Page 97 of Square Deal

Ilived for the rush of a well-planned and flawlessly executed event. Months ago, Luca had asked me to lend a hand to the front-of-house manager at his new steakhouse for the grand opening. The new manager had a type-A personality—sharp and organized. But there was something to be said for years of experience terrifying the shit out of people.

It was also easier for me to whip the staff into shape, knowing I wouldn’t have to see them again. We tag-teamed good cop, bad cop like a well-timed one-two punch.

“Serve from the left, clear from the right,” I quietly reminded a server as we passed by. Jessica, the front-of-house manager, gave the server a thumbs up and offered a hushed “good job.”

“The place settings look so elegant,” Jessica gushed. We skirted the edge of the dining room, discreetly ensuring that all the guests were being cared for.

I smiled softly, breathing in time with the click of my heels against the smooth stone tile floor.

I advised Luca to err on the side of elegance for the placesettings to contrast the masculine ambiance. Crisp linens, smooth silverware, fresh flowers, and tea lights adorned each table.

Heavy beams crisscrossed the ceiling, and massive windows separated rough stone walls. Patrons had an unbeatable view of an orange and pink sunset over the rolling plains.

Soft music played overhead as servers danced around each other. “Serve from the right, clear from the left,” I heard Jessica chide quietly.

I smiled. My little baby bird was almost ready to leave the nest.

“Let’s check-in upstairs,” I said, pleased that things were going well in the main dining room.

Things werenotgoing well upstairs.

The open-air balcony space had more tables waiting to be bussed than tables with diners, all while there was a line of hungry guests waiting to be seated.

Jessica nearly had a panic attack right there. I looked around and found two busboys flirting it up with a server by the ice machine. I shot Jessica mywatch thislook and cleared my throat.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” I began, tapping the busboys on the shoulders. “I just need a minute of your time.”

They turned and stood nervously. The server at least had the good sense to run back to work with her tail between her legs.

My smile was filled with sugar, spice, and rattlesnake venom. “Unless you won the lottery and no longer need this job, you two need to start clearing those tables with the rest of the team. If you don’t, I swear to God, I’ll pull you outside by your ears and have you walking behind Mickey with a pooper-scooper."

The color drained from their faces.

“Any questions?” I smiled sweetly.

They shook their heads in synchronization. “No, ma’am.”

“Great!” I clapped my hands together cheerily. “Don’t hesitate to find Miss Jessica or me if you need direction.”

They scurried off and went to work, turning over the soiled tables at remarkable speed.

I let out a breath and smoothed down my hair. “I would rather go skinny dipping in a tsunami than deal with lazy children.”

She laughed under her breath. “I pity your future kids.”

We shared smiles and headed into the kitchen. Maddie was acting as Luca’s eyes and ears in the kitchen so that he could spend the evening schmoozing patrons.

I found her double-checking each plate as the servers flew out the swinging doors. My stomach rumbled. Luca promised me the biggest steak he could grill when the night was over. I motivated myself with the thought of my mashed potatoes turning pink from the juices of my medium-rare T-bone.

Maddie’s blonde hair was piled high on top of her head. Her chef coat was spotless. She kept looking over her shoulder to the pastry kitchen, gritting her teeth.

“Let me guess,” I said, snagging a plastic cup, filling it with water, and snapping a lid on top. I poked the straw through and took a long sip. “Luca won’t let you near the desserts.”

“I made the fucking menu. I should get to oversee it tonight.”

“You’ve also been down here for a week training the staff. Time to let them compete what they practiced.”

“You sound like Luca,” she muttered, examining the plate that was about to go out. She gave the sous chef an approving nod. “How are things in the front?”

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