Page 1 of Time for Change

Chapter One

Stevie

It’s time.

I stare at the front door to Burgers and Brew, a wave of anticipation and excitement coursing through my veins. When I moved to Stewart Grove just two short weeks ago, it was with the hopes I’d be able to land a job at the infamous burger joint and bar.

I’ve heard all about this place, and not only from chatter around the small town. They’re everywhere online, and for the most part, have amazing reviews. Customers rave about the food, patrons talk about the Friday and Saturday night eleven o’clock Mötley Crüe tribute, and former employees boast about the owners. The moment I settled on Stewart Grove, Ohio as my new home, I knew this is where I wanted to work.

Now, I just have to get through the interview.

And secure the job.

I reach out and grab the handle, pulling open the heavy wooden door. I’m instantly assaulted by a mixture of warm air, fresh hamburgers, and cinnamon. The last one confuses me a bit, but who am I to ask questions?

“How many?” a friendly server asks as she approaches the empty hostess stand.

“Actually, I have an appointment with Garreth,” I tell her, glancing around the open restaurant to see if I can spot anyone who looks familiar. I’ve done enough internet searching over the last few months to be considered a novice sleuth at this point, but I don’t see anyone I recognize.

“He’s waiting for you on the bar side. Follow me and I’ll show you,” she replies, turning and walking through the restaurant and making a left. A large entryway separates the two big rooms, and the moment I step inside, I can’t help but grin.

It looks exactly as it does on their website.

“Stevie?”

I glance over and find the manager, Garreth Taylor, approaching. He’s a handsome man, with longer hair and a warm, friendly smile. He extends his hand once he reaches me. “Hello,” I reply, giving his hand a shake.

“Thanks for coming in. I really appreciate you doing so on a Sunday,” he says, using his hand to point toward a pub table off to the side. “Right this way, and we’ll get the interview started.”

I take the seat that doesn’t appear to have been already sat in and slip my coat off. I’m wearing the only pair of black pants I own and a pretty sweater in light blue. I haven’t been on many interviews in my short twenty-years of life, but I paid close attention to my classes in high school. One of them taught important life skills, such as résumé writing, bank account balancing, interview etiquette, among other skills.

“Would you like something to drink?” he asks, pouring himself a glass of ice water from a pitcher sitting on the table.

“Please.” Hopefully, it’ll help my tongue from getting stuck to the roof of my mouth as my nerves really kick in.

“Okay, so why don’t you tell me briefly about yourself,” he instructs, looking over the application I filled out online a few days ago.

“Well, I’m a recent transplant to Stewart Grove. I grew up about two hours away in Roberts, Ohio and am taking online classes to get my bachelor’s in marketing and communications.”

“Nice,” he says, offering a genuine smile. “Recent transplant, huh?”

“Right at two weeks,” I confirm.

“Oh, wow. Very recent,” he states with a laugh. “Right before Christmas?”

“Yeah, well, I don’t have much family, so it was no big deal to move the week before the holidays. I was able to get settled at my new apartment quickly.”

“Okay, well, let’s talk about your serving experience. You waited tables at a Denny’s back in Roberts?”

“I did. Just under two years. The only reason I left was because I found something a little closer to home, and since I was still in school, it was easier on the schedule.”

He nods. “I understand. Well, let me tell you a little about this place,” he starts, leaning back in his chair and getting comfortable. “We’re a busy establishment. We’ve developed a stellar reputation on serving delicious food in a clean, comfortable atmosphere, and take that reputation very seriously. We’re owned by four friends, who all have their own ‘place’ within the business, so to speak. They’re very hands-on and still work the business they started together. They also own the brewery next door, but that part is run by Jameson, one of the four partners.”

I nod in understanding, my heart hammering in my chest. He’s not telling me anything I haven’t already researched, but hearing him talk about the business—and the owners—really gets me anxious.

We spend the next ten minutes talking about the job, what is expected of me, the hours, and the pay. “Since you’re only twenty, you can serve alcohol, but you’re not allowed to pour it. Our company policy is you’re not allowed behind the bar at all, and if you’re caught, you will be reprimanded accordingly, including being terminated. We’ve never had that happen, but we all take the liquor laws of the state, county, and city very seriously. You’re required to card anyone who we think is under thirty, and if you have any questions about an ID or the patronholding it, you get me or whichever owner is on duty. One of the five of us is always here.”

Again, I nod, hope racing through my veins.

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