Chapter 7
Porter closed the door behind her, and stood looking around the quiet restaurant. He walked back to his office, the business card with her email on it in hand.
He sat down and drafted up an email before he forgot. The tone was professional. The links he pasted worked. Everything was spelled correctly. But he was still nervous to hit “send.”
Porter pushed a hand through his hair. He had to process the interaction. When he saw it was Fiona, he couldn’t imagine why she’d be there. He definitely didn’t expect her to be interested in the job. And why wouldn’t she want another stylist job? Could he ask her about that in the interview?
There was a tiny flicker of excitement at the idea of getting to work with her, but he squashed that quickly. If he let that flicker grow into a full flame of attraction, he’d be in trouble. Experience taught him to snuff that out as soon as possible. He closed his laptop and went back out to the kitchen.
Right then, he got a phone call. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and answered it. Before he could even say “hello,” David was talking a mile a minute.
“We got him! We got Sergio!”
Porter nearly jumped. “He accepted?”
“Yes!” David yelled. “He agreed to all the terms. He can start ASAP.”
Porter sank into the nearest chair with relief. Sergio Soto was one of the best pastry chefs in the city. Since desserts were not his forte, Porter knew he wanted to hire a pastry chef in-house. And Sergio was phenomenal.
It had been a long shot. David worked for years as a bartender and was a fantastic mixologist. Porter had spent months perfecting the appetizer, lunch and dinner menus. Uncle Joe had countless hookups for the best local food and alcohol vendors. But they didn’t want their desserts to fall short.
One of the restaurant owners who had first befriended Porter was Jen Thompson, who owned the Midnight Lounge downtown. It was known for its incredible cocktails and desserts and its dark, romantic ambience. Jen had introduced Porter to many of the local restaurant owners, and she’d also introduced him to Sergio.
They kept in contact, and Porter took a chance by inviting him to see the restaurant and talk to him about the pastry chef position.
And now, after he was certain they’d missed their shot, Sergio accepted.
“I can’t believe it,” David said. “This could be huge for us.”
Porter was momentarily stunned. Sergio was well-known in Savannah. He alone would be a huge pull for Hearth. They had offered him total creative control for the desserts. It was a bit risky, but Sergio was a pro, and Porter had heard rumors that he felt stifled at his last restaurant.
“Wow,” was all Porter could manage.
“It feels real now, doesn’t it?” David said. “Hey, I have to run, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Ok, thanks for the update,” Porter said, and hung up the call.
He could almost see it. The restaurant filled with people. Proposals would happen here. First dates. Anniversaries. And the place they’d created would be the backdrop.
It was deeply satisfying for him, this work. Creating a place and a mood and comfort for people.
Porter got up, walked back to his office. With that thought to warm him, he prepared to work through a long round of inventory and placing orders.
“Who are we talking to today?”
It was just past noon the next day. David flipped his Braves baseball hat backwards over his shaggy brown hair. He was carrying in yet another box of china that Kim had found for them.
Porter glanced down at the invoices he was sorting. “Fiona,” he answered.
David stopped in his doorway, arms crossed over his chest. “Fiona?” he asked, frowning. “The hairstylist?”
Porter nodded. “She’ll be here soon.”
David nodded slowly. “Uh...okay.”
“Could you grab the clipboard and set up a table?” Porter asked.
He got up from his desk and stopped in the bathroom. He checked over his white button-down, making sure he didn’t have food on his shirt from lunch. He ran his fingers through his hair, which he had actually put gel in that morning. Not because he was seeing Fiona, Porter told himself. He just thought it was a nice change.
“I think she’s here, Port,” David yelled from the dining area. Porter heard him unlock the door and greet her.
He walked out to meet them.
“Hi again, Porter,” Fiona said, and shook his hand. She looked right at his hair. Porter cursed himself for using the gel.
She was in nearly all black, which he was beginning to realize was typical for her. But this time, she was wearing sleek business wear with low black heels. Her hair was nearly as dark as her clothes. Her pale skin and shining blue eyes were a stark contrast to the dark clothes she chose.
She joined them at a table. Porter had printed out her resume and some questions he wanted to go over. They talked about her background, what they were looking for and what the job would entail.
Porter was impressed by her. She was well-spoken and confident, and her experience serving was a definite plus. But he still couldn’t understand why she’d want this job.
Just then, as if reading his mind, she said, “I want to be honest with you both about why I’m applying, in case it isn’t a good fit.”
For the first time, she looked nervous.
“With the salon closing in a few weeks, I’m going to need to rent my own salon suite or chair,” she started. “But I don’t have enough clients right now to afford it. So until my styling business picks up, I need a second job. I’ve got a lot of experience as a server, so I could hit the ground running while you’re starting up. And I will cover as many shifts as I can.”
She looked at them cautiously.
“When would you be able to start?” David asked.
“The salon closes in three weeks, but before that I do have flexibility in my schedule,” she said. “So I could move things around if I knew when you needed me.”
After talking about next steps, they thanked her for coming in and escorted her out.
“So what do you think?” Porter asked. “Do you think it’s a problem that she’ll have other things going on?”
David shrugged. “A lot of servers work second jobs. Plus, she seems to know her stuff. We wouldn’t have to do a ton of upfront training.”
“Yeah,” Porter said, thinking. “And we still need to fill two more server spots before we open. So you think we should hire her?”
David laughed. “Obviously. That’s the first time I’ve seen you interested in someone in a long time.”
“What are you talking about? We hired two people last week.”
“Not like that,” David said over his shoulder. “Interested in her, as a woman.”
Porter jerked his head around to look at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
David dug through the fridge for some lunch. “You know what it means.”
Porter felt himself blush, which only made him more embarrassed.
“You know I’m not dating.”
“Notice how you haven’t denied it,” David said, snorting. “Want a sandwich? We’ve got turkey in the fridge.”
Porter stood up and walked to the kitchen. “It doesn’t matter,” he said simply. “I’m not dating.”
“I won’t pretend to understand your dumb rules,” David said, “but do you want a turkey sandwich or not?”
“Sure,” Porter said. “And maybe a beer.”