. What I need is a waitress.” The jingle of the office phone interrupted. He glanced at her for only a moment before picking up the handset. “Reuben speaking.”
There was a pause, then he began shuffling through papers on his desk. “Yes, I have the quote right here. Livy and I were just talking about the linens earlier, in fact. Just a minute.”
Reuben stood up and opened a file drawer behind him and flipped through the most unorganized stacks of paper she’d ever seen. From her viewpoint, it looked like the papers had been stuffed into hanging file folders at random, some standing straight up and others crinkled from being squashed in the drawer.
When Reuben pulled out a wad of papers and dropped them on the desk, she muffled a laugh. Given the dark eyes that glanced her way, the giggle hadn’t helped her case.
While he rummaged through paperwork, Maddie’s eyes swept over the chaos and landed on a piece of paper on the corner of his desk.
Sandwich, With a Side of Romance Page 2
