"Tomorrow morning." I took the contract from her. "Is there a clause in here about not murdering your boss?"
"Of course. I chose to leave out the employee one, though."
Of course, she did.
"All right, hotshot," I said to her. "Call those guys you think are good enough and have them in here at eight-thirty tomorrow."
"Morning?" Her eyebrows shot up.
I stood up and looked down at her. "No, evening. I plan to interview them into the small hours of the morning."
She flipped me the bird. "Until you sign a contract, I can't do that."
I swallowed a laugh. This was going to fuck up so damn bad. "Bring those guys in so I can interview them in the kitchen. Be ready to accept my menu, too. I'll be placing an order before I get here in the morning."
Raven stood up and hit me with a hard gaze. "That's not how this works, Parker. You don't demand shit of me. Make sure you're here at seven with your menu and your order ready to go. You make your order when I say so." She picked up her phone and glanced pointedly toward the door. "I'll make sure you have interviews tomorrow. Show up ready to sign a contract or I'll shove it up your ass and face some Mediterranean wrath instead."
Smirking, I walked back toward the door with a salute. "Yes, ma'am."
Her angry stare didn't diminish in the slightest.
Two thoughts followed me out of the building.
She was goddamn hot when she took the reins.
This was going to be an issue.
***
"These guys." I slapped two resumes onto the desk in front of Raven.
It was eleven a.m. She'd managed to schedule me all her second choices, and while they weren't bad, they weren't earth-shattering either. I chose to focus on the fact they weren't total fucking disasters.
Silver linings and all that shit.
Slowly, Raven slid her blue gaze from the resumes to my face. "So, call them."
That was an order, not an idea.
"You're the boss," I replied.
"Your kitchen," she said simply, looking back down at her computer screen. "Your staff. I don't know who's a good fit for you, Parker. Bring them back for a double interview today."
"And if they can't?"
"Call someone else." Her tone was flat and emotionless. "It's not my problem. The fact that some crazy Greeks are about to descend onto my relatively quiet little Key are. Staff your kitchen. You signed the contract."
Shit, flat and emotionless was an understatement. Her response was robotic.
But, she was right. I'd signed her contract. It stated that the kitchen staff were ultimately my responsibility. In all honesty, I'd already decided that the two I'd put in front of her were right. I only did it out of courtesy.
"Then pass me the fucking phone, because I have two calls to make."
"Settle down, Gordan Ramsay. This isn't Hell's Kitchen." She plucked the main phone from its dock and handed it to me anyway. "And wash your mouth out with soap before you speak to me again."
I raised an eyebrow, but I backed out of the office before saying anything else. I still had yet to show her the menu, and I knew she was going to hate every second of it. The only reason I hadn't shown her it yet was because she hadn't asked-and I wanted her to have as little time as possible to rebuke my suggestions.
She was gonna make me pay for the Greek and seafood menu, but the annoyance she'd feel would be worth every second of paying for it.
I sat up at the bar and dialed the first number. He didn't answer, so I left him a message asking if he could come back at one o'clock. The second call was much more successful, and he agreed to come back.
Raven was so damn last minute it was ridiculous. I didn't know why she didn't just tell her grandmother she wasn't open yet. Granted, I knew her grandmother and that she was crazier than a room full of cats on catnip with a ping pong ball, but still. It was the easy selection.
I still didn't know why I'd fucking offered to work for her. It was going to be nothing short of pure hell for as long as I was here.
It was a damn good thing I wasn't so good at relaxing.
"Did you do it?" Raven walked into the bar carrying a crate full of beer bottles. "They coming back?"
"One is. One I'm waiting to hear back from. You need a hand?" I nodded toward the crate in her arms.
She set it down on the end of the bar. "Not as heavy as it looks. There are two more in the cellar if you want to be useful, though."
She was a fucking delight.
"Where's the cellar?"
"Out the back, take a left at my office, past the bathrooms and into the door marked staff only. The door's open." She pulled the crate down to the floor and knelt in front of the fridge.