Page 7 of Hot Shot

“Helicopters nearly crashing,” I add. “Shrapnel wounds.”

“Nearly getting raped by a whale,” Cade says.

I laugh. “Right.”

“Pink glitter bombs in the gear,” Cade adds.

Beck grins. SEALs do like their pranks. “Yeah. My point is, this isn’t life and death.”

Beck’s point has merit. But it’s in my nature to want justice. Those bastard graffiti artists can’t get away with shit like that. I want to find them and punish them.

As for the restaurant and our menu problems, what does success look like anyway? We have customers coming in who enjoy themselves here, regulars who like to hang out here, we have enough money to pay the bills and a lifestyle we’re making the most of. Sunny Southern California offers plenty of opportunities for us to enjoy the physical kinds of pastimes we all enjoy: mountain biking, rock climbing, hang gliding, go-kart racing, paintball . . . even skydiving like Beck does to raise money for the Trident Foundation, which he started to provide financial help to Navy SEALs in times of need. And I have my welding art. It’s a weird kind of hobby I’ve been playing around with using the welding skills I learned in the Navy, not for salvaging sunken vessels or repairing ships below the waterline, but for having some fun with.

“Yeah,” I final admit. “You’re right.”

Cade snorts. “Jeez. What’s happening here today? We’re not gonna argue about green versus red salsa or which kinds of tequila we’re going to serve at the next tasting event?”

“We’re not gonna argue about that because I’ve already decided,” I say.

“Whatever.” Cade shrugs. “In other news, we need to hire more serving staff.”

“What?” I scowl. “We just hired three new waiters.”

Cade nods. “And then Betsy decided to move back to L.A. and Julio gave his notice because he got a full-time job as a bank teller.”

“Well, shit.” Beck frowns too. “It never ends.”

Staffing is a pain in the ass sometimes.

“Nope.” Cade shakes his head.

“Why do we have so much turnover? This is a great place to work,” I say.

“And we’re the shit,” Beck adds. “Who could ask for better bosses?”

Cade and I both grin. “Right? Something else we’re all in agreement on.”

“It’s just the nature of the business,” Cade says. “We’re doing fine. Don’t worry, I’ll deal with it.” He’s the businessman of the three of us, the guy who does the books and counts the nickels. He does the hiring and all the paperwork that goes with that, but Beck and I usually take on training new staff.

“So who was last night’s hookup?” I ask Cade.

Cade squints. “I think her name was Leslie.”

I hoist an eyebrow. “You think? Jesus, man.”

“Yeah, yeah, it was Leslie. She was fun.”

“But you’re not seeing her again.”

“Yeah, probably not. But I never say never.”

“He’s not seeing her again,” I say to Beck.

“We worry about you, dude.” Beck gives Cade a look.

Cade lifts his middle finger at us.

“What kind of communication is that?” Beck says. “I’m serious.”

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