Chapter 2
Sam
The only job I’d ever had, the only job I’d ever wanted to have, was working at Common Grounds.
I’d started helping out after school, sweeping up and bussing tables, when I was in middle school, shortly after Mom and Dad opened the place.
I’d worked more formally as a barista through high school, and as soon as I’d started taking business classes in college, Dad had put me to work on the café’s books and taught me everything he knew about the ins and outs of running a business.
I felt the weight of those lessons on my shoulders as I sat at the desk in the back office, staring at spreadsheets on the computer with a sense of impending dread in my gut.
“These numbers can’t be right,” I muttered to myself, rubbing the bottom half of my face as I frowned at the screen. I clicked to another spreadsheet, one with expenditures, then back to the one showing our income for the last month.
It didn’t matter how many promises Kyle Jameson had made about the construction next door not interfering with the café’s foot traffic or how diligently Diccon and his new boyfriend, Theo, had tried to find solutions that would make the interruptions to our traffic as minimal as possible.
The facts were right there in front of me.
Since construction had started, Common Grounds had seen a nearly forty percent drop in revenue.
I groaned and leaned back in my chair, gaze still fixed on the computer screen but not really seeing the dire figures there anymore.
It could be argued that this wasn’t the end of the world.
Construction on the shop next door was halfway done.
The whole thing wouldn’t go on forever. We could make it through until everything was finished, and once the gourmet shop Jameson had apparently found to move into the new space was set up, it really could bring us more business.
But it all might be too little too late. We could sustain ourselves at these levels, but if we lost any more customers, if new people stopped finding us and giving us a shot, we might have to start letting non-family employees go.
My thoughts zipped straight to one particular non-family employee as soon as the uncomfortable idea of letting someone go snuck up on me. Every single person Common Grounds employed was irreplaceable, but there was one man who I would definitely miss if he had to go.
My gaze lost even more focus and warmth filled me as I thought about Brian Everton.
Brian was a hard worker. He was dedicated to the café and our family.
He was Diccon’s best friend, a cheerful sight to see each morning, and he exuded a sort of secret vulnerability that drew me in more than it should have.
I would never forget how worried and lost he’d looked when he first wandered into the café nearly three years ago, pale and thin, appealingly short, with cute, curly hair, asking about the “Help Wanted” sign Gilbert had put in the window just the day before.
I’d interviewed him on the spot, and though he’d had no previous experience as a barista, something told me Brian needed the job more than any of the other applicants who had submitted fancier resumés.
I’d had to argue a little with Gilbert to get him agree to hiring Brian, but it had been the best decision we’d made for the café in ages.
Whatever had put that vulnerable look on Brian’s face way back in the beginning, he’d never said.
No one had ever asked him either. We’d just taken him in as part of the Common Grounds family and left it at that.
I knew something had brought him from Pittsburgh to Philly, though, and it probably wasn’t great.
To be forced to turn him out now, and because of something as aggravating as not having the money to pay him, would be torture. I simply wouldn’t do it. But unless we found a way to increase the café’s revenue in the middle of the construction—
My frustrating thoughts were cut short by a knock on the door, followed by Brian opening it before I could invite him in, which was pretty typical. Brian had never met a door he couldn’t barge right through.
“Hey, have you got a minute?” he asked, hazel eyes shining bright.
I smiled despite myself. “For you, always,” I said, softening the way I sat in the chair.
A second later, I caught myself, cleared my throat, and straightened. It would do exactly no one any good at all to go all soft and sentimental around Brian. Even if he was the walking embodiment of a golden retriever puppy that I felt responsible for caring for and cuddling.
I cleared my throat again. Under no circumstances should I be thinking about cuddling an employee who happened to be my brother’s best friend.
Common Grounds had already had one major disaster a few years ago when one of our former shift managers, Matt, started dating one of the afternoon baristas, Melissa.
I’d had to write an entire employee relationships policy after that whole thing blew up.
Brian coughed slightly, which made me realize the two of us had been sitting there staring at each other in buzzing silence for way too long. It was a bad sign. The heat that had already infused me rose up my neck and would definitely have me blushing in no time.
