Page 44 of Driving Whiskey Wild
She concentrated on adding the chocolate-chip eyes to the cookies.
“I know, and, Dad, I know you want the expansion so we have a legacy to carry on for generations, but did you see how busy we were the other night when Finlay did the tasting session?”
“Sure did,” Biggs said. “Finlay’s got quite a reputation around here.”
“We’re not just looking at hiring a cook and a dishwasher anymore.” Dixie looked pleadingly at Finlay, and understanding finally dawned on her.
Dixie was as worried about the staffing as she was.
Finlay wiped her hands on a towel and said, “She’s right. The turnout the other night concerned me, too. It was wonderful, but worrisome.”
Bullet reached for her, and when she went to him, his arm circled her waist. She loved his support and wasn’t sure if he’d noticed she was nervous, or if he just wanted to hold her, but she sensed it was both.
“We started out looking for two part-time cooks and dishwashers so we could offer shifts, but based on the turnout the other night, which had zero publicity, I think you’re looking at a much bigger endeavor than you initially wanted.” She felt like she’d somehow let them down, even though she knew this was business, and she’d done nothing more than evaluate their needs.
“I told you I thought this was a bad idea,” Bullet said.
Biggs held up his hand, silencing him. “Let’s hear what Finlay has to say.”
She looked apologetically at Bullet.
He kissed her temple and said, “You’re good, lollipop. Go ahead,” and she breathed a little easier.
“My recommendation is to decide what you really want out of this expansion. I believe the goal was to increase profits, which I think you can achieve on a large or small scale, depending on what you want. Jed’s only part-time, and Bullet already works more than sixty hours a week. Dixie and Red can’t be expected to waitress full-time seven days a week. So if you offer food all day, then you’ll probably need at least two more waitresses, another full-time bartender, two full-time cooks so they’re not working more than forty hours a week, and then you still need to hire the dishwashers. And if you go that route, it’s clear you’ll need a manager as well, unless Bullet takes that over. Dixie is fully qualified, of course, but she’s managing the auto shop, waitressing here, and doing the books. You’ll need someone to handle schedules, and I don’t know if you’ve thought this far ahead, but full-time employees should have health and vacation benefits, too.”
Bullet and Bear shook their heads.
“That sounds about right,” Red said.
“That’s what worries me,” Dixie explained. “Then our family business will turn into something that’s so much bigger, it’s not going to feel the same. I think Bullet was right about that.”
“There is another option,” Finlay said. “You could offer food only for lunch, for example. Then you’d need a cook, a waitress, and a dishwasher for, say noon to three, or similar hours. Twenty hours a week should do it. You’d still want a backup cook, I think, just in case that employee got sick or hurt, or went on vacation. Or you could offer only dinner, but dinner tends to be busier, in my experience, and would probably require more bartending staff.”
“Finlay, what would you prefer, if you were working here? What hours?” Biggs asked.
“Me? Well, I think you might find employees eager to work during the day rather than at night, so probably lunchtime.”
Bullet tightened his hold on her. “She didn’t move back here to work at the bar.”
“He’s not asking me to work here,” she said. “But I do enjoy being here. I love the people, and I get more time with you and your family. I think it’s a great place to work. It’s friendly, and sure, the crowd is rougher than what I’m used to, but they’re kind and funny, and—”
“Stay,” Biggs said.
Finlay startled. “Excuse me?”
Biggs shrugged. “You’re already here. You know the customers. You’re the one coming up with the menus. You’re with our boy, like family. Stay. Work whatever hours you want.”
“Work here?” Her mind zoomed through the idea. Working with Bullet was wonderful, and she’d meant all the things she’d said about enjoying the people. If she worked part-time, she could still do catering. She looked up at Bullet, who was frowning, and her stomach knotted up. “I…I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I haven’t had time to find a place to rent for my catering company. That’ll probably take me a while, so I really couldn’t commit…”
“I don’t want Finlay giving up catering, and she’s not working nights at any bar,” Bullet said. He looked at his watch and whispered, “You’ve got to get finished, baby. You have to leave soon.”
How could she have gotten so sidetracked? Her head was spinning with the offer, and with Bullet’s comments. He worked nights. Why didn’t he want her there?
“I’m sorry, but I really do have to finish up,” she said to Biggs, and went back to frosting the other tray of cookies. She mentally walked through the steps of turning the hard-boiled eggs into baby carriages, using deviled-egg mixture for the blankets and sausage slices for the baby’s faces, with chocolate sprinkles for the eyes. She could get it done in twenty minutes if she hurried.
“Let me help.” Red went to the sink. “What can I do with the eggs?”
“Thank you. If you can cut them into halves and remove the yolk, I can make the deviled-egg mixture and then slice those sausages.” She pointed to a tray of sausages.
“I’ve got the sausages,” Dixie said, and grabbed a knife.
“Thank you,” Finlay said.
“Finlay, we don’t want you giving up catering, either,” Biggs said. “You can use this kitchen for your catering business, and as I said, work whatever hours you’d like.”
Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head as she turned to face them again. Dixie nodded, smiling like it was the greatest idea ever. Bear and Bones were talking in hushed voices, but their agreement was obvious. Her mind reeled with possibilities.
“I…” She looked at Bullet, but couldn’t read his expression. “What do you think?”
He slid an arm around her shoulder, pulled her ear beside his mouth, and whispered, “No nights, lollipop. Please leave them open for us. And I don’t want you giving up your catering job. You love it too much.”
Her heart swelled. “But you’re okay with it otherwise?”
He nodded and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’m okay with whatever you want.”
“Really?” she asked softly. “This is your place, and I know you didn’t want me here at first.”
“I want you with me every second, baby.”
“What do you say?” Biggs asked.
Her heart was beating so fast. Bullet wanted to be with her, and they were offering her so much all at once. She forced herself to rein in her spinning emotions and think rationally.
“It could be complicated,” she finally answered. “I wouldn’t want to let you guys down, but if I were the only cook, what if I got sick? What if I got hired to cater an afternoon event that was too good to pass up? It could put us all in an uncomfortable position.”
Red’s hand stilled over the cutting board. “Uncomfortable position? Sweetheart, you’d be our saving grace. I don’t think any one of us wants to hire a crew to take over, or worry about managing people who aren’t part of our family.”
“Yes, but customers need to know they can rely on what you’re offering. If you offer lunch, someone should be here to cook it, and if I get sick, I can’t be the one to do it.”
Red and Biggs exchanged a knowing smile, one that Finlay wasn’t in on.
“Sweetheart, this business isn’t successful because we run a tight ship,” Red explained. “Whiskey Bro’s has lasted this long because of the connections we create and the bond we have with the community. Trust, and those connections, are the very essence of this family business and what we all hoped to preserve when we looked at expanding. Having the right person holding it together is far more important than if you can serve lunch on a Friday.”
“This is so much to process. Please don’t think I’m ungrateful, but can I take some time to think it over? To talk to Bullet in private?”
“We’re in no hurry,” Biggs said.
“But she is,” Bullet reminded her.
Fifteen minutes later, Bullet had loaded up her van, the rain had stopped, and Finlay hugged everyone—including Bones—and promised to make a decision quickly.
Bullet leaned into the van and kissed her. “You good? Know where you’re going?”
“Yes. Thank you for your help. And, Bullet, if you don’t want me to work at the bar, that’s okay. It won’t hurt my feelings.”
“I want you with me. I just don’t want my girl working nights. But during the day? That’s cool with me, babe. The closer you are, the more often I get to make out with you.” He nipped playfully at her neck. “Now, get out of here before I throw you in the back of the van and make you miss the baby shower.”
