Chapter 2 Ruby
“Oh, yeah. I love me a fully booked day,” I said in a singsong voice as I checked my tablet for tonight’s reservations.
We’d be turning tables at least once, and I was so very grateful for each and every client.
Just one year ago, I never thought it would get to this point.
Ever since I was a little girl, I’d dreamed about opening my own restaurant.
I finally gathered the courage two years ago, only to live in fear of bankruptcy for about nine months.
The beginning was brutal, but things started looking up after a while.
Word spread in the neighborhood first, but ever since some influencers posted about us on social media, we had people from all over Portland coming to dine with us.
The whole team was sitting at the round table next to the bar. We always had lunch here. Our restaurant was small but very cozy. Wooden shelves filled to the brim with bottles contrasted the green marble bar top, the small overhead lights reflecting off both.
My favorite part by far were the huge windows on three walls overlooking the small yard in back, which made the restaurant look much bigger.
Unfortunately, the outdoor space was far too small for us to actually be able to use it.
But every year from June on, we opened all our windows, and it felt as if you were practically outdoors.
“Ruby, do you need me to do anything specific for tonight?” Sherry asked.
She was the restaurant’s manager and my very first hire.
We’d clicked from the get-go, and she had been loyal to me and the restaurant ever since, just like our chef, Richie.
He was an extremely hard worker and kept the kitchen staff in amazing form.
“No, I think we’re good.” But then a thought hit me. “Actually, please check our online booking system again. I feel like there might be an error on the server, like something’s not updating right.”
She smiled. “No error. I checked twice. We really are fully booked. Third time this week. Want a glass of wine to celebrate?”
“Maybe later in the evening.”
Sometimes I had a glass after closing, just to wind down and revel in what I’d accomplished. I lived just two streets away, so I didn’t even have to worry about drinking and driving.
After working my ass off for ten years in the corporate world, I was more than happy to be my own boss. My parents had a restaurant when I was a kid—the hours were long and not very family-friendly, but I’d adored the hustle and bustle. I’d always wanted to follow in their footsteps.
I checked the time. Daphne’s security guy, Grant, was going to arrive soon, so I decided to freshen up a bit and change my attire—something I always did before dinner because I usually worked up a sweat during lunch rush hour.
We had two bathrooms equipped with showers, which made it much easier for everyone—cooking and serving were very physical jobs, and it gave my team the option to clean up here if they wanted.
I stepped under the spray, sighing as the hot water massaged my muscles. A few minutes later, I got out feeling completely refreshed. Even though I’d tied my hair in a bun at the top of my head, I’d still managed to get a few strands wet. Oh well, no big deal.
It was early June, and the weather was pleasant, which was why I was wearing a breezy summer dress.
Glancing in the mirror, I decided to reapply my makeup.
I lathered on a nude lipstick that somehow made my lips even plumper, then diligently applied my foundation again, topping it off with mascara and some eyeshadow.
Once I finished, I took in my reflection and smiled.
Oh yeah, I was ready for the evening. I liked to greet our guests myself even though I had a hostess on staff.
My favorite thing was to go from table to table, making sure everything was going smoothly.
Was it necessary? Probably not, but I enjoyed the experience of it all.
When I returned to the front, I immediately noticed a tall man standing by the door, feet wide apart, hands in his pockets. The guy was huge—maybe an NFL player or something? He was also extremely handsome, with brilliant blue eyes and wavy dark brown hair. I’d never seen him here before.
“Good afternoon. Would you like a table?” I asked him.
Typically, we had one or two walk-ins between lunch and dinner. I was keeping my fingers crossed that he’d recently moved offices here or something, or that he lived nearby. I definitely wouldn’t mind him coming here again.
“Good afternoon, I’m Grant Clifford.”
“Oh, right!” I flashed him a huge smile. For some reason, I was thinking a security guy would be someone older, with a potbelly, maybe. But Mr. Clifford was all muscle from what I could tell. “Hi, I’m Ruby.”
“Yes, I figured.”
“You’re early.”
He cocked a brow. “By two minutes.”
Wow, he was clearly not in the mood to be jovial. I vaguely wondered if he ever was. The vibe I was getting was that he was very serious and all business. What a shame .
