Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 117377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
The people who had come to the relaunch had left with smiles on their faces and full bellies. They had enthusiastically promised to encourage everybody else to come to “the New MJ’s.” In fact, so many people had referred to the restaurant as “the New MJ’s” that Tina caustically wondered if she should include it on all her signage. She feared that the moniker would stick and thus doom the restaurant to a—probably short—lifetime of otherness.
She didn’t want it to be referred to as “new”; she wanted them to think of it as MJ’s, the beloved institution that they had supported for three decades. But, after tonight, that might well prove to be an exceptionally tall order.
Lia McGregor had called her family and all her friends, urging them to come out and support MJ’s, and they, in turn, had called their friends. By the end of the night they had managed to scrape together a respectable number of patrons. Not exactly a capacity crowd, but half-full was better than they’d hoped for at the start of the evening.
Tina was exhausted, and Libby, who had kept a tight ship in the kitchen all evening, looked absolutely destroyed. After Tina’s post-dinner-service pep talk, Libby had retreated to the kitchen to oversee the cleanup, and Tina had gratefully made her way to the small back office.
Only when she entered the office did she remember that Clara and her babysitter, Charlie Carlisle, were still in there.
The pretty teen looked up from her e-book and smiled.
“Hi. How did it go?”
“Less than ideal,” Tina admitted, squeezing her palm around the nape of her neck. God, she could sleep for a week. She picked her reading glasses up from the cluttered surface of her desk and put them on before sinking into her desk chair, grateful to finally get off her feet after hours of standing.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Charlie was saying. “I’m sure it’ll get better. My family was here; my sister-in-law, Daff, texted me rave reviews about the food and the atmosphere.”
“Daff’s your sister-in-law?” Tina asked distractedly, more in an effort to keep the conversation going than out of real interest—she wanted to get to her accounts and see how great the damage was. Daff was Lia McGregor’s oldest sister. The woman was at the huge and uncomfortable stage of her pregnancy. She was married to Spencer, an intimidatingly large, good-looking guy. It was hard to imagine this petite slip of a girl having a brother that size. The girl was biracial, so the familial relationship wasn’t immediately apparent, but upon closer inspection Charlie did have her brother’s gorgeous green eyes, appealing dimples, and shy smile.
“Uh-huh,” Charlie replied. “Also, Mrs. Chapman sent me some dinner and dessert earlier, and it was all so much better than the old MJ’s food. As soon as people hear about how awesome the food is, they’ll be lining up down the street.”
“I hope so,” Tina muttered, her eyes burning and her head pounding as she stared at the bright computer screen. She had a migraine coming on, she just knew it. She wasn’t sure she could do the accounts tonight. Not with any accuracy, but delaying the task would only add to her tension.
She had put most of her rapidly dwindling inheritance into this business. She would have very little left if it went bust. She felt a surge of nausea as anxiety set in and practiced the breathing techniques that had helped her through so many of her past panic attacks.
She tried to get her rapid heartbeat under control, keeping her breathing measured. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Everything would be fine. It had to be fine. She was vaguely aware of Charlie still chatting away while she packed up her stuff. Tina made affirmative little noises but kept her gaze glued to the screen in front of her, hoping the teen would think she was distracted by work.
Libby entered the office, and she and Charlie started chatting. Tina couldn’t hear what they were saying above the heavy, thundering beat of her heart and tried to swallow back the nausea as the tips of her fingers started to tingle, the unpleasant sensation of pins and needles racing down her arms from shoulders to fingertips. Her arms felt heavy and unresponsive.
Oh God! Please. Not now.
Libby didn’t know about Tina’s panic attacks, and she couldn’t succumb to one now. Not here, while there were still staff members about. It would undermine everything she was trying to achieve; it would strip her employees of any confidence they might have in her as a leader.
The thought made her heartbeat surge even more, and her steady breathing began to falter.
Stop this! It’s nothing. It’s nothing. You can get it under control.
GET YOURSELF TOGETHER, MARTINE!
The inner scream snapped her back to a semblance of normalcy. It didn’t often work, but this time it managed to drag her back from the precipice. The deafening beat of her heart started to recede, and she managed to catch bits and pieces of Libby’s conversation with Charlie. The girl was leaving.