Page 4 of Hopeless Romantic
“Not even with sugar on top. No matter how appealing that might sound coming out of your mouth,” he said, and Beckett froze. When it came to Levi’s opinion of her mouth, appealing was never a word he’d used. Smart, loud, dirty at times, but never appealing. “Last time you had an arrangement with my restaurant, I spent my first night off in months serving two hundred mini crab cakes and six seafood platters at the fire chief’s retirement party. Not to mention the identical order we had to trash because it went bad waiting for pickup.”
“That was an unfortunate situation.” Which only managed to reconfirm Levi’s—totally bogus—opinion that Beckett was a flake.
Oh, she’d provided him with a dozen reasons to fuel that belief—and that was just in the past few months. But the old saying about withholding judgment until walking a mile in someone’s shoes? People would rather dance barefoot over glass shards and rusty fishhooks than even put on one of Beckett’s shoes. But she’d learned long ago that she didn’t have to justify her reality to anyone—no matter how sexy he might be.
“And it won’t ever happen again. I promise.” She almost cringed, because she’d also learned long ago never to make promises she couldn’t keep—even if she meant them in the moment.
“Can’t happen again, since we no longer do to-go orders,” he repeated. “And before you remind me how ludicrous, futile, and shortsighted my rules are, know that I’m not in the mood.”
She leaned on the bar, which brought her way past up close and personal. “You forgot moronic, asinine, and a bad business decision.”
He smiled. “My decision to make. In fact, if I wasn’t already overbooked and short-staffed, Gus would be looking for a new job. He’s struggling to keep up with the volume of orders from the bar and dining area. He doesn’t have time to be running orders for takeout. And don’t even get me started on Dean.”
“No running involved, because lucky for you, I was a state champion sprinter.” Which would come in handy, since she’d given herself four months to transform her little errand-running business into a lucrative company with a steady income.
That was two months ago, and there was no backup plan.
Beckett was too old to babysit or deliver papers, too controversial for office politics, and way too smart to participate in another clinical trial. Giving a temp agency a percentage of her hard-earned cash was also out. So eighteen months ago, she’d done what any self-respecting, mature woman with only a high school diploma and strong work ethic did when faced with acute, recurring unemployment syndrome.
She’d become her own boss.
According to the writers atUs Weeklyand the mastermind team who wrote the “Your Next Career; You’re Welcome!” quiz, Beckett had four perfect matches for future employment: portable-toilet cleaner, landfill operator, adult entertainer, and becoming her own boss.
With the support of her friend Heineken, she quickly ruled out the first and second options—confined spaces gave her the willies, and vehicles with four wheels were a waste of resources. Option three had merit, but when it came to mastering tassels, she learned that she didn’t have the right skill set. Which left her with six empty bottles and a single option.
She’d filed the necessary paperwork for Consider It Done, Rome’s top personal concierge service, the next day and never looked back.
With years of odd jobs under her belt, establishing a steady base of regular customers hadn’t been hard. But convincing the town that hiring a personal concierge wasn’t the same as hiring a teenaged neighbor to mow the lawn? She was still working on that.
“I’m expanding my services to include select local businesses that could benefit from my expertise and experience. I can help with staffing, overseeing small projects, and bulk food delivery. I’m working with a law firm in town, handling all their employee relocations for intra-office transfers, and they’re willing to put me on retainer to be their lunch delivery service. We’re discussing which restaurants will be included on their list.”
She unzipped her favorite kick-ass leather jacket, which made her feel like a tough girl, and flashed Levi the new, personalized NOMATTER HOW BIG OR SMALL THE TASK, ALLYOU HAVETO DO IS ASK,THENCONSIDERITDONEtee she’d had printed up.
“Catchy.” He straightened. “Now I know how you got Dean to go along with you,” he said—to her chest.
“You’re such a guy.” But his suspicions had merit.
Dean was a twenty-year-old marine science major, on the six-year track at the local junior college, who embraced Van Life in his upcycled mustard colored, ’67 Volkswagen Deluxe Microbus. Catching waves and women were his way of life.
“How’d you get Gus to agree? The guy’s as rigid as his starched apron.”
“Dean went along for the tips.” She looked at the crowded waiting room, studying the new arrangement of the tables, which made room for three more tabletops but placed the hostess stand too far from the bar, making it impossible for people waiting there to hear their names being called. “Gus went along because he values my insight. Look around—you have more interest than seats available. And no matter how many different ways you try rearranging this place, there are always going to be more hungry customers than seats.”
“Not such a bad problem to have,” Levi said, but he didn’t sound as confident as he had a moment ago.
“Maybe. But kind of dumb to have a problem at all when the solution is sitting in front of you.”
Levi looked at her shirt again, then to the chicken who’d hopped into her lap.
“You’re right. I’d like to hire you to solve a pressing problem.” He took a folded bill from the tip jar, straightened it, then slapped it on the counter. “Here’s twenty bucks for you and your chicken to go anywhere but here.”
And to think at one time, she’d considered him sweet.
“No can do. I’m already on a job. Plus, you wouldn’t deny Gregory a celebratory drink for passing his empathy test, would you?”
“I’ll give you a paper cup and you can make him a trough. Outside.”
“Sorry. I’m meeting someone for a drink.Inside.” She took off her coat and leaned back, making herself comfortable.
