Chapter 3 #2
“Um. No, thank you, I’m good.”
“Great.” Lou pointed to a table in a quiet corner of the dining room. “Have a seat over there. I’ll join you in a minute. I just have to grab an application from the office.”
“Okay.”
So it was a good thing she'd told Seth and Marla her real name since Lou would undoubtedly run a background check before hiring her.
The more she thought about it, there really was no reason to hide where she came from.
Shane either knew about her or he didn't, and until proven otherwise, she was going with the latter.
It was a gut feeling. He'd probably be shocked to learn he had a half-sister, but what happened after that depended on whether he believed her and was willing to split the inheritance.
Greed made people do unimaginable things—case in point, Troy. He'd steal from family and friends without a second thought. She'd expected him to be in prison by now for something more serious than the string of misdemeanors that had landed him in the county jail over the years.
She took a seat and glanced around the room, but Shane wasn't among the patrons.
She hadn't found him on social media, but the Red River Ranch website had several photos of him.
Other than their black hair, Shylo didn't think they looked anything alike.
Shane had inherited Peter Wilson's features, while she took after her mother.
The obituary contained the only photo Shylo had found of Peter.
He'd died thirteen years ago, and that was when the monthly checks stopped.
Shylo hadn't even known they existed until five years later, when her mother's failing health and mounting medical bills forced Heidi to admit the “inheritance” from a distant relative had actually been child support from the father Shylo had never known.
She still didn't know whether the payments stopped because Peter's family didn't know about her or because they did—and chose to cut her off.
Either way, if her mother had told the truth about the paternity test and the private investigator's findings were accurate, then Shylo was entitled to part of Shane's inheritance. She'd only been able to afford a bare-bones investigation, but it was enough to bring her to Hazard Falls.
She didn't think wanting what she was owed made her greedy.
Even with Peter's support, her mother's salary as a school secretary barely covered the bills.
Vacations, new cars, and brand-name clothes had been luxuries they couldn't afford, though Troy always demanded expensive things—or cash, once he got older.
Fear and guilt usually won, and Heidi gave in more often than she should have.
Shylo couldn't blame her. They'd both suffered under Troy's hands more than once.
Lou appeared and sat across the table from her.
“Sorry I took so long. One of my vendors called with a delivery problem. I hate when their problems suddenly become mine, but that’s business.
Anyway, here’s the application.” She handed Shylo a sheet of paper and a pen.
“I assume Marla told you the job is a server position.”
“Yes, she did. And I have experience. I waited tables for several years in West Virginia. I had to quit a few months ago because my mother was very sick.” She’d had to choose between working her two jobs or being there for her mom at the end of her long fight.
Her restaurant hours went late into the night, so she gave that up and kept her day job when the hospice aides were available to stay with her mom. Thankfully, insurance covered that.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope she’s okay.”
“No, she... uh... passed away four months ago. Lung cancer.”
Lou’s expression softened. “I’m sorry. I know how that feels. I lost my mom to brain cancer when I was twenty, and my dad retired from running this place after he had a quadruple bypass four years ago. Thankfully, he’s healthier now more than ever.”
“That’s good to hear.” She paused. “Um... that’s the only reference I have for restaurant experience. I worked at a clothing store until last week, but things didn’t end well between me and my supervisor, so I doubt he’ll be a good reference.”
“What happened?”
She shrugged and lowered her voice so as not to be overheard by any customers, even though no one was close to their table.
“I wouldn’t blow him in the stockroom like the other two female employees would.
He was a pompous asshole, three years younger than me, and I hated him.
The feeling was mutual, even though he wouldn’t mind if I blew him, but he couldn’t fire me without the regional manager finding out about his fraternization.
He would’ve lost his job, and the company would’ve been sued.
I told him that my first phone call would be to his boss if he tried to fire me, and I have a few incriminating photos on my cell and backed up elsewhere as proof.
