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Her red hair, tied back in a high ponytail, is like a flaming, autumn flag begging for attention. It doesn’t matter how consuming my chat with Harold was, I would have noticed her.
“How did you get in here?” I ask as Violet places her purse in one of the cubbies I pointed out yesterday.
“The door?” She responds, nodding toward the back door.
I shake my head. “No, that door can’t be opened from the outside.”
“Then how did I open it?”
I march over to the back door and try it. It’s unlocked, and I’m not sure how that happened. Did one of the other servers step out for a smoke break and leave it open? How long has it been unlocked? Anyone could have come in and robbed me blind.
I push the door open and peer out into the back parking lot, where the shadows are long and the lights are broken. Annoyed at myself and at Violet for being the one to discover it, I shut the door again, hard, and make sure to engage the lock.
“You need to enter through the front door like everyone else. No special exceptions.” My voice sounds sharp, and I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s annoyance at the fact that the door was unlocked. Maybe it’s my effort to make sure I remain neutral and don’t make it clear to the other servers that Violet and I have gotten to know each other a bit better than I know most of my employees.
“Oh? So throwing all your female employees across the table and making them violently come is typical ‘welcome to the team’ procedure? Good to know.” Violet says before she whirls around and marches out into the main dining room.
I lunge to grab her arm and pull her back into the kitchen so I can let her know that I’m not going to accept sassy remarks like that, but she’s gone. She’s too fast.
I stand there for a moment as I try to collect myself. I don’t need Harold to try to put things together as his clouded eyes dart around the bar and build stories from the bits of conversation he overhears.
Just then, I came back here to check on our food supply. I start taking inventory, even though all I want to do is go out there and make sure Violet knows what she’s doing.
After I’ve had a chance to calm myself down, I head back into the main bar area, determined to stay focused. As I approach the counter, I see Violet already talking to Harold, her red hair catching the light as she laughs at something he said.
Is she flirting? I roll my eyes at myself. No way am I jealous of a sixty-something-year-old man.
With a firm tone, I get her attention. “Violet, we need to go over the job specifics before your shift starts. There are a few things specific to The Rusty Oak that you may not know from working in other bars.”
She turns to me, a smile still in place from her conversation with Harold. “Sure thing, boss.” I catch a hint of sarcasm in her tone, and it annoys me. Is she making fun of me for trying to tell her how to do her job?
It’s literally her first day at work. She can’t expect me to just set her loose.
We head to the end of the bar, away from the customers who are starting to trickle in to enjoy their Friday nights. I hand Violet the employee manual. “Read this. It’ll give you a rundown of our procedures and expectations.”
She takes the manual, flipping through it casually. “Got it. Anything else?”
I grit my teeth. “Yes, actually. I need you to focus. This isn’t just a social club. You’re here to work. When I say I need you to read something, I need you to actually read it. I’m paying you by the hour, so if your job for the first hour is reading, then do it.”
Violet narrows her eyes. “I can handle it, Jay. You don’t need to treat me like a child. Besides, your pay is nothing compared to Friday night tips. If you’re trying to cut me out of the tips…”
“I’m not treating you like a child,” I snap. “I’m treating you like an employee who needs to know how to do her job. We need to stay professional.”
She folds her arms, staring me down. “Funny, because you didn’t seem to care about professional when you laid me out across that table.” She nods in the direction of our… amorous encounter.
I feel a flush creeping up my neck, and I can’t stand the fact that she’s getting to me this easily. “That was...different. This is work. And if you keep bringing it up, you won’t be able to work here.”
“What? You don’t want people to know that you’re a womanizer?”
“I’m not…” I look up at the ceiling, begging the wooden beams for patience. How could I have slept with someone so argumentative? She wasn’t like this when she came in. She was an ethereal beauty who admired me for who I am. Now, she seems to despise me, and I’m not sure where the change came from. “Look, just respect the fact that work is work, and that means we don’t talk about anything else.”
“Fine. Professional it is. Anything else, sir?”
I clench my fists, trying to keep my cool. “Just do your job, Violet. That’s all I’m asking.”
She shakes her head and walks away, muttering under her breath. I take a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. This is not how I imagined her first day would go. I had thought it might be difficult to keep my hands off her, that we might exchange flirtatious looks across the bar, that customers might pick up on things and start gossiping. Maplewood makes it nearly impossible to get away with having a relationship in private.
But this… this is not how things were supposed to go.
