“Where to Mr. Harper?”
The answer should have been one word: home. I’d been traveling for the last nine hours and my bed was calling my name. Unfortunately, my day was far from over. It’d been nearly a week since I’d stepped foot inside my newest restaurant and my control tendencies were starting to flare up.
I never liked leaving a fledging restaurant for very long. Management and staff needed a few weeks of babysitting before I felt like the machine was sufficiently oiled. My team at Provisions had undoubtedly taken advantage of my absence.
I met the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Provisions. Up on—”
“I know where it is, sir.”
I nodded and turned my gaze out the window, trying to force my focus from my trip back to work. The fact that my suit stunk slightly of farm animals made the task nearly impossible.
Heading to Iowa to visit my family’s farm had been long overdue and highly unnecessary. The first day, my parents put on fake smiles, but soon enough questions and opinions were flying worse than the horse flies.
“You’re thirty-three years old, Dean. When are you going settle down? Start a family?”
Uh, never. Is that too soon? How about never plus infinity?
“You think that fast ’n’ hard life will sustain you for long?”
What do they think I’m doing in New York? Crack? I work twelve hours a day.
“Seems awfully lonely…”
No. Just last week Kelly, Carmella, and Svetlana kept me plenty occupied.
My parents couldn’t wrap their heads around how I could possibly be happy as a restaurateur in New York. They’d married at eighteen, had me at twenty. Their lives revolved around farm life and family life. Needless to say, I’d wanted something very different.
And I had it.
I was the top restaurateur in New York City. In the last few years, I’d had my hand in opening eleven restaurants around the city. This year, I planned on doubling that number.
“Here we are, Mr. Harper,” my driver said from the front seat. “Should I wait here until you’re done?”
I slid a generous tip over the console and shook my head. I had no way of knowing the current state of the restaurant. Likely, I’d be in there for hours. “I’ll call a cab. You can take my luggage back to my house and then head home yourself.”
He pocketed the tip with a wide smile. “Of course, sir.”
I nodded and slipped out of the back of the town car, buttoning my black jacket as I stood. My gaze slid over the facade of the building. The ivy was growing nicely along the exterior wall. The spotlight over the door perfectly illuminated the restaurant’s name, just as I’d intended. Even at ten o’clock, there were clumps of people milling out on the sidewalk.
I pushed through the crowd and stepped into the restaurant, bracing myself for the worst. I’d put my most seasoned employee in charge, but even Zoe was bound to have problems without my help for a week. A quick scan of the foyer indicated that the place was still as I’d left it, though one of the picture frames was slightly ajar, but I couldn’t really blame Zoe for that. Could I? No. Even I had my limits.
“Mr. Harper! You’re back!”
I snapped my attention to the hostess, who was staring at me with giant doe eyes from behind the podium. She filled out the Provisions uniform well and was maintaining the kind of look that the clientele of my restaurants expected. “We weren’t expecting to see you tonight.”
I shrugged. “Shouldn’t be a problem. Every night should run as if I’m present.”
She giggled, though I definitely hadn’t told a joke. “Of course. Speaking of presents, let me unwrap this one for you.”
She rushed forward around the podium, reaching for my jacket. The movement caused the bottom of her dress to flare up, but I wasn’t fazed. When I was in work mode, my employees were numbers to me. Nameless, faceless parts of my machine. I needed them to arrive on time, smile at customers, and clean up their assigned tables before clocking out every night. That’s it.
Her finger brushed the edge of my collar and I held up my hand to stop her.
“It’s fine. Where’s Zoe?”
Her bottom lip jutted out and her arm fell limp back to her side. “Back in the offices. I think she’s been trying to catch up on paperwork ever since she hired that new girl.”
My back stiffened. “New girl?”
There was a policy in place in every single one of my restaurants: I had the final say for all new hires. I had good instincts and I liked to look every employee in the eye at least once before they represented my company. Zoe knew that rule, and for the first time, she’d chosen to ignore it.
The hostess’ frown deepened. “Yeah, she came in earlier looking totally homeless. I can’t believe Zoe actually hired her. I thought she was going to kick her to the curb—”