“What can I do for you today?” I asked, trying my best to keep it professional. Strict professionalism didn’t feel like the right way to interact with Brian either, though.
“I think I have an idea,” Brian said, scooting forward on his seat and leaning toward me.
“I love a good idea,” I replied with a smile.
I was not flirting. I absolutely wasn’t flirting.
Brian’s smile grew, and the light in his eyes sparked toward inspiration. “Okay, so we need to bring more people into the café, right?” he began.
“Right,” I nodded.
“And we need to bring them in after construction hours, when things are quieter and people aren’t driven away by the noise and dust.”
“Definitely,” I said, resting my elbows on the arms of my chair and steepling my fingers.
Brian opened his arms in a wide gesture, as if he’d already found the solution before saying anything. “We can hold a games night,” he said, sitting a little straighter.
“A games night?” It wasn’t a half bad idea.
“Yeah,” Brian went on like he thought I didn’t understand what he meant, inching closer to the desk. “You know, a night where we invite people to come to the café to play some of their favorite board games, either with friends they bring with them or with strangers.”
“I get the general idea,” I nodded, enjoying Brian’s enthusiasm as much as his suggestion. He positively glowed as he pitched the whole thing.
“I got the idea the other day, when I dropped by in the afternoon and saw two old guys playing chess at one of the window booths,” he went on.
“Stanley and Marvin?” I knew the two guys well. “They’ve been bringing their chess set into Common Grounds for years now.”
“They’re smart, then.” Brian’s enthusiasm grew.
“Watching them for a while made me think. We’ve got such a great space, especially in the back, but we don’t have performances or open mic nights every night.
I think Tuesday and Thursday nights are open right now.
We could pick one of those nights and have a games night. ”
“Specific games or just anything?” I asked.
Brian shrugged. “Maybe a little of both. I know there are a bunch of board games out there for adults, games that rely on things like strategy and planning. Or people could play things as simple as Monopoly or chess or checkers. If we advertised it widely enough, we could bring in a lot of different people, maybe even people who don’t even know Common Grounds is here and who would start coming back for their coffee during the day instead of going to one of those chain places. ”
I nodded, getting caught up in Brian’s enthusiasm.
It wasn’t hard for me to get caught up in anything Brian presented to me.
“We could host tournaments of various games.” I picked up his idea and ran with it.
“I’m sure there are some local chess clubs in the area that would love an invitation to play here. Stanley and Marvin would know.”
“Or we could invite people to drop by with their own games and offer the space for whatever anyone wanted to do,” Brian said with just a hint of challenge in his beautiful eyes.
“That sounds a bit chaotic,” I said. Sometimes Brian was a bit chaotic. Not in a bad way, mind you, just in a way that needed someone maybe a little older and wiser to rest a steady hand on his shoulder and guide him a bit.
Warnings pinged inside me. I shouldn’t be having those thoughts. Once again, I had to remind myself that Brian was an employee who I was responsible for, not a tantalizing young man who I could flirt with and ask out and explore things with.
“It’s not chaotic, it’s just diverse,” Brian said, his grin making my head spin. “If we advertised the whole thing like a general game night, we could appeal to a wider bunch of people. Who knows? We might even get some D&D groups coming in to play.”
“Maybe, but D&D campaigns usually run longer than the café would be open.”
“That’s another thing,” Brian went on, scooting even closer to the desk, like he would melt right through it and sit on my lap to tell me the rest of his plans…
which was an image I should not be entertaining.
“We could keep the café open slightly later on those nights and maybe offer a special menu.”
That shifted me firmly back into business mode. “Keeping this place open later might increase operational costs. Same with offering a special menu.”
“Couldn’t we figure out a way around that?” he asked, a hint of vulnerability returning.
God, Brian was tempting enough when he was confident and proactive, but I was a complete sucker for him when he had his flickers of doubt. It wasn’t a good sign for me at all. I needed to remember the employee dating rules and all the reasons we had them in place to begin with.