hard it slammed against the wall, and then turned around and let him have it.
"My daddy, if he were still alive, would have beat you to within an inch of your life for what you just said to me! You want to see my ass? Then you better look fast because that's the last thing you're going to see. I don't kiss ass to get a job. I don't show my ass to get a job. And I'm not going to work for an ass to do it."
Then she slammed the door shut so hard the window rattled. She strode past employees staring at her in shock. Past the tables. Past the front desk, and then walked up to hostess station, to Karen, the waitress who'd let her in.
"You! Unlock the door and let me out."
Like everyone else in the building, Karen was staring at Gracie in shock, unable to believe what she'd just heard.
"NOW!" Gracie shouted.
Karen jumped, and then went running toward the door and unlocked it.
Gracie hit it with the flat of her hand and kept walking.
"Son-of-a-bitch!" she muttered, and then got in the car and left rubber on the pavement of the parking lot as she drove away.
The abruptness of her exit had set a fire of its own inside the restaurant. The employees were whispering among themselves.
"Who was she?"
"Does anyone know her name?"
"Man... I wish we'd gotten that on video."
"He's had that coming for years."
"I wish I'd had the guts to say that."
And then Greg came out of his office, red-faced and furious.
"Get to work! All of you. We open in less than an hour." Then he pointed to a pretty blonde. "Jessica! You'll be working hostess today. Go fix your hair and put on some makeup. And tomorrow, wear something nicer."
Jessica paled. "Please, not me, Greg. Hostess duty doesn't get tips, and I need the extra money to—"
"Don't tell me, no! Do it, or you're fired!" he shouted.
Jessica burst into tears.
Karen was horrified and feeling sorry for Jessica.
"I'll do it, Greg."
He glared at her.
"Since when does staff start rearranging my scheduling?"
Karen flinched. "I'm sorry. I was just offering to—"
"You're both fired!" Greg shouted.
Now Jessica and Karen were both crying as they went back to the employee lounge to get their things.
"Then I quit," one waiter said, threw his apron at Greg's feet, and walked out.
"I quit, too," another said, and then another, and then another, until Greg Lassiter was in the dining room alone.
His heart was pounding. This had not just fucking happened!
When he began hearing doors slamming in the kitchen area, he ran back to look.
It was empty, and every appliance had been turned off.
The whole kitchen staff was gone, and it was almost time to open! He locked the front door, then ran to the office to call his boss, Henry Owens.
What he didn't know was that one of the employees had already called him, and by the time Greg called, Henry had already been warned.
Greg had a scenario all set up for himself as he made the call, and when Henry picked up, Greg added concern in his voice to the mix.
"Hello, this is Henry."
"Henry, it's me, Greg. We have a serious situation here at The Beef Master. The whole staff pulled a walk-out and—"
"I heard," Henry said.
Greg's heart dropped. Shit.
"You did? Well, uh—"
"Yes," Henry said. "I'm going to ask you some questions, and I would like direct answers. Yes or no will suffice."
"Uh, okay, but—"
"No buts," Henry said. "Did you have an interview for a hostess job this morning that went awry?"
"Yes, but it wasn't my—"
"Yes or no, remember?" Henry said. "Did your applicant actually say to you, and I'm paraphrasing, 'I won't kiss ass for a job. I won't show my ass for a job. And I won't work for an ass to get it'?"
Greg sighed. "Yes."
"Did you insult her?" Henry asked.
"No! Of course not!" Greg said.
"Then tell me exactly what you said to warrant her outburst, and I'll be the judge."
Greg took a deep breath, trying to even remember what all he'd been saying. "I was explaining that I needed an attractive woman for the position. She was very tall. I mentioned her height, because you and I both know men don't like women to be taller than them. And I told her we catered to fine dining for our clientele and would want someone dressing in what I called classy chic...and something about sexy."
Henry interrupted. "You said 'sexy'?"
Greg frowned. "Yes."
"Go on," Henry said.
"I asked her to walk to