“Let’s just say I made some changes.” Mac raised a brow. “I think you’ll find a different Vintage than what you left behind.”
“That’s mysterious.”
“Come on, follow me.”
Jameson led him down the winding path and through the back. After the storm, the weather turned mild again, so customers chose to eat out on the covered patio with the heaters. It was the lull between brunch and dinner so the place was deserted.
Mac stopped on the edge of the path and stared. “Where are all the lights?”
“Got rid of them. Gave the place an upgrade. Some of that stuff was years old and outdated. I ordered new linens and settings to bring in a bit of elegance to the casual atmosphere. The colors were faded so I went with a neutral gray and offset purple for a bit of contrast. See how sleek it looks?”
Mac didn’t respond. He prowled around the patio, looking around, trying to take it all in. Excitement stirred. Finally, all his hard work would pay off when Mac saw all the amazing changes. “Your liquor license wasn’t being used appropriately so I hired a bartender, upgraded the liquor and wine choices, and put in mimosa and bloody mary specials on Sundays.”
Mac blinked. “I have a bar?”
Jameson clapped him on the shoulder with delight. “That’s right. With a sixty percent markup! How’s that for profit?”
No answer. Mac seemed a bit confused so Jameson led him to the main dining area. “You’ll see I re-arranged the tables to fit more—people don’t mind sitting close to one another so Isqueezed in five more. More customers, more profit. The new rug and centerpieces allow for a more streamlined space.”
Trisha walked in and lit up when she saw Mac. “You’re back! I’m so happy! How’s your sister and the baby?”
“Everyone’s good. I’ll bore you with pics later.” A frown creased his brow. “Why are you dressed like that? All in black?”
Trisha glanced over. Her tone was neutral. “Jameson got us new uniforms.”
“I see.” Mac nodded. “I’ll talk to you later, okay? I’m getting the big tour.”
“Good luck,” Trisha muttered, hurrying away.
Jameson shook his head. “Your staff is great, Mac, but they really took advantage. I was able to get them on an organized shift schedule by denying most of their requests. I think you’ll find less turnover now. And the uniforms keep everyone on the same level. You need consistency at a restaurant—not servers displaying their own personal style everywhere. Right?”
No answer. Jameson figured his cousin was in shock. Pride weaved through him “The menu is brand-new and I think you’ll love it. Very classy and fresh. Very beach town like but with a twist. Here.” He handed it over and Mac glanced over it, turning away.
Silence settled over the room.
“I know it’s a lot to take in, but honestly? It was my pleasure to do it. You’ve always given so much to others it’s hard to watch people take advantage of you. Sure, there were some bumps in the road with people getting used to things, but I didn’t mind at all. What do you think?”
Jameson waited for his cousin to get emotional. To hug him and thank him and confess he’d been worried about Vintage and now it had been saved. He puffed up his chest, ready to accept the gratitude in a manly, humble manner. Because it wastrue. He’d done all of it so Mac could have a more profitable, organized restaurant.
Slowly, Mac spun around, his face full of shock, his dark eyes glittering with…
Anger.
“Jameson, what the hell did you do to my restaurant?”
He blinked. “What do you mean? I made it better. For you.”
A curse blistered the air. Mac dragged a hand through his hair, obviously pissed off. “No, you didn’t, dude. You made it worse. Why did you open a bar? And why is my staff in boring ass uniforms?” He clenched his jaw and jabbed a finger at him. “And where the hell is the pancake charcuterie board on my menu?”
“I-I changed things to make you more money! I thought Vintage was a bit dated and old, so I gave it a refresh. Look how sleek and classic it looks now. There’s brand new linens and flatware and décor. There’s mimosas and lobster tacos. The staff and the town stopped taking advantage. I did this all for you!”
The silence was shattering. Mac shook his head and stared at him with a look of deep disappointment. “No, you didn’t,” he finally said quietly. “You did it for yourself. You made Vintage into your restaurant and now I have to clean up the mess.”
“But—”
He put out a hand. “Don’t. I need some time to talk to my staff and see what I’m going to do. I’ll meet you at the house later.”
“Mac—”