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42
OWEN
I can’t sayit was easy to dive into dinner service with a smile on my face after reading that shitty review, and even worse, realizing it was dishonestly written.
Nothing prepared me for this. Nor the guys. Weston, who has more of a business background than any of us, says shit like this goes down all the time in the business world. He just didn’t see it coming our way.
I mean, who would?
I half-heartedly greet some neighborhood regulars who pat my arm with a kind ‘everything will be okay.’ So, the word is out. People have read about us and are now talking about us.
There’s so fucking much at stake. Not just the business, but the friendship among us guys, our commitment to our investors, and the neighborhood.
Our budding relationship with Livvy. Although she has her own shit sandwich she’s dealing with.
Things could either bloom, and we come out on top smelling like fucking roses, or crash and burn, leaving everything, including our reputations, in tatters. We guys haven’t had the chance to discuss approaches to this latest development, but I’d bet a month’s salary we’ll each have different ideas on what our next move should be.
That’ll be fun.
The worst of it is that a bad restaurant review is like a death spiral. Diners stay away because they want to believe they are as discerning as the famous critic whose word is gospel. Suppliers get nervous they won’t get paid and tighten up credit. Staff start looking for new jobs, anticipating layoffs. And shit keeps falling apart piece by piece until there’s a critical mass of destruction like in a Jenga game.
I’m fighting my pessimistic nature, but it’s not doing any good. In my experience, when the future is looking shitty, there’s a reason for it. No amount of ‘hoping’ or ‘sending good vibes’ makes damn bit of difference.
There is one thing that will brighten my mood, although that’s as uncertain as everything else in my life right now. But I can’t help it. Everybody needs something to brighten their day. I look at my watch.
Livvy should be walking through the door any minute.
I have the bartender save her a seat at the bar and have one of the kitchen staff whip up a little egg and artichoke frittata. I figure the longer I can ply her with food and drink, the longer she’ll stick around. She’s got to know I wasn’t purposely keeping information from her. She knows I wouldn’t do that.
Right?
I’m craning my neck to see out the door from my vantage point at the back of the dining room. When it flies open, I look for my lovely guest. Instead, three dressed-to-kill women saunter in like they own the place, sashaying across the room, right up to me.
“Hello, handsome,” one says.
The one named Kristyll—that’s how she spells it—throws an overly-perfumed arm around my neck and kisses my cheek before I can duck out of the way, no doubt leaving a huge smear of red lipstick behind. Before she releases me, she presses her fake tits into my arm to make sure I didn’t miss the cleavage revealed by her low-cut blouse.
The other two, Adrena and Shay, do the same, each one getting a bit more familiar than the one before. Normally, I’m okay with flirts like this, but today, not so much. I’ve got too much on my mind to flatter these women the way they expect.
Park of their march through the restaurant and overly friendly display of affection is for attention gathering, and it’s worked beautifully. Everyone, while too polite to stare, has noticed them, and the ladies are reveling in the attention.
Problem is, some people notice them who I wish hadn’t.
Like Livvy.
She stands at the front door, frozen in place, watching the women fawn over me.
She’ll know it’s just normal friendliness, right?
Wrong.
She frowns. Maybe she’s confused. At the same time, one of the women hooks her arm through mine, laughing and talking while I walk them to their table. Before they sit, one of them goes as far as running a finger down my chest, purring about something stupid.
When I finally break away, Livvy’s backing toward the door. I wave, gesturing her to come in, but her face transforms from confused to hurt. And just like that, she’s out the door and gone.
Goddammit.
I start to run after her but one of the diners catches my arm to ask for more water. Annoyed, I look around for the bussing staff and see no one in sight. I refill all the water glasses that I can see needing it, wondering if the restaurant critic was on to something.
