Brendan’s eyes narrowed. That moment of being shouted at was Clyde Wallace all over again, yelling at his sons every day of their lives. And for Brendan, being confronted like this again took every ounce of control hehad not to punch Larry. Instead, he took a deep breath and answered.
“She can’t have pecan pie because it is no longer on the dessert cart menu. Therefore we do not randomly make pecan pie, and I might add, this was Ray’s decision, not mine.”
“That’s Mr. Caldwell, to you, not Ray. He’s your employer, not your buddy,” Larry snapped.
Brendan took a step toward Larry—so close now he could see the balding spot in the crown of Larry’s head.
“No, he’s not my buddy. He’s part of my family. He’s an uncle to my cousin, Rusty Pope. Liz Devon is Rusty’s first cousin. So, yes, we call him Ray. And it wasRaywho made the decision to quit offering pecan pie over a year ago because of the nationwide drought that sent pecan prices soaring, and it was no longer cost efficient to serve them, so your daughter can make another choice. We have fine desserts here.”
Larry was dumbfounded. He had not known about the familial connection, but he wasn’t finished with Brendan.
“That’s as it may be,” Ray muttered. “But Justine says you are mean to her. Rude to her. Won’t talk to her. I’d like to know why.”
Brendan looked up. Even though everyone was still racing around the kitchen filling orders, now they were doing it in silence. He knew they were listening. And they all knew she’d been chasing after Brendan for months, and they’d all suffered their own incidents with her.
“I’d rather not say. Just let it go,” he said.
Larry frowned. Now he was angry and suspicious. “I’m not letting anything go. The least you could do is be decent to her. She doesn’t have friends here.”
Brendan refused to comment, but Anthony, his head sous-chef, wasn’t as reticent. He liked Brendan, and he didn’t like seeing him put on the spot like this.
“Brendan isn’t going to speak up for himself because he’s too much of a gentleman, but nobody ever accused me of that, and I don’t mind telling you exactly what we all know. Your daughter won’t keep her hands off of him. We’ve seen her grab his ass and crotch so many times it’s become embarrassing. She stalks him everywhere. We’ve all witnessed it. A month ago he came in to work bleeding from a slash on his neck. Your daughter cornered him in the staff elevator and tried it on him again, and when he told her no, she pulled a knife and tried to cut his face. He dodged. Chef Randolph called the EMTs to tend the wound, and if you look closely, you can see the red place where it’s still healing. She’s a freak. He’s made it more than plain to her that he’s not interested, but she won’t take no for an answer.”
Larry was horrified. He knew his daughter was spoiled, but he’d never witnessed this behavior, so he wouldn’t let himself believe it and brushed Anthony off.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” he said.
But Anthony wasn’t through. “No, sir, but you came in here shouting at us and throwing accusations around, so you now have to hear the answers to the questionsyou asked. And there’s more. Justine slapped Ronnie, the clerk in the gift store, and she did it in front of customers, and left Ronnie in tears.”
“She’s hateful to all of us,” a waitress said. “She thinks just because you’re the manager that it has given her the power to speak for you. She goes through the dining room at rush times, criticizing waitstaff in front of diners and ordering them around. We sincerely hope those aren’t your wishes she’s putting forward, because you’re about to have a mass staff walkout if it continues.”
Brendan was in awe of the people who’d spoken up for him, but he could stay silent no longer. “Look, Larry, don’t blame us if you don’t like the answers you received. But you need to realize that since your arrival, she has single-handedly destroyed the morale of this workforce, and as far as we’re concerned, she’s your problem, not ours.”
Larry’s face was flushed with anger. “How dare you talk about—”
“You asked,” Brendan said.
“I don’t believe you, and you could at least be willing to interact with Justine. Talk to her. Be nice to her. She doesn’t have any friends here and she’s—”
Brendan’s patience snapped. “What the actual hell? She tried to cut my face! Did you really just order me to…I don’t know quite how to say it…succumb to her charms?”
Larry’s face was as red as his tie. “How dare you talk—”
Brendan had had enough and was now standing toe-to-toe with the man, shouting back.
“No, sir! How dareyousuggest I cater to her wishes. You sound like her pimp. She’s made coming to work a living hell. Stalking is a crime, and I have two brothers who are officers on the Jubilee police force, and Ray would be very unhappy to learn what has been going on here, so keep her away from me, and I suggest you keep her out of your business, too.”
Larry was speechless, embarrassed, and suddenly seeing the situation he was in. He didn’t need people looking into his little sideline. He turned around and headed for the exit with his head down.
“So do I fry shrimp or not?” Chef Randolph snapped as Larry walked past.
“No,” he mumbled and kept walking.
The moment he was gone, the noise level resumed.
Brendan picked up the bag of piping gelée and went back to work. Orders came in. Orders were going out. And Larry Beaumont was on his way to the penthouse.
He rode the elevator up in silence, but he was shouting his daughter’s name as he walked in the door.