style="font-size:15px;"> As though sensing his thoughts, she lifted her chin. “I’m only trying to help.”
Jack wasn’t so sure. She seemed bent on opposing him at every turn. Regardless, in light of the time crunch, he found himself increasingly irritated that she wasn’t simply taking orders. At least Perry had simmered down to a quiet sulk.
Hopefully Olivia’s spunkiness wouldn’t turn her into a troublemaker or drag things out here. Especially considering a fourth of them were working the morning shift today. Soon.
Choosing, for time’s sake, not to engage Olivia’s stubbornness, Jack spread the schedule out and clicked its identical image on his video presentation. “First order of business is cost control. Starting today, I want syrup and sugar shakers only half filled on tables. Ketchup and mustard will only be placed on tables when customers ask. We’ll also use—”
Olivia’s hand shot up.
Jack paused. “Yes, Miss Abbott?”
“I’m wondering how that will cut costs.”
“I was getting to that,” he said with more edge than he’d intended. “If the containers are full, customers will inadvertently use more.” It had worked in the service. He hoped customers would catch on. “We’ll also use cloth napkins instead of paper.”
Olivia raised her hand again. Jack fought irritation at the intrusion. “Yes?”
“Cloth napkins will need to be washed and dried. That will use electricity. Electricity costs money. Plus the water needed to wash the towels. And detergent. That costs money, too.”
“I’m well aware of the costs, Miss Abbott. I’m installing new efficient washers and dryers. If I’ve estimated correctly, cloth is far more cost effective. Especially since Eagle Point customers love to smuggle handfuls of our paper napkins out in their pockets and purses.”
She nibbled her lip but didn’t argue. Yet the expression on her face clearly said and you don’t think they’ll smuggle cloth napkins out, too? Cloth would be less of a temptation. Most customers would feel bad taking them home. Hopefully.
And just because he was irritated, Jack added, “Only fill the salt and pepper shakers halfway, as well. I’m also going to crack down on tardiness and missing food items. That means you will fill out inventory sheets each time you use something up. No more taking boxes of meat home,” he directed to Perry, whom he knew had taken a box for a barbecue and beer bash at his house and hadn’t paid for it. “Or any other food and supplies, for that matter. Taking something that’s not rightfully yours is considered theft and is grounds for termination. Do I make myself clear?”
“Can we buy cases of stuff if you have enough?” Naem asked.
“If we have plenty of it in stock and you note the transaction on inventory sheets, yes.”
Naem nodded. Perry sank lower into a slouch, bad attitude wafting off him like steam.
“Next item on the agenda is hours of operation. I have no idea why Dad did this but it’s not prudent to delay opening a restaurant until nine in the morning. That’s a lot of lost revenue from potential early eater breakfast patrons.”
His voice seemed to have obliterated all the air in the room because Olivia’s face paled. Naem, Darin and Patrice slid Olivia glances that told him there was definitely a story behind why his dad had decided to open the diner later and close it earlier. That story had to do with Olivia.
Other employees, waitstaff plus another assistant cook from the opposite shift, began to notice the shift in the atmosphere because they darted glances between Olivia and her day-shift crewmates. No matter. He couldn’t be derailed or they’d lose the diner. And, in turn, everyone sitting here would be unemployed. He couldn’t let that happen.
Furthermore, saving the business that meant so much to his father was Jack’s chance to make it up to him for not being around.
Dad’s narrowed hours of operation had been a bad move. That initial bank call on Dad’s phone at EPTC had nearly put Jack in the stroke wing beside his father. Jack hated taking drastic measures, but the business would go under if he didn’t. He couldn’t let Dad’s future fade without a fight. That meant staying open during ideal meal hours. The diner’s precarious financial state and Dad’s health had made huge impacts on Jack and cemented his decision to stay in town and take over running the place.
“Effective immediately, we will open at six a.m. and close at nine p.m. on weekdays, seven a.m. on weekends with closing time at ten p.m. That means I need the morning crew to be here an hour before opening and the evening crew will need to stick around an hour or so after closing to get things ready for the next day.”
Several eyes shot to Olivia. She kept her face down. Jack looked at her hands, tightly clutching her bag strap. She was squeezing the fiber out of it. Obviously, by the sympathetic looks rallying around her, the new hours would be a hardship on her. But Jack was not about to let his family’s legacy die because one employee had issues with inconvenient hours. He felt firm about it and wise in his decision.
So why, then, did mercy needle his conscience over Olivia?
“Guys, I know this is a lot to take in. But it makes the most sense. Okay?”
Everyone, including Olivia, nodded. But she never looked up. Jack would pull her aside later and privately ask her why she was upset about the hours. He didn’t intend to stress her out. He just wanted to save the family diner and secure Dad’s future. Especially if Sully ended up unable to return to work.
That would throw Jack’s life into a tailspin. He’d always envisioned himself serving decades in the military before retiring. At this point he still planned on returning to duty once Dad and the diner got back on their feet. He’d wanted to reach twenty years of service. But fate clearly had other ideas. He wished Olivia knew he understood how she felt. Sully’s stroke had sent several lives into chaos. They needed to band together and do what it took to get through this.
After going over other items of business, Jack concluded the meeting and bought his employees breakfast out of his own pocket. It was the least he could do. None of this was their fault.
Rather than eat her meal, Olivia slid the tray toward Darin and sprang out of her chair. Jack watched her friends’ concerned, crestfallen expressions as Olivia rushed out the door. Jack tossed Darin the diner keys, called, “Take charge until I return,” and sprinted out the door after her, not even sure why, and convinced he was making a mistake.
Yet something compelled him to do it anyhow.
She barely made it to the end of the block before he slowed his pursuit in order not to startle her. She was obviously lost in thought and oblivious to his approach.
“Miss Abbott?”
Her steps stuttered but didn’t stop.
“Please wait. I just need a moment of your time.”
She paused but didn’t turn around. Her arm came up to swipe across her face—she was crying.
He stepped close enough to rest a hand on her shoulder. “Olivia.”
She stiffened at his use of her first name. It had surprised him, too.
“What?”
