“You’re doing business with Sir Fuckface?” I’m indignant all over again.
“I didn’t know who he was when he placed the order.” Her brow knits. “Also, I think I ran into him a year ago or so when he was looking for space in town. I was with Banks. He knows him.”
“You should have warned me then! Both of you!”
“Warned you that a year into the future you’d rave about his D-game?” She nods to my new workplace. “Go behave, my friend.”
“Fine,” I huff, “but I’m not delivering the lavender.”
“That’ll show him,” Ripley teases, then locks up her bike and walks into the scene of the crime with me.
11
FIRST DAY JITTERS
SAWYER
“You doing okay, boss?” Zuri asks with a tilt of her head.
As I click out of the reservation program, having just checked in Dandelion, the Great Dane mix—owned by Salma, who runs the gourmet market around the corner—I look up, meeting her eyes, as I lie. “Yeah. Definitely.”
Her expression is doubtful. “If you say so. You seem a little…off. Different than when I met you,” she says, but then smiles brightly. “But I bet it’s just first-day jitters. Don’t worry. I know everyone in town, and I’ve got your back.”
Well, shit. I hardly deserve the support of my manager. And she’s reading me right. I am a little off, but it’s not first-day jitters. “That’s nice of you to say,” I say evenly, because I don’t want to let on to an employee that I’m stewing over that ridiculously uncomfortable encounter earlier.
Maybe I was a dick to Chloe. But the whole thing freaked me out.
Except…
Nope. No excuses. She didn’t deserve that reaction.
Fact is, I’ve been up in my head since she walked in. Seeing her was a shock to the system, to say the least. Especially since my father always taught me not to bring personal stuff into work. That was his mantra when we ran our management consulting firm together back in the city.Stay within the lines, be responsible, and be the boss, not the friend.And look what I did. I brought a metric ton of personal stuff into the workspace without even intending to. I’ve never mixed business with pleasure. That’s the first rule of management consulting, and I broke it without realizing it. I drag a hand across my beard, wishing I knew how to fix this mess as I return to the computer.
“Maybe have a slice of coconut bread to cheer you up,” Zuri says, helping herself to one from the box. “This is delish. I bet Chloe brought these in. That’s so her.”
I wince. Yup. It’s clear. I’m the dick.
Don’t even need to call Juliet and ask her opinion. Don’t need to text Rachel and inquire as to what to do. Both of my sisters would replace my shaving cream with mayonnaise—and rightfully so—after what I said this morning to Chloe.
A co-worker.
The pastry gift is just that—a pastry gift for everyone. I took it the wrong way.
But I don’t even know when she’ll be back, or honestly,ifshe’s coming back. She’s been gone for twenty-four minutes, but who’s counting? And in those twenty-four minutes, I’ve answereda call from the San Francisco location, texted back the manager in Evergreen Falls with the password to our reservations system, and checked in four dogs here. Also, Zuri’s arrived, so we touched base about the day ahead. Behind me in the small dog play area is JJ, the Jack Russell mix who’s wrestling with Baxter, while Dandelion peacefully lounges in the sun on some cushions in the big dog section that’s right next to the counter.
When Salma dropped him off, she asked me if I wanted a sandwich today from her store. I ordered one for lunch, but now I wonder if that’ll make me look like a bigger dick, since I didn’t get Zuri’s order or Chloe’s.
I’m not sure I deserve a sandwich. I suspect Chloe would say the same thing. But I won’t be working much out front, just the first few days probably, so maybe I won’t even have to deal with her. That’ll be for the best. I can keep the necessary professional distance. Return to the boundaries I always respect in the workplace. Should be easy enough. I’ll be in the back office a lot, running operations, making sure we’re hitting our targets on baths, nail trims, daycare, and walks. I’m only up front today since I wanted to say hi to the clients and introduce myself.
I’m formulating what to say to Chloe when the door swings open once again.
Maybe it’s her and I can grab a quick sec in her training room and say I’m sorry, then move the hell on. But the woman who walks in next is familiar in a different way—I ran into her about a year ago when I was in town scoping out space here for eventual expansion.
“Hey, Ripley,” I say.
The blonde smiles approvingly. “Good memory.”
“How’s Banks?” I ask, since I’m friendly with her boyfriend, but before Ripley can answer, the woman who tried to be nice to me this morning strides in, smiling like she wants to win a contest for a local dentist marketing campaign.
