Chapter 6 Tobias
Tobias
“Thanks, Tobs!” Yasmin smiles, dashing off to drop her bags before her hosting shift starts.
“Anytime.” I wave. Sometimes I have to drive her to work when her parents can’t. I don’t mind the company, so it’s nice.
Stacy, our daytime bartender, runs up to me the moment I step through the doors. “Tobias, thank God you’re here.”
“What’s up, Stace?” I grip the caramel macchiato in my hand.
“The mini fridge shut down again. It’s been down for God knows how long. I had to gut all the sangria mix, start over, and make new ones.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Dammit—that’s going to be expensive. “Okay, just put everything in the walk-in fridge for now, and I’ll order another one tonight.”
I can see the pout on her face, but I hold up my hand to stop her. “Please?”
She rolls her eyes and heads off to do as I say.
Before I take another step, Claire runs up to me, a big smile plastered on her face. “Hey, Boss, so I was thinking—”
Oh, no. That’s never a good thing. I round the corner toward my office. She follows close behind.
“Gabe is on the schedule today, and I was thinking maybe I could train him?” she pleads.
“Stacy’s supposed to train him,” I say, placing my coffee on my desk.
“Yeah, but anyone who has ever bartended can bartend. I can show him the POS system, the floorplan, all that jazz.” She bounces on her toes, looking at me like I’m a genie about to grant her biggest wish.
I sigh, finally sitting in my seat and taking a moment. “Yeah. Okay, I guess it doesn’t matter who trains him.”
Claire lets out a high-pitched squeal and claps her hands together. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
I can’t help but smile. I know how it feels to have a crush. I get it.
At that reminder, I take out my phone from my back pocket and flick on my wallpaper screen.
Elijah’s smile brightens the screen, making my heart swell.
Maybe before I go over the schedule, I can call him—
Suddenly, there’s another knock at the door.
“What now—”
My eyes widen.
Ooops.
This time, it isn’t Claire, Stacy, or anyone else I work with.
Instead, it’s a tall, distinguished gentleman, dressed to the nines, with warm dark skin, a bald head, and a cool demeanor. This guy drips business, and judging by his thick watch and shiny shoes, I can tell he means it.
“Oh, sorry. Hi—hello.” I stutter, standing up.
“No worries.” He lifts his hand. “I can only imagine how busy you are. You probably have people coming in all hours of the day.” He flashes a knowing grin, making me smile.
“Is it that obvious?” I laugh, then remember I have no idea who this man is. “Sorry—have we met before?”
“No, we haven’t. Hartman. Paul Hartman.” He extends his hand, which I take and firmly shake.
“Please, sit.” He gestures toward my chair.
“Tobias Voss.” I sit back in my chair. His name sounds so familiar. “Hartman…like Hartman & Company?”
Why is one of the top businessmen in this province here in my office? Hartman & Co. is known for the corporations that flow through this and the surrounding cities. What could he want with a little family-owned restaurant?
A smile creeps onto his lips. “Exactly.” He nods as he walks around my office, taking in the plaques on the wall and books on the shelves.
After the fire last year, we put as much as we could from Elijah’s house into this office.
Books, pictures, memories. It’s all Jude Thorne’s.
The reminder may sting, but I’ll never let any of it go. This office will forever be his.
As though he can hear my thoughts, Paul stops at the picture of Jude right beside the door. It’s a beautiful shot of him when this place became his. Everyone is outside, surrounding him. It’s a picture of love and family. It’s everything he was.
“Well, what do I owe the pleasure? You must be a busy man yourself,” I say, clasping my hands on the desk.
“That’s exactly why I’m here, actually.” He turns back to me and strides over. “Jude’s Place has really captured the attention of a lot of folks around here. My guess is it had something to do with you.”
My cheeks burn. “Well, I wouldn’t say that. Jude put in a lot of work before he left us. I’ve just maintained.”
“Maintained or nurtured?” He stands by the door, looking out at the restaurant. “The way I see it, you made this place come alive. You gutted it and flipped it, and now the age of the clientele has completely changed.”
My brows lift high, eyes wide with surprise. Has he been watching us?
“Y-yeah, well.” I stand up from my desk and walk up beside him. “The bar section helped with that. And I guess the paint job. All it needed was just a little modernizing.” I shrug.
Paul studies me quietly, his gaze sharp.
I swallow thickly. “Why are you here exactly?”
“I think you’ve got an eye for this, kid. You really do.”
I look down at my feet. “That’s really nice of you to say—”
“I also think you’re just a kid.” He adds.
My eyebrows draw together. “Excuse me?”
He rests his hand on my shoulder, the energy between us shifting. “This is a lot to take on at your age. You’ve got school, parties, and girls to worry about. Why would you want all of this pressure?” He looks at me with concern.
“I’ve been handling it just fine,” I say, shifting out of his reach.
He throws his hands up in surrender. “Oh, it looks like you have. But I also think you don’t have to—alone.” He takes out his card from his back pocket and hands it over to me.
“Jude’s Place is just the beginning. Imagine someone helping you and watching it become something bigger…”
Help me?
Like, by handing it over? My chest locks up as panic spreads within me.
This isn’t mine to give… it’s Jude’s.
I look down at the card in my hand as he continues.
“I’m talking about multiple locations, commercials, hell, even endorsements. Jude’s Place can become everyone’s place.”
“You want to change this into a chain? A corporation?” I ask.
Paul shakes his head. “I want to give you your youth back. Retired at…what are you? Twenty years old? Come on. It’s a deal of a lifetime, kid.” He smiles and gives me a quick wink. “Why don’t you think about it? Talk it over with…Elijah. His son, right?”
I give him a slow nod.
“Yeah, talk to him. I’ll be in touch. How about making your decision by…let’s say, the end of October?”
His words sound less like an offer and more like a countdown.
He starts to leave the office.
“Okay,” is all I can manage. What the hell just happened?
“End of October, Tobias.” He repeats, pointing at me.
I nod, waving the card before he leaves the restaurant.
Claire stops in her tracks, eyes wide. “Wait—was that who I think it was?”
“Yup,” I answer.
She looks at me, jaw slack, as we both stand there still, staring at the door.