Bad News

Friday starts like a normal Friday. I go for a hike to reward myself for doing housework every other morning this week. I get back in time to eat lunch, shower, and change into my gray dress pants and blue button-up.

When I get to the restaurant, I find Everett in the kitchen alone

"What are you doing?" I ask, looking around at the dirty dishes on the counter next to him.

"We need something new! I checked last night and someone left a negative review. They said our menu was 'tame' and 'lifeless'."

"Oh shoot!" I pull out my phone and quickly find the review. "What do we do?"

"I'm going to come up with something new and exciting that will knock his socks off!"

I look around again. "How long have you been here?"

"Well. . . I had some trouble sleeping because I was worried that other people find our menu boring, so I came in this morning at, like, 7."

I choke out a laugh. "You've been here for 7 hours already!"

"Has it been that long?" He runs a hand through his already very messy hair and sighs. "I don't think I can do it, Lace. Everything I try has just been. . . not quite right. It's all missing something and I don't know what!"

He turns and slams his first on the counter. "Dang it! What's missing?"

I take a few tentative steps closer and place a hand on his tense shoulder. "Everett, I think you need to take a break."

I flinch when he jerks away from my touch, but he stops a couple feet away and takes a few deep breaths. "You're right. I've been at this for a while. I'm going to go out for a walk to clear my head."

"That's a good idea."

"Thanks, Boss Lady." He gives me a half-hearted smile before removing his apron and leaving the kitchen.

I survey the mess he's left behind. There are a few finished foods on the counter. I grab a fork and knife and take small bites of them. Two are chicken dishes, one is a type of pasta, and the last is a stuffing with sausage and vegetables.

It's all delicious, of course, but I can see why Everett is frustrated. They all taste very much like his usual dishes. Not in a bad or boring way, but they just remind me of his flavor profile.

I'm going for another bite of the stuffing (I had a light lunch and this food is YUMMY) when Everett comes back in.

"What do you think?" he asks, watching me with an amused smile.

"I think they're all delicious!"

"What are they missing?"

"I don't know that they're missing something. They just taste like your flavor profile. But that's not an insult!" I quickly add when his face falls. "I love your flavor profile! Hundreds of people love your flavor profile! It's what is bringing us so many good reviews and so many satisfied customers."

"But it's not enough!" He pounds his fist on the counter again. Then his shoulders slump. "It's not enough." His voice is defeated this time.

I move to his side and place a comforting hand on his arm. "We're going to get through this. It's only one negative review." I pause, letting my words sink into my own mind. Seriously, are we going to let one person hurt us?

"Everett, look at me." His eyes, when they meet mine, are full of pain. "Are we really going to let one person tear down everything we've done so far?"

A spark enters his eyes at my words and a half-smile tilts his lips.

"We're better than this. We have hundreds of happy customers and positive reviews. Just because one person isn't a fan of your flavor profile doesn't mean that other people aren't. If you can't trust the other people who have reviewed us, you can at least trust Delilah Lee Jones. Trust me when I say that she wouldn't give us false praise. She tore Jeff's food apart because it didn't impress her."

My words fan the flame. I watch as his expression turns to the confident smile I'm used to.

"You're right! Of course Delilah Lee Freaking Jones wouldn't lie to me to spare my ego. I'm a good chef. OUr menu is good! People like it!"

"Exactly! One hater is not going to pull us down!"

"No, they're absolutely not!"

At this point we're both shouting. We share a look and break down in laughter.

As our laughter dies down, Everett looks around with a rueful smile. "Well, I guess my early morning cooking session was all for nothing."

"I don't know," I say, grabbing another forkful of the stuffing. "I'd say it was quite a success."

"I'm glad you like it, but still. . ."

"No, we're going to use these. We're still new enough that we don't really need anything, but I want you to remember these recipes. I'm thinking, in a couple months, maybe for a summer holiday or something, we'll throw a new dish on the menu. Or maybe we'll add a rotating special."

