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“Can’t we just tell them to go away and only see the ones you think are worthy of the position?”
“Who knows, there might be one in the bunch that’s good, that will work for us. If you decide to not hire them then at least we gave them a chance. I have already informed them there would be no selfies or any other pictures taken with you during the interview. Assuming they get past me to you.”
“I can’t believe you even had to say that.”
“You caused quite a stir when you left so abruptly all those years ago and came back a changed man. People are curious about you. They want to know if you’re really the reformed bad boy you say you are or if you’re just making everyone think you are. People want to say they have met you so they can form their own opinion and share it with the world.”
“So, I’m a PR stunt for them?” I asked.
“As they are for us. The buzz that we’ve gotten from the interviews and the not so secret information that you’re the one doing some of them, has been huge with getting the word out about the restaurant. It’s only for one day and it will be extremely helpful for us in the long run. Don’t forget you were the one who said you wanted to do the hiring for this position.”
I had originally wanted to do the interviews for the host position because it’s an important position to fill. All the positions were important but to me, the host was the first line of defense, the first impression that people got of the restaurant and the hardest one to get right. I wanted to find someone who could be friendly without being a push-over, authoritative without being unpleasant.
They would be dealing with people who were hungry, and could be combative or overbearing. They would have to find the right way to navigate around the guests without making them feel they were being pushed into something they didn’t want or offending them. Hopefully, the restaurant ran smoothly enough that it wasn’t an issue, but problems could and would arise at a moment's notice and I needed someone in the front who was capable of handling anything that came their way.
“Great,” I said, suddenly not looking forward to the interviews as much as I had been.
“Oh, and don’t kill the messenger but you have that reporter coming today,” Rosie said.
“I’ve already told you, I’m not talking to them. You can, but not me.”
“They specifically asked to talk to you,” Rosie countered.
“I don’t care. Dad wants the article done to help Uncle Charlie out. I agreed to that. I did not, however, agree to talk to them.”
“You need to. It’s actually a good thing for us too. It’s going to be the cover story on the week we open. The additional buzz and publicity can only help the restaurant, The only way it will happen is if you talk to them.”
“As you keep telling me. I just don’t like reporters. I have no need for them.”
“Yet, you do. You need to get over your aversion to them and you can start this afternoon when they show up. Be nice, courteous, and forthcoming with them, you know not your normal tyrant self,” Rosie said.
She didn’t wait for me to answer but gave me a toothy smile and walked out of the office. I shook my head and looked down at the stack of resumes in front of me and began to wonder not for the first time just how smart I was to own a restaurant.
Chapter 2
Alexandria
“And don’t mess this up. I want dirt and I want it fast,” Georgia, my boss, said to me right before I walked out of her office.
I had spent the better part of the morning listening to her tell me that I was being given the opportunity of a lifetime. If I did this right, I would be able to write my own ticket and be whoever I wanted to be. She was adamant about how she was giving me a chance and that I shouldn’t mess it up. It was important to me and my future with the paper but also for her. She implied that if I messed things up, she would make my life hell. I had listened with half an ear just waiting until I could get out of her office and to the assignment.
The idea of doing an exposé on a billionaire playboy who had no right running a restaurant held a certain appeal. Georgia knew nothing about my past or my family’s business or how she couldn’t have picked a better person for the assignment. I had grown up working in my parents' restaurant. I knew how hard it was to make ends meet, to make hungry customers happy, to establish regular customers, to not get bogged down by the daily grind of it all. I understood the need to order supplies, to try to figure out the right amount of food to make, how to rotate a menu enough to keep it interesting but to keep guest’s favorites so they would keep them coming back.
I was sure Jack Daniels Bennett, JD to his friends, knew none of that. I was sure he had only bought and was opening a restaurant because he thought it would be cool. It would be a fun way for him and his friends to hang out and pick up women.
He was well known in New York City. I would have had to been living on another planet or under a rock to not know who he was or his reputation. The fact that he had disappeared for three years hadn’t diminished the city’s interest in him. If nothing else, it had only caused it to grow. The rumors were that his father had sent him away after an incident with a room full of escorts and a truck load of drugs. He had gone to a rehab out of the country, and it had taken the full three years for him to completely recover. There was talk that he had given up sex, drinking and anything unhealthy all together and it was the only way his father would let him back into the country. I didn’t know if any or all of them were true, but one of my jobs was to find out.
Georgia wanted me to do an exposé on the man. She wanted me to get to know him and see what he was about. Find out why he had left, why he had come back, why he wanted to open a restaurant. Were the rumors true that he and his father didn’t talk? What was his relationship with his siblings, most especially his younger sister, Bailey, who was said to be the only one who could control him?
It was a juicy assignment and one that I was looking forward to. The man had no idea what he was getting into opening a restaurant. I would take some perverse pleasure in watching him fail, or in him throwing more and more money at his dying restaurant hoping to prove to his daddy that he didn’t need him or his money to make a name for himself only to fall on his face.
First, I needed to get the man to talk to me and agree to even do the interview. It might have been set up by my boss and been cleared by Remy Bennett, JD’s father, but that didn’t mean that JD Bennett was on board. I couldn’t see him liking the idea of having a woman come and invade his space and asking him personal questions all for an article. He had been cagey about talking to any reporters in the past, and I couldn’t see him changing his mind simply because his father asked him to.
I was told to get the story, in any way possible, that my future with the company was at stake. I would get it done, I had always finished my assignments, and this one wouldn’t be any different. I just needed to find an in, a way to get him to talk to me. As I stood outside his restaurant and saw the small line of people who had formed to get in, I could see it wasn’t going to be an easy feat.
The outside was nicely done with tinted windows lining the front entrance and looked like they could be pushed out to bring the nice weather in during the warmer months. The stenciling forBennett’swas done in a deep black with gold lining, giving it an old-timey look. It was classic and modern at the same time. I didn’t want to be, but I found myself impressed by the look and feel of the place.
Just because it looked good on the outside, didn’t mean it would run well or even be a success. JD Bennett might be an expert at making things look good, including himself, but that didn’t mean they actually were.
