Big Pickle: A Secret Boss Romantic Comedy - JJ Knight Page 0,16
has fired off a certified letter to Susan’s address, letting her know she’s being terminated. That should flush her out. It went to an Austin address, and if she’s in Hawaii, no telling when she’ll get it. But we have to do this by the book.
I don’t bear any illusion that simply firing my manager is going to solve my problem. Even if we’ve been paying her not to be there, it doesn’t change the fact that the budget should support her salary, no one else was getting it, and we have plenty of business to keep things going.
Something is wrong somewhere else. And that has to lie at the feet of Nova Strong.
I could fire her. Wipe the whole slate clean, shut down for a couple of weeks and start over with new staff.
But the truth is, I don’t know how to do a damn thing. Watching Arush make the chicken salad, I realize I don’t even know the ingredients. And the crew can set up the sandwich line in a heartbeat. I can’t do that.
And truth be told, I don’t buy that Nova is guilty. I don’t want to believe it. She’s smart and funny and competent as the leader.
I need to get back in there.
To do that, I have to let her talk to Jace Pickle.
But I can’t. As soon as I say five words, she’s going to know I’m him.
Damn it. I need someone to speak for me.
Whoever talks to her has to know the business inside and out. They have to be able to make decisions on the fly. And be persuasive.
I don’t know anybody like that.
Or do I?
Shit, I do.
But it will totally suck to ask.
I have no choice.
I snatch up my cell phone and hit the speed dial.
Here goes nothing.
The line picks up. “Max Pickle.”
My brother’s voice is abrupt and baritone, closer to the sound of my dad than mine or Anthony’s.
“Hey, it’s Jace.”
“What’s up with the incognito call?”
I’d forgotten I hid my caller ID to avoid an accidental reveal.
“Woman problems. Listen, I need some help.”
“Did I hear that correctly? Big brother Jace needs someone to help him?” He laughs.
“Can it.”
“No. No, wait. Don’t tell me. You hid your number. You have a woman problem. Did you finally tangle with some married chick and the husband’s coming after you? Do you need your big buff brother to protect your skinny little ass?”
“I do not have a skinny little ass.”
“I wouldn’t know. I don’t look at your ass.”
“Max, can you shut the hell up? It’s about my deli.”
This admission gets just as big of a laugh. “You do need help. I saw your numbers. You couldn’t sell hay to a cow.”
“All right, all right. Have your fun at my expense.”
“Thank you. I will.”
“I don’t see you in the lead. Anthony is kicking both our asses.”
“As he should. He’s the cuisine master of the family. Next to Grammy, anyway.”
“Are you going to help me or not?”
“That depends. If you ask me to help you jump ahead of me in our little brother battle, you can shove it. You’re sucking at it, and you deserve what you get. But if it’s something else, we can talk.”
I try to angle this to ensure Max will help me. “My manager’s gone missing, and some hellfire chick has run my deli into the ground.”
“Well, shit. How long has this been going on?”
“Too long.” I have no intention of telling him I’ve been absent for over six months.
“What’s your plan?”
“I convinced her to hire me under my real name so I could figure out where the money’s going.”
Max laughs so hard and so long I have to hold the phone away from my ear in frustration.
He finally manages to choke out, “So you’re working in your own damn deli? As an employee? And let me guess. She fired you.”
Why does everyone assume that?
“She caught me snooping and thinks I’m some corporate spy. I told her I was a friend of Jace. Now she insists on having Jace call her, but I can’t call her, because I’m me.”
“So you’re trying to get back in there?”
“Exactly. I managed to get into the accounting folders to figure out what the hell was going on with my profits when she caught me.”
“Jace, you’re not using your head. If you want to look at the books, go there after hours. It’s not as if the deli is open late. You don’t have to work there to see what’s going on.”