“Would you like something to drink before we begin? On the house, of course.”
“No. I’m here to check out the perimeter, and then I’ll be gone.”
All righty then. No sense in wasting any more time. His loss.
“Where would you like to begin?” I asked him.
“Do you have any more dining rooms?”
“No,” I said, holding my arms out at my sides. “This is it.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Very small for a large engagement party.”
“We can rearrange the tables to fit up to sixty people in here.”
His brows shot up, but he quickly schooled his features, his jaw set as he glanced around. “And that isn’t a fire hazard?”
I bristled. “Mr. Clifford, I’m a professional. I’d never do anything that goes against the guidelines. I would’ve told Daphne from the start if I couldn’t accommodate her party.”
“All right.” He seemed to be thinking at a million miles an hour as he inspected every corner. I trailed behind him as he took the lead. “I need to see every room that has a window or a door.”
“Of course. Follow me.”
My team had finished their lunch and were scattered about, resting a bit before our next round of customers. I showed him the bathrooms first.
“That window is small but could still be a hazard.”
Oh, goodness. Grant Clifford was a bit much. It was primarily for air circulation, but what did I know?
He took a picture before we moved on.
“This is the break room for the staff,” I said, opening another door. A couple of the guys were sitting in there chatting before the dinner crowd. I introduced Grant, and they nodded as he continued his inspection.
This room actually did have a door leading to the outside. Grant narrowed his eyes and took more photos before we moved to the pantry. The window here was as small as the one in the bathroom.
“Do you keep this window open permanently?” he asked.
“Yes, it’s good for air circulation.”
“I’ll need that closed during the engagement party.”
“Sure, that won’t be a problem.” I pointed to the final door. “And this is the kitchen.”
When we entered, Richie was already working his magic for dinner. Sherry was looking over a stack of supplies, ticking things off on the iPad. Everyone else was just milling around, doing their thing.
“Hi, everyone,” I said loudly. “This is Grant Clifford. He’s very good friends with Roger and Daphne and will be in charge of security for the event.”
The reaction was a little comical, as we’d never had security for an event before. Even Richie looked up from the pan he was watching intently—he insisted on making the bechamel sauce by himself.
“Nice to meet you all. I won’t take much of your time,” Grant said. “I just want to snap a few pictures.” Turning to me, he added, “And once I’m done here, I want to see the outdoor area.”
I nodded, staying put as he walked around. He looked so out of place in the kitchen with his expensive suit. Richie returned his attention to his cooking.
In the beginning, I’d wanted to help Richie in the kitchen, but he’d immediately informed me that he wanted complete autonomy. So whenever I came in to communicate anything to the staff, I stayed off to the side so they could all do their thing.
Grant only needed a few minutes as he wandered about, snapping photos. His frown deepened as he approached me.
It was obvious that Grant Clifford was a piece of work. A delicious one at that, but still, I really hoped he wasn’t going to ruin my friend’s party by being overly safety-conscious. After that strange call we had, I figured he could be a real stick-in-the-mud, and I wasn’t going to allow it.
* * *
Grant
“You don’t have security cameras on all the windows,” I stated. It was really unheard of in this day and age; everyone at least had a Ring or something equal to that.
She shrugged as she led me out of the kitchen —shrugged! “What’s going to happen? It’s a sleepy neighborhood in Portland.”
“Plenty of statistics about big cities and crime rate.”
She looked over her shoulder. “Boy, aren’t you just full of sunshine? Do you have any more depressing statistics to recite?”
What the hell?
“They’re true even if you don’t like them,” I retorted, a bit of bite in my tone.
Ruby turned around and looked at me with an expression I couldn’t place. She appeared to be very naive—but was also so fucking beautiful that I’d almost done a double take when I first saw her. She twirled a strand of golden hair around her thumb.
“Look, I’ve got sensors at the windows, which the insurance company said are even more useful in case something happens.”
“You need both. Cameras are also proven to be more important for prevention. Anyone who sees them will think twice about breaking in.”
She narrowed her eyes. “My budget was limited when I first started out. But I can have cameras put in.”
“No need. We’ll install some for the event. I’ll instruct my team to put up permanent ones—free of charge, of course.”