Making sure the right people hear the news

“You said yes to what?” Dayana growled at me.

I’d gone to find her instead of trying to call her up to my office and we were standing in the back service corridors that serviced the ground floor restaurants. She’d been negotiating an argument between one of the Sous Chefs and a delivery driver over produce that should have been delivered six hours earlier and, apparently, was green onions and not leeks.

She’d seen me waiting down the corridor, hovering at an intersection while keeping my distance, and she’d signalled she saw me and then let the two of them have it for acting like children once she’d heard them both out. Then she took about ten minutes to stop and step into the other kitchens along the hallway, and was able to get the delivery of green onions parcelled out between them all while on the phone with the delivery company to organise a rush order of leeks before it would be too late for dinner service, and fixing the order moving forward.

When she’d finally come to meet me she’d blown out a breath, shaking her head, and I’d followed her to one of the back storage rooms. It was public enough that no one would see us and think ‘What are those two doing?’ but also private enough that we could have a conversation with little risk of being overheard. She knew, with me coming down to her instead of texting to meet, it would be potentially sensitive.

I’d told her about Friday, and why it was happening. And she’d pulled an Elaine Benes and shoved me with two hands in the chest as she chastised me.

“I didn’t say yes to anything,” I defended myself, grabbing her wrists for a moment when it looked like she was going to shove me a second time in a row. She smirked and leaned towards me instead, putting her weight into my hands and glaring with her eyes to demand more explanation. “It was already done, and I couldn’t change anything about it.”

“My staffing is going to be fucked,” she said. “When were they planning on telling me?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m telling you,” I said. “So we can figure out what to do about it.”

Dayan grunted and pulled away from me, and I let go of her wrists as she went pacing up and down between rows of stacked chairs and tables. Then she turned back to me and pointed accusingly. “You want me to wait to fix this,” she said.

“I want to figure out what to do,” I repeated myself.

“Yeah, but if I wait and let the problem get worse, it reflects worse on both of them,” Dayana said. “And helps you. But the chaos won’t help me, and it could let Shaun know that something is up if anyone complains to him.”

“Those are all true points,” I nodded.

“So what do you want to happen?” she asked me, coming back over to me and glaring into my eyes again.

And I noticed that, the same as with her maybe-flirting moves, she looked fucking cute when she was aggravated and demanding. Her big eyes were fixed on mine, her lips twisted slightly and so kissable. Long, dark hair I could run my fingers through. Her tight little body perfect for-

Down, boy, I internally grunted at myself.

“I want to win, but I want to do it without making things harder on you,” I said truthfully.

That made Dayana sigh and purse her lips, cocking her head to the side as she planted her hands on her hips. “Robbie, I don’t think you can have both right now.”

“Then fix it now,” I said. “Even if you haven’t officially heard about it.”

She nodded slowly, looking up and away as she did the mental calculations. “Without the details of the catering for the birthday party, I don’t know exactly what needs to change, but I can get the service staff shifted slightly, and I have at least a few who are looking for more hours right now so they’ll jump on the shifts- except it’s a Friday afternoon? OK, I only have two who will jump on it, so then…” She wiggled her fingers like she was moving things around on a computer screen instead of in her mind, and then sighed and her shoulders relaxed. “OK. I can… do half of it now. The actual food portion of the catering is a lot harder to just move things around for though.”

“I know,” I grimaced. “But I figured more warning was better than less.”

“Thank you,” she sighed, rolling her head to stretch her neck and then doing a larger stretch of her whole body. I tried not to look too closely. “Fuck,” she groaned, then sucked in a deep breath and let it out. “What are you going to do about drumming up more events?”

“I don’t know yet,” I shook my head. “I need to figure something out that’s going to use the space but not suck too many resources from anywhere else. And preferably with fast set-up and take-down.”

“Good luck,” Dayana grimaced. Then she shook her head. “What are you and Cassidy doing for dinner tonight? Want to come over to mine? I’ll bring home Franky’s.”

I groaned. Franky’s was what we called the Italian bistro Francesca in the back corridors of the hotel. And it was fucking good, and fucking expensive. Unless you happened to work in catering and could stick your head in the back door of the kitchen and just ask for shit.

“I’ve got a thing,” I said. “But Cass is flying solo because of it tonight and I don’t know what she was planning.”

“Sure, I’ll text her,” Dayana agreed with a smile. “But what’s ‘a thing?’”

I mentally kicked myself for not having something prepared for that question.

“Just a thing,” I said. “A personal thing.”

Dayana frown-smiled at me, her expressive brows coming together at me being even more obfuscating. “OK, Mr Man of Mystery,” she said. “I’ll just get it out of Cassidy. Unless you’re keeping secrets from her, too.”

“She knows, and she can tell you my private secrets if she wants to,” I sighed.

Dayana smirked and then blew a kiss at me as she sashayed by me. “You owe me one for this, Robbie.”

“For what?” I asked, following her. “Giving you a heads-up?”

“For not stopping it in its tracks before it had to get to me,” she said, grinning as she looked over her shoulders. “Now fuck off, I have work to do.”

“And so do I,” I agreed. Then I jumped, surprised as she gave me a team-mate level slap on the ass. Her laughter at the expression on my face was warm and playful.

It’s just friendly, I told myself as I walked away. We’re just friends.

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