large trays bustled past with sweat dripping down their necks.
“I’m Monica, by the way,” the blonde hostess said to me from over her shoulder while diving around a tipsy man looking for the bathroom. She paused to spin him in the right direction before continuing. “I’m glad Rose is finally hiring more people. We’ve been short-staffed for a few weeks, and although the extra shifts are nice, it might be good to have a break every now and then,” she said. Monica had a Southern accent that was both sweet and sassy.
“Are the hours good?” I asked while dodging another waitress. A few women in the corner were sipping on wine and laughing loudly. The shouting people, flat screens, and music made it hard to hear.
Monica spun around once we hit the back door leading to the kitchens before speaking again. “Honey, if you want work, there’s plenty around here to do. Do you have any waitressing experience?”
I had worked at a couple diners here and there before getting hired on at the power plant. Back when I thought college was an option, I figured even if I were just a custodian, it would look good on a resume. But now, I would take work pretty much anywhere. “I’ve worked at a few restaurants,” I replied.
“Good enough for me,” Monica replied. “I’m a shift manager, which means I’ll probably be responsible for training you. I hope you learn fast, because tonight a local band is playing, and it’ll be all hands on deck.”
Monica opened the door with her back, and I was led inside to a frantic kitchen. Men in white aprons were yelling at one another, flinging plates as they went. The energy seemed high and stressful. I kind of liked it. Monica ignored a tall man with bulging muscles that tried speaking to her, his sultry eyes looking her up and down as she directed me toward the back office. She didn’t even seem to notice him.
“Good luck. Rose is a little…different. This restaurant is her baby though.”
“I like different. Thanks for the tour,” I replied.
With a single nod, Monica knocked on the door and left me standing there. She walked back through the chaotic kitchen and into the central part of the restaurant.
“Come in,” a voice on the other side of the door called. Surprisingly, I detected a hint of a British accent. Twisting the doorknob, I opened the door and slipped inside the stark, clean office. Compared to the rustic vibe of the restaurant, this office was spotless. I doubted it ever saw a speck of dust. Crisp, white walls filled four corners, and her white desk stood in the middle on marble tile. It felt like I was walking into an entirely different building.
“You Blake?” a voice drenched in a posh accent asked. I turned my gaze to the woman sitting at the desk. She had long, dark hair with wiry curls. Her white, button-up shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a nude bra underneath. Her dark skin was smooth and silky, and her eyes were a bright shade of brown that looked both stoic and disarming. I found myself thinking how beautiful she was as she stared expectantly at me. It wasn’t until she coughed that I realized that she had asked me a question.
“Oh, yes. I’m Blakely. Decker’s…friend?” Was that what we were? Saying he was my long lost brother’s sexy best friend slash roommate felt like an overshare.
“I don’t like Blakely. Kind of a mouthful, yeah? Blake it is,” she replied before grabbing a coffee mug that said Head Bitch In Charge and taking a sip.
“Works for me,” I replied with a shrug.
Rose slammed her coffee mug down and stood up, placing her hands on her hips. “Girl. Within five seconds of meeting you, I changed your goddamn name. Have some self-respect!” I was so thrown off by her outburst that I could only stand there and gape at her.
“Okay. The name is Blakely, not Blake. Though if I’m being honest, I always wanted to go by my middle name, Winter. My last name is Stewart…”
“Now that’s just too much information. I don’t want your life story, Blake. I want you to stand up for yourself, okay? Let’s try this again. I’m going to insult you by calling you Blake, and you’re going to professionally correct me in a way that creates a clear boundary while being polite. Okay?”
What the fuck kind of job did I get myself into? “Okay?” I replied, not sure