This is the second time this guy has f**ked up, and I’m done. Walking into his office, the place is a disorganized disaster. Digging through his files, I find the ones that I need, and I spend the next few hours scouring through all of our various vendors’ invoices, checking them against the bank statements, and then having Mel double-check the inventory.
I can’t be having things fall through the cracks like this. I need to seriously start thinking about what’s gonna happen to this bar if I wind up moving after Candace is done with school, but leaving it in Michael’s hands isn’t gonna happen. I need someone I can trust.
“Max,” I call out while Mel and I are buried behind the bar as I help her check the last shipment.
“Yeah, boss.”
“Get Michael on the phone. Tell him to get his ass up here,” I shout over the band. I’ve been so busy, I didn’t even realize how late it is or that Mark is here with the guys, but they’re already on stage playing.
“Ryan!” Max shouts, and the chaos around me right now is giving me a headache.
“Did you get ahold of him?”
“Yeah, he’s on his way, but Candace is on the phone. Line two,” he says.
Making my way through the crowd, I run upstairs to take the call in my office where it’s quiet.
“Babe, hey.”
“Hey, I didn’t think you were going to be working this late,” she says, and I feel bad that I’m still stuck up here when all I want is to be home.
I explain everything to her, stressed about the whole situation, as she listens and then let her know that I’ll be heading home in a bit. Hanging up the phone, I start getting my things together, and about five minutes later, Michael walks into my office.
“Shit, that was fast,” I say.
“I was on my way up here when Max called. What’s up? You leaving?” he asks as he stands there watching me.
“Yeah, but we need to talk,” I say as I take a seat, and he follows suit. “I found out today that invoices haven’t been getting paid. Never, in the six years I’ve owned this place, have we missed a payment, and now we’re on COD with one of our vendors.”
“Ryan—”
“Look,” I say, interrupting him. “I’m gonna cut to the chase. This bar is my livelihood, and when shit starts going wrong, then that livelihood is compromised. Feelings aside, I gotta let you go, man. I can’t trust you to handle things up here when I’m not around, and that’s a problem for me.”
“Ryan, man. Come on.”
“Look, my ass is tired. Been up here all day trying to fix your mistakes, and I’m ready to go home,” I tell him as I grab my coat and leave. My stress is through the roof, and I don’t have time to dick around with this guy.
I find Max when I get downstairs.
“Hey, I need to talk to you.”
“What’s going on?” he questions as we step into the back storage room.
“I just fired Michael, so I want you to go up there and oversee him as he packs his shit up. Make sure we get his keys and everything—”
“Hey, I got it covered. No worries.”
“Thanks. I’m getting the hell out of here. I’ll be back in the morning. There’s a stack of papers on top of my filing cabinet. Make sure he signs them before he leaves.”
“Got it.”
I don’t waste any more time, knowing that Max will handle the Michael situation, and I head home to my girl.
Candace and I camped out downstairs with some wine and an old movie when I got home last night. We hadn’t done that in a while, so it was a perfect way to end the stressful day. I did manage to talk to her about trying to come to the bar again. I wasn’t sure if I was pushing too much, but I figured this morning would be a good time since it would only be the two of us. She took me by surprise when she said she would try. I know this isn’t easy for her, and while I’m in the kitchen fixing her a coffee to take with us, I watch her sitting on the couch, wringing her hands together. She’s a nervous wreck. I walk over and hand her the coffee, telling her, “Babe, you don’t have to do this if it’s causing you this much stress.”
“I told you that I would try, so . . . I’ll try.”
Holding my hand out, she takes it and we head to the bar. The morning is cold and the sky is dark with cloud cover. Candace is silent, and I keep my hand on her knee as I pull up and park along the curb in front of the building like I promised her.
When I open her door, she finally snaps out of her zoned-out state and holds my hand as I help her out. We walk inside, and I show her around before I take her back to the stairs.
“My office is up here,” I tell her as I lead her up.
I keep my hold on her hand when I walk into Michael’s office to grab the papers I need. Taking a few steps into his office, she jerks around, stumbling over her feet and into me.
“Babe?”
“I want to go,” she says with her head down, and as I reach around her to quickly grab the file, I see what she saw and kick myself for not thinking beforehand that Michael’s office overlooks the back lot.
I tuck her under my arm as I quickly pull her out and walk her down the hall to my office, tossing the file on my desk, and turning to hold her.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think,” I say as she shakes under my arms—panicked.
I back us up to the desk and lean against it as I pull her between my legs. She keeps her head on my chest, and I continue rubbing her back, trying to calm her down. She isn’t speaking. I know she’s trying hard to keep herself together, and all of a sudden, being here with her isn’t something I want to be doing anymore. I hate that this was the first place I ever saw her. I hate the visions that are starting to play back through my head.