Chapter 16
Alex
What a giant fucking mess!
This whole thing is jinxed. First that damn chili, and just when I was about to tell her about my business interest in her shop and the competition with Jake that came with it, her smartphone vibrated and she said she had to go.
Just like that. Her friend Veronica must think she can bother Beth every time something goes wrong with her baby. Okay, that was mean, since I have no idea what it’s like to raise a baby alone.
Beth is probably her only support, and yet—just as we were about to kiss, another message.
Nothing is working out. Not even a kiss!
And definitely not telling the truth. There's always some shit getting in the way, like these two closed branches with pissed-off customers who want to eat their burgers and are now probably heading over to Jake’s Burger.
That’s exactly what Eric’s message said. The two stores not far from here couldn’t open today because more than two-thirds of the scheduled shift didn't show up for work.
"A strike," Eric explains when I call him right after Beth hastily took off. I'll have to figure something out about Beth. But for now, I had to deal with this problem here and now.
"We should fire the strikers. All of them," I say angrily.
"Then we'll have staffing problems not just in the short term, but in the long term, too," Eric explains.
"This is bullshit," I say, slamming my hands on the steering wheel. "Which locations are they? I'll head over there right now."
"Boss? There's no point. No one's there."
"Then inform the head of HR. Have him send one person from each of the surrounding locations. He needs to make sure every position is filled. We can't just…" I snap at my assistant.
"That's exactly what I tried, boss. But the head of HR said there's no way. A lot of people are out sick right now, and throwing together an unfamiliar team on such short notice will cause more chaos than it'll solve."
"Dammit," I snap, knowing my assistant was right. "But there has to be something we can do," I bark at him, annoyed, even though I know there’s really no short-term solution.
"Alright, the stores will stay closed tonight. But let's at least put up signs informing visitors that the staff is out sick, and we'll revise the schedules tomorrow morning," I say after a pause.
"I'll see to it," says Eric.
Annoyed, we end the call, and I wonder what I should do with the rest of my evening. Eric’s right. Driving to the locations is pointless.
My phone rings again. At first, I think Eric wants to clarify something, but when I see Jake's name on the display, I have a hunch he might be behind this whole mess.
Sure, it's only two locations, but he knows how I tick and how much it pisses me off when customers get angry.
"Yeah?" I ask simply as I answer the call.
"Your date didn't go as planned?" he asks in that despicable, gloating tone of his.
"Are you having me followed, or what is this bullshit?" I growl.
"Well, if you hire a private detective to lurk in front of her shop, it's fair game, isn't it?" he asks in an indifferent tone, and I feel the urge to break his nose.
"What do you want?" I ask, deciding not to fall for his provocation this time.
"Nothing. Just wanted to say I'm sorry about your two closed stores. Your people must be so underpaid. That doesn't happen at Jake's, by the way, and…"
"Asshole," I yell and hang up.
******
"At least I can count on you, Cutie," I say as I enter my villa and stroke the little cat that comes purring toward me.
My anger at Jake has subsided a bit, and Eric informed me that the signs have been put up—along with a coupon code for angry customers to get a free burger at another location.
A really good idea. That's why it's so important for your own employees to be better than the boss.
I just have to pull the strings and keep an eye on the strategy.
Since the problem seems to be solved, at least for now, my thoughts are circling back to Beth.
And the fact that another missed kiss stands between us.
I think about my lips touching hers as I get into bed and feel how much I'd love to explore her small, perfect body with my hands and my tongue.
Regardless of the thing with her shop, I definitely want her in my bed.
That becomes clear to me as I lie here all alone, thinking of her.
Sorry about the abrupt end to tonight. Everything's sorted out on my end. You? I write to her, staring at the smartphone, the only source of light in my bedroom.
To my delight, I see that Beth is typing back immediately.
Yeah, all sorted out here too. I'm sorry too, about the chili and the quick exit.
I have to grin like a dumb teenager reading her message. She wants it. Probably just as much as I do. I see she’s still online. She's waiting. For a reply from me.
My place tomorrow night? No phones? No interruptions or emergencies, and we can talk about the things we were interrupted from today.
After sending the message and reading it again, I realize how ambiguous that must sound, so I add:
What I mean is, I still wanted to tell you something.
But that’s not entirely true. I also want to touch her, kiss her, and… damn, how long has it been since I last had sex? Could it be that my imagination is running wild? I'm lying in bed alone, texting a woman I've only had sex with once, over a year ago, and I have a boner?
Beth’s reply takes a long time. I wonder if I did something wrong again without knowing it. Then, a full three minutes later, her message arrives:
I still need to figure something out. I'll let you know, okay?
What does she always have to figure out? Does she have to reschedule her babysitting with Veronica? Does she have other plans? I don't get it, but I still write back, OK, good night, even though it feels like she just turned me down without actually saying no.
Has anyone ever actually turned me down before? I can't remember. Maybe that's why this feels so weird right now.
My smartphone vibrates again, and I assume it’s another message from Beth, but it's my assistant, Eric.
Bad quarterly results are in. Sending the numbers by email.
"Shit," I mutter and get up again to look at the data on my laptop. Eric has instructions to always send me the data immediately. I’m glad for it, even though I know the document will cost me my sleep.
The numbers look anything but good, though not alarming. But I can't stand that our profits are sinking while Jake is raking in more and more cash. It pisses me off.
Then I scroll to the end of the data, because there’s usually a drafted proposal there, which I prefer to a constant analysis of mistakes. After all, it's about what you can do better to get out of the mess.
There it is. Formulated concisely as a recommendation:
Buy shop on 4th Street, as well as the entire block. Build shopping mall, rent out stores, and have a burger joint for customers both inside and outside the mall.
Dammit, that was a really good idea. I read through the details and see that an analysis of existing shopping malls is attached. There really is no shopping center nearby. This could be a real money-making machine.
But it still comes down to this: I need Beth's shop for it. And for that, I have to talk to her!