Knocking Boots - Willow Winters Page 0,24

her more than anyone to do it right.

I rinse the mug out before setting it into the dishwasher and when she doesn’t respond I know she’s waiting for me to turn off the faucet and face her. Which is just what I do. Leaning against the sink makes me feel that much more tired.

“I am. And you didn’t have to do this,” she says as she gestures outward.

I shrug. Throwing the dish towel back down, I push off the sink. There are a number of issues I have, I know as much because my sister and Mags are real good at pointing them out. One of them is that I don’t like handing off responsibility. It matters too much. This bar is what I have. It’s all I have.

“You have control issues,” Maggie tells me. Okay, so I have the bar and control issues. I’m fine with those two. She checks one of the boxes closer to her, peeking in and nodding before she crosses her arms across her chest.

“What else am I gonna do other than keep my baby in shape?” I ask. I’m trying to be lighthearted, but the question makes my stomach sink.

I’ve got no one waiting for me at home and nothing to do besides run the bar. It never used to get to me, but the thought is making me second-guess everything as I close up the box she just opened.

This feeling inside of me reminds me of Grace of all people. The ache in my chest that creeps up out of nowhere. It’s been two days since we had our moment and took that picture and all. Last night she came in for a moment, but didn’t stay long. We were packed too. I barely had a chance to talk to her.

“You need a hobby, Charlie... a girlfriend.” She adds the last part beneath her breath, but I heard it and the subtle dig in her tone. Giving her a side eye, I watch her as she grabs the aprons off the hooks and bundles them in her arms. Laundry.

Irritation settles deep in my chest. I don’t need another woman telling me to settle down. God forbid I do get a girlfriend and she’s just one more woman to point out all of my errors. I stare at the stacked boxes for a second and then realize I need the clipboard. It’s been a long damn night, but it’s best I get this taken care of before I place the next order.

I have to walk around Maggie to get to where I’m going at the side of the back room, farthest from the dining area.

“You know,” Maggie calls out to me. I snatch up the board and pen from where I left them on my desk. “I really think you should hire a manager.”

Her arms are still full of the aprons as I come out of my office. She blinks once and waits for a response.

It takes me a moment for her words to sink in. I don’t have fucking time to find someone to help me, let alone actually train them and show them how all this works.

“I don’t think so, Maggie,” I answer her easily.

“I could find one. I could do the interviews and training,” she offers as I look down the checklist, trying to focus. I read the same line three times as her offer hovers in the air.

No answer comes from me, not right now when I need to get this right. Three more items for the local beer truck and I rub my eyes and slap the clipboard down. It’s a normal delivery, but a few brands just aren’t selling. I’m not ordering them anymore. They’re seasonal, and not many customers seem to be going for them.

Mags steps closer to me, crossing her arms and waiting for me to look up before she says, “You can’t do this on your own.”

“It’s been working out so far.” The words slip out, but my lighthearted playfulness is absent. Exhaustion weighing it all down. I know she’s right and in the long run it would help. It’s just that it’s going to set me back right now to take someone on and spend time training him or her, moving slower than if I just did it all myself. Mags would probably hire a friend or family member. She’s got a big heart and I love that about her. But hiring friends and family doesn’t always work out. It causes even more problems.