Chapter Ten - Danny
There are printouts of properties in Washington, D.C., and Baltimore on my desk, with a note in Hank’s handwriting about how they’d make great locations for our second restaurant. There is also a bank statement staring at me with thousands of dollars less than it should have. Thousands, now. I’m tempted to rip all of them up, but I don’t. I settle for ripping yesterday’s special sign instead, wishing to rip the paper to shreds made me feel any better. Wishing it solved anything. I feel like I have so much today, even though I’ve actually already done everything I need to accomplish today. The final menu for the ball is ready to go, but I’m still unsettled, stressed about everything.
I really had wanted Charlotte to taste everything, and not just because I like having her around. But it’s clear she wants me to back off. I stand up, frustrated. I need to get out of the restaurant and let off some steam. I head to my car and drive to the gym, figuring working out will let me vent without fighting with Hank yet again. My gym is just a few blocks from the Dock’s End, and I always keep gym clothes in my car.
I change quickly and turn on a roaring playlist, trying to drown out every stress I’m having as my feet pound the treadmill. It’s not really working. I keep thinking about Charlotte, about the other night in the kitchen, the way she’d kissed me and touched me, the feeling of her hands and her skin. I keep thinking about her smile and her laugh and the curves of her body. I keep thinking about how she makes me laugh, about how I make her laugh, about how she makes me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time.
I don’t want to push her, but I was hoping the other night was the start of something. I was hoping we were both feeling the same attraction. I already feel like I’m falling for Charlotte, and I hate that we’ve stopped before we really started. Still, the last thing I want is to make her uncomfortable or pressured. I just can’t stop thinking about touching her again.
I used to be better at talking to women, I think.
Well, that’s not true. I used to be good at charming women, at getting them into bed. I used to be good at getting women to fall for me for a night, for a weekend, for a fling. I used to be better at nights but terrible at mornings. I used to not care about anything beyond that. I’m sure I would still be good at it, but I’ve long been bored with it. I’ve been looking for more. I haven’t found it. Things have still amounted to weekends and flings, but none of that is what I want anymore.
I want someone to be serious about. Someone like Charlotte, I think, is exactly the kind of person I could be serious about.
I step off the treadmill, still feeling wound up with stress, and head to the free weight, hoping that focusing on lifting will focus all of me. I find that working out normally clears my head. It’s a habit I developed in the Navy and one that has kept me going through all the stress of opening a restaurant, through everything that’s happening now. It helps me keep my temper in check, helps me keep my mind focused on my goals. It’s also been really good for business.
Last spring, Hank and I had been a business sponsor for the 15k I run in every year. We’d had the Dock’s End logo splashed on the keepsake water bottles given out to all participants who bought the VIP package. We’d given everyone who’d bought one of the bottles to the restaurant a 15% discount on their bill for the rest of the weekend. It had been a huge success, and something we’ll probably do again next year if we make it that long.
The thousands of dollars missing is really concerning. Hank doesn’t want to go to the police—he’s still convinced it’s an internal error, but it has to be theft. He’s so focused on opening a new location that he doesn’t see that the one we have might be falling apart. The money, the inspection, it all looks bad. I have a bad feeling about it.
I breathe through my reps, thinking of how many extra hours at the gym I’d needed after Anthony had been fired. I wonder how many I’ll need to do if this all continues. I wonder how much money we’ll have to lose before Hank takes it seriously. I wonder if it will take until the inspector cites us for things that aren’t even real code violations for him to understand something is very fucking wrong here.
I still think talking to Charlotte might be my best bet, might help me actually get through to Hank, but now I’m not sure she’d be willing. She had said she wanted to be friends, but I don’t know how much distance to give her. I think I should let her come to me, but that’s not really in my nature. I’ve always been a first move, first gesture sort of guy. Charlotte makes me feel thrown off. In every way.
I shower after my workout, head not as clear as I’d like, mind still filled with thoughts of Charlotte. I don’t think I’ll be able to stop thinking about her anytime soon.