Lost Souls Book 1 Collison

Chapter 3

NIce blew her a kiss and headed out of the swinging, double doors into the cacophony of the packed bar, giving her a quick salute before he disappeared. She laughed, then marched into the big walk-in cooler, retrieved a tray full of burger patties she'd made up the night before and snagged a bag of chicken wings on her way out the door. The patties hit the grill, sizzling happily on the hot steel, while Tabby dumped the wings into a huge, stainless steel bowl. Working from experience she tossed them with spices and flour before dumping them, perfectly coated, into an empty fryer basket. 

The next few hours passed by in a blur as she settled into a rhythm, feverishly keeping up with the nonstop orders and sending plate after plate out to feed the hungry patrons. It would figure that they were actually busy tonight for once and Tabby cursed whatever sporting teams had decided to have a big game on the same night her car had miserably let her down.

Without Mica to help, Tabby was a whirlwind of motion, doing the job of two people, dashing between the grill, the fryer and the prep table in a carefully orchestrated dance. Good at her job, she worked efficiently to get the orders filled before the complaints could start. She hoped a bar full of happy customers would help sweeten Jerry's mood, but she doubted it. There had been something malicious in his attitude tonight that warned Tabby he'd already made up his mind about what tone their meeting was going to take later on and it had her on edge.

Thank god, Jack's only served up basic bar fare - burgers, wings, fries etc. Most were premade and frozen, saing her a ton of time on prep. For once, she was actually grateful for Jerry's miserly cost cutting on the food quality; it had rally saver her bacon tonight.

In the bast, Tabby had tried to convince Jerry to return to the fresh, homemade fare that had made Jack's so popular with the locals, worried by how much business the bar had lost after the takeover. The customers hated the institutional quality of the food now and it showed in the pathetic receipts at the end of every lackluster night, but all Jerry cared about was his profit margin. Maximum profit for minimal outlay was his golden rule. 

He operated under the erroneous idea that the patrons would be too drunk and stupid to realize that they were paying good money for the same, low quality crap that they could have bought at the local Walmart for a fraction of the price. With his profits falling, he automatically blamed his staff. They had to endure almost daily harangues about how they were all lazy and incompetent or if he was drunk, then he accused them of being thieves, robbing him blind and taking food out of his family's mouth. Nobody had the guts to bring up the fact that he was drinking away more money than the bar made in a night because they all wanted to keep their jobs.

Unfortunately, the customers weren't as dumb as Jerry presumed, and it didn't take long for Tabby to notice the drop in the kitchen volume, and the increase in food coming back with complaints. So long as Jerry had bourbon in his glass, he didn't seem to care about much of anything else and ignored her suggestions entirely. 

His actual words were, "Don't worry that pretty little head of yours. Leave the running of the business to me and you just worry about the cooking, sweetheart."

Tabby had wanted to slap the condescending smirk right off his face that day. If it weren't for the face she needed the job, she would've been happy to sit back and watch the arrogant prick shoot himself in the foot with his own stupidity.

His failing business was everyone else's fault rather than the direct result of his own mismanagement. At the rate they were losing business, it would be a miracle if Jack's survived another six months. 

Considering the slow spiral that Jack's was on, Jerry firing her tonight would probably end up being a blessing in disguise. It would at least save her from going down with the ship and force her to find something better. 

A rush of dread caught her at the thought of being unemployed and she swallowed against the sour taste of panic that surged up her throat. 

Don't think about it, Tabs, she coached herself. Focus on dealing with tonight and deal with what happens when it happens. 

Taking her own advice, she threw herself into clearing the tickets, refusing to think about anything else other than what she needed for the next order in front of he. She didn't need the distraction of worrying about things that were out of her control, when there was so much to do. Losing herself in the routine of cooking, Tabby pushed her worries to the back of her mind, determined to get through the next few hours without having a breakdown.

If she were lucky, maybe her best friend, Petra, would be home later on. She was always up for a girl's b***h session and would help Tabby drown her sorrows with a glass of wine and a tub of Ben & Jerry's finest.