Page 4 of Challenged by the Single Dad

What if he hired the wrong person and they torched the place? Or stole from them?

He already felt guilty enough for hiring Nadine, he couldn’t make that same mistake again.

By the time he entered his front door, he could barely keep his eyes open.

His younger brother, Jagger, sat on the couch reading a sci-fi book. He glanced up, the glare of his glasses in the overhead, muted, pot lights obscuring his blue eyes. “You’re gonna have a fucking heart attack if you keep going this way, man.” He put his bookmark in the middle of the book and stretched his big frame out to stand up. “Silas asked if you could remember to draw him a picture tonight. Apparently, you’ve forgotten the last couple of nights.”

Nodding, Dom tore the hair elastic out of his hair again and exhaled a long, deep sigh. “Right.”

Jagger slapped a hand on Dom’s shoulder as he headed for the door. “We’ve been chatting about you.”

“Yeah? In a group chat I’mnota part of?”

“There are so many group chats we’re each not part of, get over it. And yes. Because we’re worried about you. Nadine was not your fault.”

Dom gave Jagger some side-eye. He was too tired to argue tonight.

“We’re taking over the hiring process. And the firing will be done by a vote.”

Well, that fucking woke him up. “Like hell it will. It’s my—”

“It’sourrestaurant. And you areourbrother. We care about you. We love you. But you can’t keep going the way you’re going. It’s unsustainable. We’ve already set up some interviews for tomorrow. And we will vote as a group of five who we hire and who we fire.” Jagger shrugged. “It’s not personal. But something’s gotta give and you know it.” He squeezed Dom’s shoulder. “Get some sleep.” Then he left out the front door.

Dom glared at the door for a few heartbeats, trying to get his blood pressure to go down.

Fucking hell.

It was goddamned mutiny was what it was.

He never interfered with his brothers’ areas of the business. What the fuck made them think they could interfere with his?

He stomped upstairs, tearing off his shirt in the process. He was about to go have a shower when he passed his son’s slightly open door.

Right! The picture.

Silas had a little drawing pad that with the push of a button could erase the image. It was like a modern-day Etch A Sketch. Every night Silas drew Dom a picture, and then before Dom went to bed, he erased Silas’s picture and drew one for his son to wake up to. They’d been doing it for years. And about two years ago, Dom ran out of ideas of what to draw. But Silas didn’t care. Sometimes he went with a simple smiley face, other nights he had more pep in his step and took some time draw a picture a bit more elaborate.

Tonight was a smiley face night.

Silas had drawn a cute little turtle.

Dom scribbled the smiley face, brushed his son’s hair off his face, and kissed his forehead.

Yeah, okay. Fine. His brothers were right. He needed to spend more time with his great kid. He needed to hire another bartender.

Hopefully they could find one who wasn’t a raving psychotic killer this time.

CHAPTER TWO

Shewasgettingtooold for this.

In her early twenties, Chloe Voss would have loved the loud, chaos of a hostel. Backpackers from every corner of the earth meeting and partying, sharing stories and traveling tips, laughs, and more.

But she was in her mid-thirties now, and wanted to be in bed at a reasonable hour with no loud noise, raucous laughter, or the sound of some guy who couldn’t handle his liquor vomiting in the communal bathroom across the hall.

At least she’d splurged on a private room and didn’t trap herself in the multi-bed dorm like she’d initially thought she would.

One look at the rows of bunk beds, and one deep inhale, and she was back out to reception asking if there were any private rooms with private bathrooms available.

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