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When she closed the door, I took a deep breath. It wasn’t that I couldn’t do it. It was just a lot going on so fast. There was really no way for me to prepare for this shit. I opened the payroll and went over it, already catching some errors. I made a note to have a talk with our payroll specialist to see if she needed some help to catch errors. Rah was just signing off on shit, and I wasn’t going for it. Once that was completed, I got on a call with the seafood vendor.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. King. My name is Calvin with Coastal Premium Seafood. Sorry for your loss.”
I was getting sick of hearing that shit.
“Hello, Calvin. Have you sent the invoices that I asked for to my email? I didn’t see them.”
“They were just sent. Mrs. King, we’ve been supplying Royal Flush for almost six years.”
“I know,” I said as I opened the email.
“You know?”
“I also know the salmon has been coming in four ounces lighter than what you’re billing me for.”
The phone line went quiet. My husband was good at what he did, but he let a lot of shit slide.
“I…”
“You’ve been charging Rah for twelve-ounce portion, Calvin, and delivering eight.”
“Maybe there was a misunderstanding,” he said.
“Nah, there wasn’t. I’m looking at the contract between y’all. And I need my thirty-eight thousand, four hundred and sixty dollars in product.”
“Mrs. King…”
“Two options, Calvin. Product or terminate the contract.”
“If we made it right, would you still do business with us?”
“I’m a woman of second chances. I just don’t believe in third ones.”
“We’ll make it right.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it,” I said, ending the call.
By eleven, I had payroll corrected and signed, denied three dumb ass expense reports, reviewed football season security, signed off on kitchen inventory, and negotiated two new alcohol contracts. The long days and nights always made sense to me, but this was my first full day, and I still had shit to do before the door opened at three.
Another knock at my door.
“Come in!” I yelled.
Shameek walked in carrying two paper bags.
“Grif told on you,” he said.
“I’ve been busy.”
He opened the bag and slid the grilled chicken wrap across my desk.
“You got to remember to take care of yourself when workin’,” he said, grabbing his burger out of the bag.
“I appreciate it.”
“So,” he said, taking a bite of his burger. “They say you’re scarier than Rah.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m not trying to scare anyone. I just know how it is when a woman is running a business.”
