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I nod. “I intend to.”
“The club’s going to be opening soon, but I have some paperwork for you.” He motions to the chair. “Take a seat.”
I do as I’m instructed as he walks around, taking a seat across from me at his large desk. He pulls out a folder from the drawer on his right and sets it on the top, sliding it toward me.
“All the paperwork you need to fill out is in there. That would be the first step,” he explains. “The acquisition hasn’t been completed yet, so until we’re able to get into the site, I’d like you to begin shadowing everyone here at the club.”
He starts up his computer and pecks away at the keys before moving on to the next topic.
“Although the restaurants will run differently, a lot of these positions will correlate. You’ll need to know how the waitstaff works with the kitchen and how the kitchen works with the bar. Find the problem areas and start thinking about ways to fix them. Ask the staff for suggestions.”
I pull up my notes in my phone and make a list of things to do.
“As soon as the sale is complete, our next step will be the hiring process. I have a stack of resumes over in that corner,” he says, motioning to an enormous stack. “I’ll need you to go through them and begin conducting interviews. You’ll want to bring Carter in on that since he’ll be managing Le Blanc.”
“Has he been replaced here?”
“Not yet. I’m working that out this week,” he says flippantly, like he has no interest in talking to me about anything more. “Take the paperwork and head home. You can drop it off tomorrow around three and plan to shadow Carter tomorrow night.”
I bite my lower lip, trying to rein in my temper. He’s been so cold since I voiced my demands. What do you expect? I have to get over it. I can’t have my cake and eat it too. It’ll take a bit for this awkwardness to subside. I chose this, so I need to be okay with the small—and hopefully temporary—fallout.
I pull the file toward me and stand. “Thank you, Drew. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I make it three steps before he stops me. “Bailey.”
I turn my head to look at him over my shoulder. “Don’t run out on me again. If we’re going to work together closely, we need to be honest with each other, and running away isn’t how we’re going to handle things.”
My body pivots to look him head-on.
“No more running,” I agree.
Now if we can get back to normal, that would be great too. Though things were never normal between us.
27
Drew
This night won’t end. I have a headache from hell, and Bailey is just about to send me over the edge. She strolled in this afternoon all pissed off, ready for a fight. Not only did she demand that things stay professional between us, but she also compared our moment to one from her past. One she clearly doesn’t want to remember.
I know a little about her past. I know about the accident, but what I don’t know is what happened after that.
From what I gathered, nothing good.
My stomach tightens at the implication.
I don’t know how to feel about the thoughts running through my head right now.
Guilt that I made her feel that way. Sadness for the past I don’t even know the half off.
I can’t deal with the things I’m thinking, so I do what any grown man would do.
I avoid her like the plague by sending her home.
I’m making my rounds in the VIP rooms, rubbing elbows with the high rolling regulars. I grew up with a lot of these people in New York high society. A bunch of spoiled-ass pricks. Not that I have room to talk. The only difference between them and me is I actually like to work for my money. These guys live off their cushy trusts.
Take Edward Wright. His dad is worth hundreds of millions. He started some direct sales company that peddles smoothies. Now you see them sold in malls and kiosks all over the United States. Eddie was a sophomore in college when Daddy hit it big. He immediately dropped his business degree and took up residence on the family yacht. He’s done literally nothing with his life since.
The second room contains a pop princess and an NBA basketball bench warmer. They were all cozied up. Since the paps aren’t allowed in my club, Ms. Bubblegum probably brought her second-rate ballplayer here so nobody knows she’s slumming it.
I approach Reese’s room for the night. The curtains are drawn, so I decide against stopping in. God only knows what I’d walk in on. As I pass, I hear some girl hacking up a lung. I pull back the curtain to see if she’s all right, and the scene that unfolds in front of me renders me speechless.
