Page 92 of Hopeless Romantic
“I hope she gets better.” Beckett plastered on a smile and said, “Winters party, right this way, please.”
Beckett led the group of seven, which happened to be a birthday party, to one of the big, high-backed booths by the window. She took their drink orders, which she scribbled on a napkin, then headed to the bar.
She’d relayed the drinks to the bartender when Seth, the most senior staffer left in the restaurant, came out through the kitchen’s swinging doors with plates piled on both arms. He caught sight of her. “I called Gus—he said to talk to you. Don’t go anywhere.”
He disappeared to deliver the plates, and Beckett leaned against the wall. It was almost ten at night, for crying out loud. How could the place still be this busy?
Beckett’s heart skipped, then dropped. A cold, sticky sensation crept along her hairline, around the back of her neck, down her spine. For a confusing moment, her vision dimmed at the edges.
Panic entered her bloodstream, and her mind numbed around the edges. If Levi knew the gravity of this situation, he would come unhinged. Damn, she wanted to be the hero here. For Levi. He was so amazing in so many ways. She really wanted to have his back here, even though she couldn’t fathom what she could do to salvage the situation.
“You okay?” Seth asked. “You look like you could use a drink.”
“A big one. But I’m betting it’s against company policy to drink on the job?”
Seth flashed her a smile. “I bet Levi would let it slide. I mean, this is a complete shit show,” he repeated for the second time. “I didn’t mean to drag you into it, but when I looked at who the next emergency contact was, I saw your name.”
“Calling me is exactly what you should have done.” A waitress passed by with two armloads of plates. “How are you serving food without a chef?”
“Gus stayed as long as he could and hammered out a few orders before he left. But that was the last of it. What do you want to do?”
Marie grabbed her purse from beneath the bar. “Good luck, guys. See you tomorrow.”
Beckett had to curl her fingers into her palms and dig her nails into the flesh to keep from grabbing her by the arm, dropping to her knees, and begging her to stay. This had to be some type of cosmic payback for abandoning her father with Tommy.
Fine. She’d have to handle this the way she knew her father would have to handle Tommy.
Beckett grabbed a menu from the bar, a marking pen from a cupholder, and scanned the offerings. “Point out anything that’s mostly pre-made. Anything that can be heated up or thrown together.”
Five minutes later, they’d cut the menu down to half a dozen appetizers and a few salads. She promoted one of the bussers to waiter, Seth to chef, and herself to chief shit-catcher, moving wherever she was needed—behind the bar, in the kitchen, at tables.
When Beckett took a second to breathe, she realized two hours had passed in a blur. She glanced at her phone and found four missed calls from her father, two from Tommy, and a slew of texts she couldn’t bear to read. But nothing from Levi.
The bar was still busy, but the dining areas had started to empty out. They’d finally caught up with the front of the house, and things were quieting down. She wasn’t out of the woods yet—the bar had been known to go full-tilt until last call.
Beckett checked her watch and sighed—she still had three hours to go. She dropped a scribbled note for drink orders before disappearing into the kitchen to check on Seth.
He stood at the stainless-steel counter, his apron resembling a modern art splatter piece, his shoulder-length hair pulled into a makeshift man-bun. He was humming while chopping ingredients and completing prep for the next day.
“You really came through tonight,” she said.
Seth flashed her a crooked smile. “No problem. And maybe you can mention that to the boss man for me?”
She laughed. “I’ll see what I can do. And thanks for stepping up. You were a lifesaver. Do you know where Levi put the close-out procedures? I looked in his office and couldn’t find it.”
“Gus moved it.” Seth pointed to a folder on the top shelf in the kitchen that Levi had put together before he left. It outlined every detail that had to be attended to before the last person set the alarm and closed up. With Marie at home, that honor went to Beckett.
Beckett opened the folder and had started reading down the checklist when her cell rang with an incoming call. The screen showed her father’s number. Again.
She looked at Seth, and he nodded. “Take it. We’re starting to slow down.”
“Thanks,” she said, then walked into Levi’s office to answer the call. “Hey, Dad. Sorry I didn’t check in. I just now had a chance to breathe.”
No response prompted her to check the connection; then she plugged her free ear and raised her voice. “Dad? You there?”
Instead of her father’s voice, she heard leaves crunching, as if someone was walking at a steady pace. The sound made Beckett’s stomach clench and her heart hurt. “Dad? Can you hear me? What’s going on?”
“He woke up and was upset that you were gone.” His breathing got louder, but the crunching grew intermittent, as if her father was slowing down. “He wouldn’t go back to sleep.”
