THE NEXT MORNING, I WAKE up with a lead weight in my stomach.
I don’t want to face Deacon, but I know I have to. Regardless of our differences and disagreements, we still have business to tend to. I know I need to smooth shit over with him, but I don’t know how to do that right now. The best I can do is show up and do my job and try not to let my new endeavors interfere with my current responsibilities.
I leave Dani sleeping and press a kiss to her head before going into the kitchen and setting her coffee to brew in an hour. She’ll be up soon. She has a client she’s meeting later today for a parks and recreation pamphlet she’s shooting. So, she’ll be out on location most of the week. I’ll miss seeing her as much as I normally do, but Dani being gone frees me up to work at Grinders and be in New Orleans as much as possible.
I don’t know how I’ll juggle everything once the remodel on Pockets is underway, but I’ll make it work.
Somehow.
When I park at the restaurant, I expect to see Deacon’s Jeep in its spot but instead, the space is empty. We typically rotate our schedules with one working the lunch shift and the other working dinner, while overlapping in the afternoon. Normally, after Sunday dinner, we come in for a couple of hours to take care of any remaining business from the weekend and to make sure we’re ready to open back up on Monday. That didn’t happen yesterday, thanks to our fight, so I’m surprised my brother isn’t here yet.
It’s not until I’m settled at my desk that I notice how clean Deacon’s is. I walk over to his outgoing box and sure enough, the receipts are all in order and this week’s purchases have been taken care of. I don’t know why it pisses me off that he’s already been here and finished his work, but it does. I understand we both need our space right now, but I wonder how far he’s going to go to avoid me.
There’s not a lot of paperwork left for me to do, thanks to Deacon, and when I’ve finished my part, the opening crew is already here setting up for the day. We really did luck out with some of the best employees in the business. They work hard and do a great job, keeping Grinders running like a well-oiled machine. I can only hope the new restaurant runs this well, and quickly, because the sooner it does, the less time I’ll have to spend there. Don’t get me wrong, I love me some New Orleans, I just don’t want to be away from Dani every damn day.
Speaking of the new place, I need to settle on a name. I have a notebook filled with ideas for names, themes, decor, and menu items and I can’t wait to make some of them a reality. I don’t think Alex really cares about that kind of stuff, as long as the restaurant makes a profit and that’s perfectly fine by me. I guess I have to run everything by her and Mr. Wells though since they’re, technically, my partners now.
It feels so odd to be doing business with someone other than my brother. I honestly thought we’d be working together forever and there’s a part of me that hopes we still will in some capacity or another, but I don’t know what the future holds for us right now. What I do know is we can’t let what happened yesterday affect Grinders or rebuilding Pockets. Those restaurants are our babies and I’ll be damned if they get ruined by our personal shit.
The lunch rush is pretty busy for a Monday and I’m shutting my computer down so I can get out on the floor and help out for a bit when Kara sticks her head in the open office door.
“Hey, Micah. You about to head out?” she asks.
“Yeah, I was just gonna hang around until Deke gets here so ya’ll aren’t left without a manager.”
Kara starts chewing on her lip and fidgeting with her apron, not making eye contact with me. Something’s up and I’m positive it has to do with Deacon.
“Just spit it out, Kara,” I tell her.
She looks up, startled. Before she speaks, her expression changes to a more questioning one. “What happened to your face?”
My hands instinctively touch my lip and cheeks and I wince. “What, this? It’s nothing. I had a few rowdy crawfish last night and they weren’t goin’ down without a fight.” Kara doesn’t buy my joke but she doesn’t press for more information either.
“Uh huh. Anyway, Deacon just called me—”
“Really? I’ve been in here all day and I didn’t hear the phone ring,” I interrupt.
“He called me on my cell,” she says, pulling the phone out of her apron pocket.
I catch myself grinding my teeth in frustration. “What did he say?”
It’s obvious she doesn’t really want to answer me and I hate that Deacon has put her in the middle of our shit.
“Kara, whatever it is, it’s fine,” I spit out, annoyance thick in my voice. “Just tell me.”
She lets out a deep breath and answers. “He wants me to tell him when you’ve left here for the day, so he can know when to show up.”
That fucking bastard. Not only is he being immature as fuck, but now he’s getting our staff involved. I should kick his ass again.
“Look, Micah, it’s obvious somethin’ is goin’ on between you two, but I really don’t want to be in the middle of it.”
“Kara, don’t worry about it. This has nothing to do with you and Deke shouldn’t have asked that of you. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, you have my word. He and I need to talk and he’s obviously avoiding me.”
Kara’s cell phone chimes and after she looks at it, she says, “He’s asking if you’ve gone yet.”
“Can I see your phone?”
She hands it to me and I reply “yes” to Deacon’s text.
“I answered his text, Kara, not you, okay? It’s the only way I can get him to talk to me today. I’m goin’ to wait in the parkin’ lot and talk to him outside.”
She looks worried and it only makes me angrier with Deacon.
“I promise we’re only gonna talk. Everything’s gonna be fine,” I assure her.
She nods her head before leaving the office, both of us knowing I’m full of shit.
It’s about thirty minutes later when Deacon parks behind the building. The look on his face is a mixture of anger, dread, and annoyance when he sees me sitting on the tailgate of my truck waiting for him.
He walks to the truck and stands with his arms crossed, glaring at me. I hop down and start laying into him.
“How dare you involve an employee in our shit. You try to get Kara to babysit me,” I seethe, stepping closer to his face. “Are you fucking kidding me? If you don’t want to be here while I’m here, just man up and say it. We can work out a strict schedule and never have to see each other again, instead of acting like babies, going behind backs and making secret calls. I can’t believe you right now. So fucking immature. Maybe you need to take a few days off to lick your wounds and get over it. I can handle things here without you, no problem.”
“Are you done?” is his only question.
“For now, yeah.”
“I’ll make us a schedule tonight and leave you a copy on your desk. Unless it’s business-related or a fucking emergency, I don’t see the need for us to be on speaking terms.” He doesn’t wait for me to respond. He turns and walks toward the back door of the restaurant and doesn’t look back.
If that’s the way he wants to do things, fine. I can be just as bullheaded as he is. Besides, I’m gonna be too busy to worry about his sorry ass.
Fuck Deacon.