He frowns thoughtfully. "That's a pretty good idea. And you want to use these?"

"I definitely want these on the menu at some point! I think people will love them! We just want to time them so that they'll help us keep our momentum."

"Yeah. Yeah, I like that. It will be a great way to keep people's attention."

"For now, we should probably get the kitchen cleaned up before the rest of the staff comes in to start prepping for tonight."

He nods. "Yeah. That's a good plan. It's my mess, so I'll do the dishes. You can get started on your work." He motions to my office.

I scoff. "Right. Like I'm going to spend time on paperwork and make you handle the dishes alone when you've already been working for hours. Have you even eaten lunch?"

He shakes his head. I point at the food on the counter. "Great. You should eat as much of that as you can so it's not wasted while I get started on the dishes."

Everett starts to protest but I talk over him and order him to eat. I get started on the dishes, enjoying the feel of working in the kitchen again. I forgot how much I enjoy being in the kitchen. I've spent so much time in my office lately, I haven't had a chance to enjoy my beautiful restaurant kitchen.

Washing dishes has always relaxed me. I know it's weird, but there's just something about the warm water and seeing all of the grease and food remnants being cleaned off, leaving a sparkling, like-new dish in my hands that I find very satisfying.

Today is no different. I get into the flow of doing dishes (and Everett has been cooking for hours, so there are A LOT of dishes!) and feel my stress easing away. I forget about all of the pressing tasks on my to-do list, and I even forget that I'm not alone. I start my favorite playlist and am soon singing along, loud and unashamed.

Everett joins in when he finishes his lunch. He starts drying dishes and putting them away, leaving me more room to place clean dishes. I shoot him a grateful smile, then pick up the chorus of "Mirrors".

I'm not surprised when Everett joins in. He's still a bit off-key, but I enjoy the sound of his deep, pleasant voice.

We sing and do dishes together until we've finished them. Then we quickly work together to wipe down the counters. Soon the kitchen is sparkling clean again. We smile at each other as I turn off my music.

"Thanks for your help," Everett says with a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Of course. I'm glad I could help."

He shakes his head. "I hate to have to tell you, but you're kind of a weirdo, Lace."

I frown. That's not exactly how I hope my employees see me.

"Sorry, I didn't explain that well. Just, you're the boss, the owner, the big cheese. And yet, you take time to do dishes and you spend so much time at the restaurant. You're not afraid to get your hands dirty. You don't just expect us to take care of everything."

"The big cheese?"

He laughs. "Really? That's what you're going to take from that whole speech about what a great boss you are?"

I join his laughter. "Sorry. Thank you. I'm glad you don't think I'm a bad boss. I just. . . I want this to be a success. I have a greater stake in our success than y'all. If the restaurant goes down, you can all find new jobs. I'll be the one left to deal with the financial fallout."

"That makes sense. Still, I'm impressed with how involved you are."

"Thank you." I blush, not sure how to deal with all of his praise.

Before we can continue the conversation, I hear someone at the back door. Alex walks in without her usual bright smile. She looks at us suspiciously for a moment, then shakes her head. "Have y'all seen our first negative review?"

Everett and I both nod, sharing a smile.

"What are we going to do?" she asks.

"Nothing," I answer decisively. "We've talked it over, and it's only one person. Everyone else thus far has been happy with our menu. We're not going to change a flavor profile that's worked well so far. Everett did come up with some new dishes that we'll add to the menu as specials. We'll do it in a couple months, when our grand opening hype has died down."

Alex's smile has slowly returned as I speak. Now she nods.

"That's a great idea! I could work up some special desserts, as well, if you want."

"Yes, that's a good plan. Maybe you can come in a little early tomorrow and work on those."

"I can do that."

"Thanks. I'd better leave y'all to get to work," I say as one of the other chefs comes in. I head to my office and feed Gulliver before settling into the paperwork I need to get done.