“Jesus, man, it’s Sunday night. Give it a rest.”
Cade eyed him. “Isn’t that a pot and kettle kind of thing? What are you doing here on your night off?”
“I didn’t finish the inventory I started earlier. Had an errand to run.”
“Ah.” Cade returned his focus to the computer, then sighed. “We need to do something about the restaurant.”
“Shit. Still not good?”
“Nope. Not sure what the problem is. People love coming here to drink, but sales of food menu items have been steadily dropping since the first few months we opened.”
Beck sat back in his chair. “Why is that? Does our food suck?”
“Maybe. We should probably sit down with Danny and talk about it and see if we can come up with ideas to turn things around.”
“Hire a new chef?”
Sid in the kitchen was competent, but the title “chef” was probably a misnomer. The partners purchased most of their menu items through restaurant supply companies, things like premade chicken fingers, burger patties, jugs of salsa, huge bags of chips, and premade guacamole.
“Sid tries.”
“I know.” Firing people was never fun, but sometimes it had to be done.
“Maybe we need some customer feedback.”
“Huh. Yeah.”
“We did pretty good last night,” Cade said. “People stayed after the tasting and ordered more drinks.”
“So it’s worth doing it again?”
“I’d say definitely.”
“And it was fun.”
“Heard you got a little action.”
Beck rolled his eyes. “Jesus. Nothing’s private around here.”
“When you screw around at work, no. Next time take her back to your place, like you usually do.”
“Yeah, not sure how that happened last night.” Beck rubbed his face. “It won’t happen again. Okay, I’m outta here. See you tomorrow.”
“You bet.”
Beck drove home to his condo and parked in the small lot behind the complex. This wasn’t much fancier than Hayden’s place, though he did have two bedrooms. With his trust fund, he could have afforded pretty much anything he wanted, including one of those million-dollar places a little farther around the bay, but he fucking hated spending that money on himself. His only splurge since leaving home twelve years ago was his car. And financing the bar.
He flicked on lights as he entered the dark, empty condo. Lately, he’d been noticing the emptiness when he walked in. He got lots of people interaction at Conquistadors, with customers, with Marco and Cade, and with the women he often met there; coming home was his own personal space, so he wasn’t sure why lately it felt kind of solitary.
Maybe he should get a dog.
He dropped his keys on the kitchen counter and opened his fridge to grab a bottle of water.
This wasn’t the first time he’d thought about getting a dog, but dammit, the bar took up a lot of his time. They had competent staff to help run things—right now, anyway; they’d discovered quickly that bars and restaurants had a lot of staff turnover, and just when they found people they trusted to work hard, they’d leave. They’d made a few hiring mistakes too. But they hadn’t made one with the guy they’d hired as their manager. Danny was rock solid, knowledgeable about all the things they weren’t, honest, and with a great work ethic.
Maybe one day, once they were a bit more established, he’d have time to get a dog.
He wandered to the big window of his living room to look out at the bay, but in the darkness there wasn’t much to see except some lights dotting the curved shoreline. He thought about his conversation with Cade and the dropping sales of food. His gut tightened.
He didn’t need the money. But Cade and Marco did. Conquistadors was their livelihood. And they all wanted this to succeed. Failure was not an option.
The three of them had that in common. From the day they’d met in BUD/S, they’d been the ones who were never going to give up. Their determination and single-minded drive were what separated them from the guys who never made it through the first week.
They’d figure this out. Determination stiffened his spine. They’d all overcome bigger problems than this in their lives, which kept things in perspective. Running the bar was a challenge for them, and they’d faced obstacles in that too, dealing with the county and the city on liquor licenses, health inspectors, finding the right people to work for them, firing the ones who weren’t right. They’d had days where the liquor delivery hadn’t happened, and while Cade was on the phone yelling at the supplier, Marco was racing to a nearby store to buy goddamn bottles of vodka off the shelf so they could make cosmos, while Beck desperately tried to keep customers happy.