Chapter Twelve #2
“Now?”
“Yes. He’s signing autographs. I thought you said he’d get bored and return to LA?”
Bethany clutched the sides of her apron. “Well, he will. I’m sure he’ll be heading back just as soon . . . my God.” Panic shot through her system like a bullet. A line of people snaked out the front door and onto the sidewalk.
“See what I mean? The line keeps getting longer. The news is here filming, and that woman Elizabeth showed up. Angel and I can’t keep up with all the orders. What should we do?”
Bethany took a deep breath to flush the panic from her brain. “He’ll have to leave. I’ll tell him. You keep the real customers happy, and call Rosie to see if she can help.”
The first thing Bethany noticed when she rounded the corner was the almost empty display case that should have housed dozens of donuts but now held only a few and some crumbs.
The second thing was Hank in his element, surrounded by excited fans, all wanting his autograph.
She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “Hank. Hank Haverill. Yoo-hoo. Apollo.”
Hank didn’t glance her way. Neither did anyone else. No one could hear her.
“Hey, can I get some service?” A middle-aged man in a Cleveland Browns jacket leaned on the counter, his lips turned down.
“Yes, I’ll be right with you. I just need to get Hank Haverill’s attention.”
The man scratched his balding head and looked from her to where Hank was surrounded by adoring fans. “He’s never gonna hear you. Can’t you see he’s busy?”
Bethany ignored the man and looked for something to stand on, but every chair was filled.
She thought about standing on the counter, but she could picture the news reporter turning his camera on her and the headline the next day: Grandma Lou’s Owner Distressed Over Sale of Building.
She squeezed herself past the counter. That was as far as she got.
“Hey, get in line, lady. I was here first.”
Bethany turned to see a skinny teenage boy in cutoffs and a tank.
His greasy blond hair covered his eyes. His voice went up and down an octave as teenage boys’ voices tended to do.
Next to him stood two similarly scrawny friends.
Did they have enough to eat? They looked too thin to Bethany.
Their clothes were dirty and torn in spots.
Bethany gave them her sternest look, the one her mother always used when she whined once too often. “I’m sorry, but this is important. I own this restaurant, and I need to talk to Hank Haverill. Move aside.”
“We all want to, lady.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice. “Look how long the line is. We’ve been waiting over an hour. It’s not fair we have to give up our spot.”
Bethany followed his pointed finger out the front door and narrowed her eyes. This was her business. She would not wait in a long line to talk to Hank, and she did not have time to argue with a mouthy adolescent. She drew a breath. “Listen.”
Her mother used to recite a proverb whenever dealing with difficult customers.
Bethany could almost hear her voice. You can catch more flies, Bethany sweetie, with honey rather than vinegar.
Like the sun poking between dark clouds, an idea shimmered in her mind, building in intensity.
She forced her lips into a semblance of what she hoped was a smile.
“How would you three like free donuts while you wait?”
The teens looked at the remaining chocolate donuts with sprinkles in the display case, then to Hank, and back to Bethany. Their eyes widened. “Really?” the first boy asked.
Bethany fixed her smile in place. “Yep. Let me line jump, and you and your friends can have the last three.”
The boy licked his lips. “These are my younger brothers. You got yourself a deal. We’ll take ’em.”
She smiled and nabbed the donuts, but paused before handing them to the boys. “How would you like to earn donuts and breakfast or lunch every day for the rest of the week?”
“What do you mean?” The first boy tilted his head, his expression wary.
Bethany kept her voice professional. “I’m offering you a job in exchange for food.”
The boy’s surly expression vanished, but suspicion flared from his brown eyes. “What job?”
“I could use some extra hands to wash dishes this week. As you can see, we’ve had a rush of customers.”
“Seriously?” The suspicion was replaced by cautious enthusiasm.
“Yes. See that man over there? That’s my brother, Travis. He can show you what to do. Give me two hours of your time each morning, and you’ll each earn donuts and a meal. Interested?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the first boy responded for the group.
“What are your names?”
“I’m Sean, that’s Liam, and he’s Declan.” The boy pointed at each brother in turn.
Bethany firmed her lips. “Okay, Sean, Liam, and Declan. I do have a few rules. No swearing, and you’ll wash your hands before you get started and any time you use the restroom.”
The boys passed each other a look before the oldest boy spoke again. “Yes, ma’am.”
She grimaced. “And everyone around here calls me Bethany.”
The boys nodded and the spokesperson responded. “Okay, Bethany.”
Bethany proffered a donut to each of them in turn, along with a smile, and moved in front of them in line.
“You,” Elizabeth said, when Bethany had made it near the front fifteen minutes later.
“Me.” Bethany kept her smile firmly in place. “I run this place, remember? I need to talk to Hank. Get me to the front of the line.”
Elizabeth looked at her like she had an orange for a head. “I’m sorry. It wouldn’t be fair. There’s someone ahead of you. How do you spell your name?”
Bethany wrinkled her nose. “B-E-T-H-A-N-Y.”
“Spell your last name.”
“P-A-R-K-E-R. What’s this for?”
Elizabeth wrote her name on a sticky note and gave it to Bethany. “Give it to Hank. Here’s paper.”
Bethany clenched her jaw. “I don’t want his autograph. I need to talk to him.”
“Well, now’s your chance.”
The couple in front of her moved to the side, and like the parting of the Red Sea, there stood Hank in all his god-like glory.
“There you are.” He smiled as if he’d been waiting for her the whole time and not the other way around. “I’ve been hoping to talk to you.” He took the piece of paper, his eyes lighting up like twin sparklers. “You want my autograph?”
“No, I don’t want your autograph.” She snatched the paper from his hand. “What I want is for you to leave the premises. Now.”
His smile dissolved. “And here I thought you’d be happy to see me.” He waved a hand at the crowd. “I know this is a little wild, but it’s got to be good for business.”
“Hank, a crowd of people this size is gonna want to be fed.”
His smile reappeared, triumphant. “Right.”
“Our restaurant isn’t equipped to feed a crowd this large.”
“Oh.” His face fell. “Sorry, I didn’t think about that.”
“You need to get out. Fast. Take your fan base elsewhere or tell them you’re done, and they should go home.”
“Elizabeth’s not going to like this.”
“Tough.”
“Smile.” Elizabeth pointed a cell phone in their faces.
“No.” Bethany shook her head. “Absolutely not.”
“Don’t be a spoilsport. Hank’s Instagram account gets millions of hits every day. Think about how good all this is for your business.”
Hank put an arm around her. Bethany opened her mouth to argue, and Elizabeth snapped the picture.
“Next,” she said.
Bethany did not move. “You need to end this now.”
“Yes.” Hank’s eyes glittered, and Bethany realized she had underestimated him again. “If you have dinner with me tonight. We can talk about the repairs I’m making to the building, and I’ll give you the lease agreement I promised.”
“Next!” Elizabeth shouted.
“Move, woman, you’re holding up the line,” someone behind her shouted.
“Well?” Hank asked with a grin. “Shall we end the chaos in exchange for one measly meal?”
“I’ll have dinner with you, Apollo honey.”
Bethany turned to see Daphne Miller in a set of four-inch-high electric-blue heels, skimpy shorts, and a bikini top that showed off her recent boob job.
“My turn, Bethany sweetie.” She smirked, cutting in front of the teens, who were too busy downing the donuts and wiping sticky fingers on their clothes to protest. “How do you feel about dogs?” she asked Hank.
Bethany had seen and heard enough. She turned to Hank. “Get rid of this crowd, and I’ll have dinner with you.”
Hank grinned. “You said the magic words.”