Crave: A BWWM Romance by Sadie Black

“Definitely order extra of everything,” Sonia implored as she panicked over the state of her bar. “Have you thought about what you’ll do if too many people show up? What if no one shows up at all?” My mother was definitely the most helpful, spewing “what if” scenarios like they were as necessary as breathing. By the time Friday rolled around and the grand opening was upon us, I felt like a ship taking on water, weighted down by the fears and speculations of everyone else.
    I woke up this morning with a burning pit in my stomach. All of the stresses of the past few days had mixed together in my gut and now they were boiling like a stew. I thought I was going to be sick. I would definitely be sick. I wouldn’t be able to go to the restaurant, we wouldn’t open, and I’d be able to avoid this madness for one more day. As I lay in bed, I did the math, figuring out what it would cost me to delay for a single day. Too much.
    After pulling myself together and taking a shower, I opened my closet to find the outfit that I’d set aside months ago for this very occasion. At the time, I thought it would make me look smart and professional. However, as I looked the pantsuit up and down, I couldn’t help thinking that it looked a bit ridiculous. Pants suits were not generally my thing. As I slipped the charcoal gray vest on over my light blue blouse, I felt like I was being smothered. This was not the attire of a chef. When I worked a kitchen, I preferred to be neat and comfortable. This was , however, the attire of a restaurant owner, a role I was going to need to learn to fill. I eyed the dark blue heels my mom had been trying to push and tossed them in favor of a pair of black flats. My feet could still be a little comfortable even if the rest of me couldn’t.
    When I arrived at the restaurant at eight o’clock, my mother and Sonia were already there. So too were a few of Cole’s workmen, making some last minute adjustments in the kitchen. Mom and Sonia had worked together to get the tables set and ready. They also got the bar and kitchen organized. Looking around, I could finally see it, what we’d been building. The place looked pristine. Each table was beautifully laid out, each surface cleanly polished, and each light lowered to the perfect orange glow. I closed my eyes briefly, testing the restaurant, daring it to disappear and be replaced by something hideous. When I opened them again, it was still there, the spell unbroken. I could breath a little more easily.
    I walked over to Sonia, my second in command. “Are we on schedule to receive the new crew?”
    “Yep, everything’s prepared. They are scheduled to arrive in an hour. That will give you an hour to brief them and get everyone ready to go before we open the doors at ten.”
    “Good. Oh God, good. Ok. Does the tap work?”
    “It’s fine. I can pour you a pint if you like.” Sonia smiled sympathetically at me. My anxiety must have been painted all over my face.
    “No. Thank you.” I continued gazing around the space. “The register?” I asked in a sudden panic. “Has anyone tried it out? Are we all set up to take people’s money? It would be absurd if we came all this way and nobody could pay us!”
    “Relax, sweet-pea,” my mom chimed in. “Everything is checked and double checked and triple checked. Now, you’ve got some work to do. You haven’t settled on the specials yet for today. We’ve got nothing written on the specials board.”
    “We? Do you even work here?”
    “No. But I’m here this morning. What kind of mother would I be if I wasn’t here to witness my daughter’s suffering?”
    “Ha. Fine. Well, thank you.” I ignored the fact that she was eyeing my shoes judgmentally.
    She made a tsk sound as I passed, which I happily brushed off. I had a specials menu to decide on; I couldn’t be distracted by my mom’s obsession with “high-powered shoes for high-powered business women”.
    As I took stock of the kitchen, I