Big Pickle: A Secret Boss Romantic Comedy - JJ Knight Page 0,7

seen that woman in ages!

Shit!

Then another message.

Just kidding. But you bought it, didn’t you?

Oh, that Audra.

I write her back.

Ha, ha. And thanks.

I remove the forward.

Nova was fast. But I was faster.

I sit there a little longer, watching a mother with two small children enter my deli. I hope Nova gives them better customer service than she did me. Even if I had been a bit of an ass.

But everything is upside down in there. How long has my manager been gone?

And who is managing the books? The orders? The deliveries?

I have no idea. No wonder I’m dead last in the race for best deli.

I lean back against the headrest and thread my fingers together.

This seems like a lot of work. Maybe I shouldn’t even bother.

Everybody knows Anthony’s deli is managed the best, and he cares the most. I could let him win and be done with it

But when I peer across the parking lot at the front awning of Austin Pickle, I know I can’t do that. It’s not the Pickle way. Dad raised us to do our best, to be competitive, to win. And the fact is, I’m not sure I like this impression that his eldest son has learned nothing from his old man. That I don’t care about the legacy he started.

So no, I’m not going to throw the challenge. I’m going to get in there tomorrow and learn how to make my own damn sandwiches. Figure out how many nonstandard financial procedures are going down. And ultimately, get rid of any bad apples on my staff, including this Nova Strong person if need be.

And who knows. Maybe I will turn out to be such a terrific boss and entrepreneur that I’ll actually win this thing.

The next morning, I arrive at Austin Pickle at nine sharp. The text from Nova with my reporting time came through a couple of hours after my conversation with Audra.

She’s reliable at least.

I park my BMW in a garage a few blocks down to avoid attention. Nova has already accused me of being too uppity for sandwich work.

I’ve tried to mimic the way the other employee dressed. Faded jeans. T-shirt. Didn’t we have Pickle shirts for the employees? Dad did in Manhattan. I’ve never visited my brothers’ delis in Boulder and L.A.

Should we? Maybe not. It’s another expense when I’m trying to squeeze out some profit.

The door is locked when I approach. Right. We don’t open until eleven.

The deli is part of a block of buildings. There’s no easy way to get around to a back door.

My iPad is in the car, and I can’t call or text on my personal phone or I’ll blow my cover.

Great start, Jace. Great start.

I peer through the glass. Nova is in there, along with the employee from yesterday and two women. They’re all busy taking chairs down and filling napkin dispensers and messing with the tea machines.

I watch Nova for a moment. She laughs easily with her crew, climbing up on the cabinet to peer in the top of the soda dispenser. She fixes something and jumps down, her brown hair flying behind her.

I’m momentarily distracted by the way her breasts bounce when suddenly the door opens. I stumble forward.

“Jason, I assume?” It’s the man from yesterday, tall and lean with a smirking grin. He holds out an arm to make sure I don’t fall.

I straighten up. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Nova turns. “Oh, hey, Jason.” She glances at my outfit. “I see you came dressed for work today.”

I nod, tugging at the cotton shirt uncomfortably. I’d picked it up at a local record shop. It reads “Keep Austin Weird.”

“Killer jeans, though,” the man says. “They must have set you back.”

Maybe I should have downgraded my Fendi to Gap or something.

“I’m Lamonte.” The man extends a hand. “Welcome to Austin Pickle.”

I grasp it firmly. “Jason.”

He grins like I’m an idiot. Right. He already said my name.

He releases me and points at a young woman with a blond ponytail. “That’s Kate. She goes to UT.” Then he gestures to a middle-aged Hispanic woman. “And that’s Elda.”

I give them both a wave.

“What should I do first?” I’ll toe the line for a bit, but as soon as I get a chance, I plan to get into the manager’s office and review the books.

“I think Nova’s got some paperwork.”

Right. I should probably get out of that. No use complicating things. I wish I’d been able to have Audra communicate this, but we’d been short on time to talk about details