Thursday nights were usually slow—but this was bad.
Dominique looked around the dining room, doing a fast head count. It"d be tight, but they"d make budget.
At least for tonight.
She saw the weariness in the servers" eyes, the frowns in the kitchen when she walked through. Morale was suffering, and she had no idea how to solve the problem. All the pep speeches, all the promises that no one would be laid off, they all wore off in time.
Dom walked into her office and closed the door, shutting out the world. She sat down at her desk, ignoring the stacks of papers to one side—there"d be time to deal with the bills later.
The door opened, and she readied a sharp retort for whoever was foolish enough to interrupt her.
Devon entered, a wide grin splitting his face. "Got a sec?"
"Got plenty
