One Plus Two Equals... - 3

Duane woke slowly, groaning when he realized he'd overslept. He had too much to do, and there weren't enough hours in the day to waste any more time than absolutely necessary with sleeping.

He hurried to the bathroom, taking care of business, pausing just long enough to cast a glance at the mirror on the door. It showed a slender young man of average height with a mop of brown hair sorely in need of cutting. As if I have time right now, but I have to do it before the grand opening.

As soon as he was dressed he was out the door, grabbing a sweet roll as he passed the kitchen. He ate it while driving down to Magazine Street and the restaurant, cursing the fact he hadn't snagged a couple of paper napkins as well when the steering wheel got sticky fingerprints on it.

Unlocking the rear door, he went into the back hall of his new venture, smiling when he saw the kitchen with all its shiny fixtures. All he needed to do now was order the food but that had to wait until his two chefs put in an appearance which should be… He checked the time again and made a dash for the front door to find the couple standing there waiting patiently. After apologizing fervently for being late, he led them back to the kitchen where the three of them sat down to go over the menu items so they could give him a list of what to get.

It was early afternoon before he had a free moment to breathe. If going over the many lists he'd compiled when he'd started this venture could be called breathing. At least he was more than happy to discover almost everything was checked off now as completed. Tomorrow he'd be meeting with all the waiters, waitresses, and bus-people he'd hired to go over the rules and their duties.

Leaning back in the chair he was using in the dining room, he stared at the wall he'd so painstakingly decorated. I might not be an artist, but I do have a decent eye for what works, and this does, he thought with satisfaction. A rap on the front door brought him back to the here and now. He turned to see Julyan standing outside and got up to let him in.

"I was just… I don't want to be a bother," Julyan said hurriedly, "but you said you'd call."

"Damn, sorry. It's been one of those days. I never even got the chance to check your references but honestly at the moment I don't care. You start in the morning. Be here promptly at nine for a group meeting."

"Thank you!" He started to leave then obviously thought of something. "What should I… How should I dress?"

"Tomorrow, it doesn't matter. That's part of what the meeting's about, to let everyone know what I expect, including proper dress. You won't have to worry until Friday when we open for business."

"Got it. Thanks again." He was halfway onto the sidewalk when Duane had a thought.

"Look, if you're not doing anything at the moment I could use some help. You'll be paid for your time."

"Sure. Trust me, I could use the money."

Duane chuckled. "I sort of got that impression. Come on in while I get my lists."

Julyan did, leaning against the wall while he waited.

Duane was back almost instantly, carrying a pad of paper. "Most of what I need for the chefs I've ordered from suppliers but there are a few things I want to get for myself to make certain they're the quality we need."

"A few?" Julyan eyed the crabbed handwriting which filled the top page.

"It's not as bad as it looks but I still appreciate having someone along to help lug stuff to the van."