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Chapter Three
Andreas
The restaurant doors clang shut behind me, and I walk across the parking lot to my car. This is the fourth store I’ve been to in the past week, and it didn’t go any better than the others. The transition from bystander to owner in place of my father was turning into a massive fucking headache. The interior is worse for wear and needs to be updated. It’s in massive need of a deep clean, and the staff is lacking manners and decorum.
My father started opening sports bars over thirty years ago, and he now runs them all over the United States. Well, I should say, he ran them. He’s in the process of retiring, and I’m an only child. The mess of ownership falls into my lap, and the people operating the stores have been running rampant for quite some time now. I never wanted this to be a career for me, but it seemed like a logical choice.
As I get into my car, thoughts of plum-colored hair and gray eyes enter my mind. The server had a mischievous glint in her eye and an insolent air about her. The key slides into the ignition. Instead of starting the car, I rest my forehead against the steering wheel and shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I can’t afford any distractions right now, especially not a woman who works for me, even if she doesn’t know it.
But that hair, that attitude… It’s been a while since a woman has caught my attention like that. Shaking my head, I try to focus on the task at hand. I need to get these locations in check and turn these stores around. I maneuver the car out of the parking lot and head toward my house. The only good thing about this location is that it’s only five miles away from where I live.
When I pull into my driveway, I take a deep breath and get out of the car. I can’t put this off any longer. It’s time to call my father and tell him about the state of his franchises.
I walk inside, sit down on the couch, and grab my cell phone from the coffee table. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I dial his number. It rings, and I close my eyes and mentally prepare for the less than comfortable conversation I know is coming. It isn’t every day you get to tell his dad that he’s gotten lax in his business operations, and it’s making things fall apart.
“Hey! What’s going on? How did your visits go?” my father asks.
“Not so great,” I say.
Then, I explain everything that happened during each visit, from dirty kitchens to unprofessional staff members. The more details I recite, the softer his responses grow until they’re almost inaudible by the end of my rant.
“Dad,” I say once I’m finished. “I’m sorry if this was too much for you to handle at once.”
My father sighs heavily before responding. “No…no, it’s okay,” he says. “It’s just… Well, it was one thing when these were all run by me directly; but over the past few years, I guess I’ve gotten lax with visits. More responsibility fell onto the general managers, and things slipped.” He pauses again before continuing. “I’m sorry, Andreas. You’re going to have to work on cleaning up my messes.”
Nodding though he can’t see it, I say, “I understand, Dad. I’ll do my best.”
After hanging up the phone, I take a moment to collect myself before heading to my home office to make calls to my management team. The annoyance caused by the server earlier is still gnawing at the back of my brain. I’m even more annoyed because I find her incredibly attractive. The way her hair fell around her face, the way her body moved as she spoke…
I need to focus and draft an email to the general manager of the store I was at today. I could tell him a list of things to have done as I have at all the other stores. Instead, I tell him to call a mandatory meeting for all staff. I want to address the staff of this store, and I’m pretending it has nothing to do with the server that I met tonight.
After I hit the send button, I make myself a drink, grab a pencil and paper, and start sketching. Drawing has always been a release for me. I used to have dreams of going to art school, but life had different ideas. The pencil has a life of its own, and before I know it, a sketch comes together.
Soon, I see a familiar face take shape. In the drawing, her lips are full and pink, slightly parted as if she’s about to say something. I continue adding details to my drawing—the way her nose turns up ever so slightly at the tip or how one eyebrow is slightly higher than the other — until I have completely captured her essence on paper.
I sit back in wonderment at my finished product before taking a sip of my drink. Art had always been my passion, but never have I sketched a portrait that looked this detailed from meeting someone once. The longer I stare at the sketch, the more enamored I become. It’s as if she’s right in front of me. I can almost hear her uttering “fuck” out loud.
Suddenly, my phone rings, jolting me out of my trance. It’s Jim, calling from the store.
“Hey, Andreas. I got your email. Is everything okay?” Jim asks, his voice full of anxiety.
I clear my throat and answer gruffly, “Yes, everything is fine. I just wanted to come down to the store and speak with the staff. Can you arrange a meeting for tomorrow?”
“Sure thing, boss. What time do you want me to schedule it for?” he still sounds unsure, but my reassurance soothes him.
I ponder the time, knowing I’ll piss the closers off if I make them come in too early.
“Let’s make it for ten. And make sure everyone is there. I want to address some important matters.”
“Got it. See you tomorrow.”
I hang up the phone, feeling slightly guilty. Calling an in-person meeting isn’t necessary. I could have sent a list to Jim like I had every other store. The only difference is the server. Why in the fuck was I considering interacting with one of my employees? I’ve never dipped into the company pool, and I shouldn’t even be thinking about it now.
The glass is cool against my lips as I finish the rest of my whiskey, then take a shower. While the hot water relaxes the tension in my shoulders, I make a mental list of things I want to go over during the meeting tomorrow. This store is probably the busiest in the entire franchise, and it’s also the store that needs the most work. The more I think about how dirty it is, the more pissed I get.
By the time I get into bed, I have a game plan. I jot down everything I want done at the store on a sketch pad I keep next to my bed. Then, I set an alarm to make sure I get up with enough time to work out before I have to be at the store. I fall asleep haunted by gray eyes, dreaming of fisting purple hair while I kiss her.
