Page 1 of Challenged by the Single Dad

CHAPTER ONE

DominicMcEvoyslammedhispalm into the swinging door that separated the front of house and the kitchen. His nostrils flared as he snagged his brother’s gaze, frustration bubbling hot in his veins.

Wyatt met him in the walk-in fridge. “Another one?”

“I …” Dom tugged on the hair elastic that kept his long-ish hair off his face. “There’s something about this one that I just don’t trust.”

“Just like there was something about the last one,” Wyatt said, shaking his head. “And the one before that.”

Dom’s eyes widened. “What do you want from me? I’m not going to entrust my bar to someone I don’t trust. IthoughtI trusted Nadine and look where that fucking got us.” He raked his fingers through his hair, enjoying the scrape of his nails against his scalp and the slight bite of pain it caused.

“That was a one-off and you know it. But we all agree that you can not keep burning the fucking candle at both ends. For Christ’s sake, man, it’s not even a candle anymore. It’s a melted pile of wax and a stump of a wick. We need another bartender—or two—to help spell you off. You know as well as we do that Silas needs more of you at home.”

Dom grumbled. “Don’t you think I fucking know that?”

“Then suck it up and stop finding reasons to let the new bartenders go. What’s wrong with this one?” Wyatt tipped his head to the side and plunked his hands on his hips, staring at Dom with impatience.

“She … she pours the beer weird. Like it has way too much of a head on it. Customers are complaining. So they come to me and I top them up, but ultimately, I know they’re getting more than the pint they paid for because of it. She’s wasting beer.”

Wyatt scoffed. “That’s something that takes time to learn. Hell, I’m still not great at it. Try again.”

“It shouldn’t take anexperiencedbartender half a day to learn.”

Rolling his eyes, Wyatt shook his head. “Aren’t all taps and lines different and have a learning curve?”

Dom should have started to shiver since they were standing in the walk-in fridge, but he was too hot under the collar and welcomed the cooler temperature. Wyatt, on the other hand, had goosebumps rising across his arms to go with his visible breath. “She’s also on her phoneallthe time. And no matter how many times I told her to wash her hands after she handled cards or cash before she grabbed a fruit garnish, she didn’t. That’s unsanitary.”

Wyatt huffed out a deep breath. “And you don’t think she deserves another day to work through her heinous and horrendous flaws?”

Dom sneered. “No.”

Another eye roll from Wyatt had Dom’s temper flaring. “Fine. But just like the last two, you’re the one to let her know she’s not a good fit. We’re not doing your dirty work for you.”

Dom shrugged. “Fine.” Then he stormed out of the walk-in fridge, nearly colliding with Radcliffe, one of the dishwashers. “Sorry,” he murmured, resting a hand on Radcliffe’s shoulder and ignoring the concerned looks from the kitchen staff.

He took a deep breath before steeling his expression and heading back out into the restaurant.

Like every bartender he interviewed and hired, they were all subject to a three-shift trial period. Of course, it was paid, but Dom refused to have a contract with someone he wasn’t sure of. The three-month probationary period where they could let someone go without cause wasn’t enough for him. Not after what happened with Nadine and Ginny.

Their newest bartender, Cammy, was busy flirting with a customer. She accepted his cash for his beer and gave him his change. Then she reached into the garnish bowl and grabbed a lime wedge for another drink she was making.

Dom sighed then glanced at his watch. There were three more hours left on Cammy’s trial shift. This was only day one, but he’d already asked her at least six times to wash her fucking hands after touching money.

She caught him watching her and smiled. “When do you think I can go on a break? I’m dying for a smoke.”

Gross.

A quick glance at the tables in the pub said he could handle things on his own for the rest of the night. He still had two servers on, and was used to being the only bartender.

“You can actually head home if you want,” he said, removing drinking glasses from the rotating glass cleaner. “It’s Wednesday, our slowest night, and I can handle things from here.”

Her brown eyes widened. “Really?” She didn’t seem upset by that at all. “Great. Because some friends asked me if I could meet them in Seattle. There’s this great band playing at some nightclub near Pike Place. I might be able to catch the last ferry.” She reached under the bar to grab her purse and sweater, pulling a cigarette out of a box and putting it between her lips. “So, like … I’ll just wait to hear from you for my schedule?”

Dom swallowed, taking in her heavy eye makeup and the yellow stains on the tips of her fingers. “Actually, I’m not sure it’s going to work out.”

Her face fell.

How old was she? Bennett was the one who went over her résumé, not Dom. He didn’t have time. The woman could be anywhere between twenty-one and forty-five for all he knew.

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