Page 4 of The Hometown Dilemma
“Because those would be the acceptable reasons for you not being at work tonight.”
There was a short pause. “Look, Wade, I really appreciate the opportunity at Dempsey’s but there’s not much in the way of climbing up the ladder. I thought by now I’d have at least been a bar supervisor.”
His words swam around in my brain. The cheek of the kid. He was twenty-three and had been working at the bar for around a month. In all honesty, he wasn’t that great at his job, and I couldn’t remember exactly how many times he’d come in late or called in sick. How he thought he deserved a promotion in that short timeframe, God only knew.
“I don’t have room for another supervisor right now.” I crossed my fingers as I told the lie. In truth, I absolutely needed someone to step into that kind of role, but he wasn’t the right man for the job.
“That’s cool,” he said, surprising me. “I’ve been offered a job at The Fall Line, so I’m gonna leave anyway. You can take this as my weeks’ notice.”
“Don’t bother,” I hissed. “And don’t bother using me as a reference.” Before I could say anything else I couldn’t take back, I ended the call and immediately removed him from the group chat.
Blowing out my cheeks, I circled the bar, trying to calm down. How he thought he’d be more suited to The Fall Line I would never know. But Eli quitting really did leave me in the shit. Dempsey’s ran a tight, lean ship. We made do with what we had, but being a person down was going to hit hard. I didn’t want Dad to pick up the slack or have him think I couldn’t handle things. It would mean more hours for me, but it wasn’t as if I had much else to do these days. Who needs sleep anyway?
I rejoined Dad behind the bar where I found him deep in conversation with two of his fishing buddies and didn’t have the heart to tell him to leave. One shift wouldn’t hurt him, especially if I was there.
The night dragged on, with a few bursts of business as groups of students from Abbott Ridge College came in for one drink and then left. As a college renowned for its athletic programs, the students were more focused on making it big time and those drinks tended to be non-alcoholic.
Shortly after nine, my buddy Austen Jenkins came in and I was grateful for his company.
“What’s it gonna be, son?” Dad stepped in, gently pushing me aside this time. “Wade, why don’t you take a break and sit with your friend for a bit? I can pick up the slack.”
Given how quiet it had been in the past hour, there wasn’t a great deal of slack to be picked up, but I sensed he didn’t want an argument. And to be honest, neither did I.
“Thanks, Dad. I’ll take a beer.”
“Same for me. Thanks Lloyd,” said Austen.
Dad popped a couple of bottles and handed them over to us. We went to sit at one of the tables near the back, almost out of sight. Personally though, I always thought it was never a good look for the owner to be seen slacking off.
“How’s your day been?” I asked Austen.
He loosened his tie, swigging from his beer. “Getting busy, buddy. Been working my ass off this past week.”
Austen was in real estate and worked for one of Abbott Ridge’s most popular brokerages. His office had a steady stream of properties, and he sometimes covered the exclusive listings for the larger houses on the outskirts of town. If he hadn’t been my best friend, I would have been jealous of his success and the sometimes outrageous commissions he received. But I knew he worked hard for it, and I didn’t begrudge him for that.
“It also doesn’t hurt that one of my new clients is absolutely smoking. Especially for an older woman.” Austen fashioned a chef’s kiss. “But she’s also the fussiest person I’ve ever met. She wants her house staged before we list it and I have no idea where to start with that.” He shrugged.
“Aren’t there people who do that? Cami used to make me watch those reality programs about selling houses and there was always someone who turned a sterile looking place into a cozy family home. You know, put a few cushions on a sofa and a vase on a mantle,” I mused.
“Yeah, true. Maybe I need to look for someone.”
“If it’s gonna get you the commission, then…?”
“Don’t know why I don’t always come to you for career advice.” Austen grinned. “What’s been going on with you?”
Wondering where to start, I swigged some of my beer. “Working out how the fuck to staff this place. One of the new guys has decided The Fall Line is more attractive.”
Austen held out his left hand. “Rustic bar and diner.” Then his right. “Fancy restaurant based in a vineyard. Honestly, can’t see the difference.”
“Fuck off,” I growled. Sure, the two places were poles apart, but there was a place in Abbott Ridge for us both.
“Wondered if your dad was going to be here tonight,” he said, glancing over the bar.
“If I had my way, he wouldn’t be here any other night. He’s supposed to be taking a step back.” I traced the wet ring on the table that my beer bottle had left. “But I really need some ideas to get more customers in.Youngerpeople.”
“Why don’t you try showing sports? Attract some of the college jocks and give the bar at the other end of town some competition.” Austen pointed up at the TV screen, which was currently switched off.
“Yeah, thought of that, but Dad’s not keen to pay for all the channels we’d need.” It was a discussion we’d had on many occasions.