Anyway, when I gave my two-week notice, he cursed me out and said not to bother using him as a reference.
I worked there for five years and got passed over for men every time a supervisor position opened up. The misogyny there is off the charts.”
Lou’s eyes widened in disgust. “Girl! What the hell? Why did you work there so long? The first time he asked for a BJ, I would’ve kneed him so hard, his balls would be lodged in his throat.”
“Trust me, I was tempted.” She lifted her shoulders and dropped them again.
A sly grin spread across her face. “But I got my revenge. On my last day, because I felt like being petty, I screwed up every sale, so he had to come out of his office to enter his code, voiding the sale so I could start over. It was busy that day. I put the wrong price tags on a bunch of new merchandise, so it’ll screw up this month’s inventory.
I also left the dressing room a mess, like a huuuge mess, for his two work-tarts to clean up the next morning.
It was worth it since I wouldn’t get a reference anyway. ”
She didn’t know why she confessed all that, but her potential boss’s grin and laughter said she was cool with it. “Anyway, it paid the bills. There weren’t many job opportunities where I lived that didn’t require a college degree and paid more than minimum wage.”
Surprisingly, Lou reached over and patted Shylo’s hand.
“I get it. I don’t have a degree either, but I took a few business classes, like accounting and marketing, so I could help run this place.
I’ve worked every position here, learning from the ground up, since I was thirteen.
I knew it would be mine eventually, but I expected my dad to work here until the day he died.
He almost did.” She smiled. “Now, he’s a non-paying customer who brings his lady friend in for dinner every Thursday night.
He met her through a support group for people who lost their spouses, and they hit it off.
I’m happy for him, and she keeps him from trying to come back here to work, so I like her a lot.
Dad made this place a successful mainstay in Hazard, but we have different styles of doing things. ”
Lou rolled her eyes. “Now that I have shared half of my family's history with you, let's discuss the job.
“Okay, here’s my extra-long spiel. I give it to every new hire because we’ve had issues in the past. Around here, everyone helps everyone.
If you’ve got a free minute and someone else is running their tail off, jump in.
They’ll do the same for you. The servers pool their tips and split them evenly, with the bussers getting a percentage.
The bartenders and barbacks do the same, but their tips stay separate. ”
Shylo nodded. That seemed fair enough.
“Be honest. Don’t skim tips, alter credit card receipts, give away food or drinks, or steal from me in any other way. The last guy lost his job for comping meals for his girlfriend and her friends, and they’re all banned now.
“Also, no drinking or drugs while you’re working. Even the bartenders fake customer shots with water if they have to. Once you’re off the clock, though, your first drink’s on the house—as long as it’s not top shelf.”
“I can live with those rules,” Shylo said with a grin.
Lou laughed. “Most people can.”
Leaning forward, she rested her forearms on the table.
“Friday and Saturday nights are our busiest because of the live music, so expect to hustle.
You'll be busier than a rooster at a hen party.
The regulars tip well if you take care of them.
A handful have house accounts, but all you need is their signature. I handle the billing.
“If somebody gets too drunk, tell the bartenders so they can cut them off and arrange a ride. If a fight breaks out, get yourself and the rest of the staff into the kitchen while the bouncers deal with it. If someone skips out on their bill, don't chase them. Let a manager know—we've got cameras.”
She took a deep breath and kept going.
Seeing the expression on Shylo's face, she chuckled. "Almost done, I promise.
“We also cater events and work the rodeo, parades, and street fairs, so if you want extra hours, sign up. We’re family-friendly until eight, then it’s adults only except for private parties. Kids can't be in the bar area, and anyone fourteen or younger needs an adult with them in the game room.”
She sat back in her chair. “Most importantly, if a customer gives you trouble—whether they're rude, drunk, inappropriate, or decide your ass belongs to them—you come find me or one of the managers.
Don't argue with them yourself. I take care of my employees. All I ask in return is that you respect me, your coworkers, and my customers.”