Page 15 of Sinfully Shameless Chef

A laugh bubbles up my throat, and I shove a hand back through my hair which has become a disheveled mass after working on getting the tables and chairs moved in by myself this morning. “Well, I hope it’s eventually busy in here, too.” I hold up a hand. “But don’t worry about the high-end thing. That isn’t really my style.”

Anna glances around and nods. “I love your style.”

I look at the still mostly vacant space and can’t stop smiling. “Me, too.”

There isn’t a whole lot in here yet, just these tables and chairs I managed to salvage from a place Ashley found that was shutting down. The mismatched wood hues and crazy-painted chairs in a rainbow of colors make my heart soar, though. Maybe because they aren’t perfect, and they remind me of myself. Grams would love them, too. They’re just happy. And I could use a dose of happy these days. Most people could.

I take a deep breath and try to push that thought out of my head so I don’t lose it again. Going non-stop day and night to clean and help monitor the contractors to get things built-out perfectly has left me barely able to move without pain and regret.

Once I’m done and ready to open the doors, I’ll let myself have a big cry imagining Grams’ reaction if she were here, but for now, I need to focus on moving forward as fast as possible and ignore all the other things threatening to derail that. “So, when can I get you to start?”

Her eyes widen slightly, and she glances around. “Don’t you want to interview other people?”

I nod. “I am doing other interviews. I think I have the budget to hire four part-time people.”

“Oh…” The smile she was wearing falters slightly. “I kind of hoped to be full-time.”

Crap.

I sigh and chew on my bottom lip. “I can’t offer you full-time because of benefits and tax issues.”

Because with the hourly wage she commands with her experience, I need to conserve my small budget.

“Oh.” She nods slowly. “Well, I could probably make it work as long as I was getting at least thirty hours a week.”

“No problem.”

“Really?”

I nod and rise to my feet. “Definitely. I don’t want to lose out on having you. I hope to have you here in a couple of weeks to help get the final things in order. Does that sound good?”

She stands. “Sure. I will put in my two-week notice at my current job so that works perfectly.”

I shake her hand and then walk her to the door. “I can’t wait to work together.”

Anna grins back at me. “Neither can I. This place is going to be really cool.”

“I hope so. I’ll give you a call tomorrow with a time to come in and do all the final paperwork.”

“Sounds great.”

She slips out the door, and I return to my seat at the table we were using for the interview, lowering myself with a groan at the little zing of pain that shoots through my abdomen and lower back.

These damn tables were heavy.

Maybe I shouldn’t have moved them myself, but I didn’t have much choice. I need to save money any way I can, even if that meant renting a U-Haul and “delivering” them on my own.

I run my hand across the dinged wood and sigh. These old tables are definitely a little worse for wear, but it’s all I could afford, and they do give the place a little bit of character. And that’s exactly the way I want it.

It’s not a stuffy, uptight place where people feel like they have to wear a coat and tie or a dress to come to have a meal. Jeans and T-shirts are more my style…at least, most days.

I glance down at myself and the stains all over my shirt and pants. Although, lately, my style has been grimy and dirty with working on getting everything ready.

By the time I force myself to go home at night because my body just can’t keep up anymore, I look like I’ve been digging in a dumpster. Which I kind of have, I guess, trying to find anything I can to help with my budget issues.

And now, I have almost everything ordered and just need the perfect staff. Anna is going to be a wonderful head waitress. She has one of the most experienced resumés to come across my email since I made my posting. I can’t wait to have her help in getting the final thing set up.

I flip open my folder with the rest of the resumés to get ready for the next interview when the door swings open again.

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