Page 2 of The Guy in the Alley

Petey would probably retire within the next five or six years, so I’d prefer to find a new Adam ASAP. That way, when it was time to find a new Petey, Adam 2.0 would already be part of the Clover family.

That was another thing I had to figure out. Dad had hired people who stayed on. They didn’t quit after six months. The exception was waitstaff, which consisted mainly of college students. But the rest, they wanted to stay. They were a little older too.

I should call Ma. She’d been very clear that just because she was retired didn’t mean she was going to stop doing the bookkeeping around here. She’d worked as an accountant for thirty years, and if anyone could help me find a balance between investing in the place and keeping the employees happy, it was her. We’d find the money somehow.

“What’re you grumbling about, man?” Adam strode past me with four beers as I checked the computer next to the register.

“Money. What else?” I closed the browser. This wasn’t the time or the place. I could continue my research on marketing tonight after we’d closed.

“What for?” Adam came back to return one of the card readers.

“Marketing and online bullshit,” I replied. “My sister says we gotta be on social media—but do you know what that costs?”

Dad had never bothered with online marketing whatsoever. He was old-school. Hell, he’d hired kids to hand out flyers up till a couple years ago.

“Lemme think about it,” Adam said. “We code monkeys tend to think we can fix everything.”

I laughed under my breath and grabbed an apron, and I tied it around my hips. I appreciated his offer, but he was swamped as it was. I wasn’t stupid either; he came in to work when he was in town more as a favor to me.

Before meeting his hubby, working here had been his day care, because my folks loved Bella. They’d let Adam bring her with him for a shift whenever, and they’d babysat her while he’d worked his ass off at several jobs.

In sunny California, he was a busy computer programmer. The last thing he needed was to stick his fingers in this fucking mess I was trying to run here.

I lost the next couple of hours behind the bar and out on the floor. Given the shitty weather, I’d only put three on the lunch shift to work the floor, and we managed if I helped out. Most of the lunch guests were middle-class suits, though some tourists had actually found us in the snow.

Why they visited this time of year was beyond me.

As I headed to another table to take an order, I cast a glance toward the doors and saw Bella barging in.

“Sweetheart! Your boots—kick off the snow, please.” Everett was right behind her.

“Oops!”

I grinned to myself and reached the table of two late lunchers. “What can I get’cha, gentlemen?”

“I’ll have the same as always—Double Trouble with fries and a Coke,” the first said, closing his menu.

“No problem.” I turned to the other guy.

He hummed. “Can I get the beef dipped?”

One beef dipped, got it. “’Course, hot or sweet? With or without mozzarella?”

“Hot, thanks. Yes on the mozz. And a Coke.”

“You got it. I’ll be right back with those drinks.” I grabbed the menus and returned to the bar, where Bella was busy rambling to Adam about her and Dad’s new plans.

“Really? In this weather?” Adam chuckled and winced.

Bella flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Daddy, the weather is always good for dress shopping. Okay?”

Whoa. Ship a kid to California, and they came back as a princess.

“She get that behavior from you?” I asked Adam.

“What the fuck?” Adam was immediately offended. “Ask that one. He spoils her.”

“I most certainly do not,” Everett argued. “She suggested shopping because apparently you want her to have a new dress for some dinner we’re attending soon.”

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