The Hero's Sweetheart. Cheryl Wyatt
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close in spelling. Except Oliver was the maintenance guy.
She didn’t refute Jack’s statement about the lack of sleep. She did, however, rapidly right her apron.
“The full containers are not my biggest concern. New habits take time.”
She stiffened. “Then what?”
Had he discovered her disability? She felt equal parts relief and trepidation. Truly, his response depended on his mercy.
Or lack thereof. She honestly didn’t know him well enough to guess to which side he’d lean.
He shuffled papers before meeting her gaze again. “It seems you have very strong opinions as to how this diner should run.”
Yes. She did. But only because of Sully and his leeway and how much he’d grown to depend on her with his health taking a nosedive and his refusal to see a doctor. She opted for humor and blinked innocently. “What on earth would make you think that?”
A quick flash of dimples bracketing his smile told her she’d caught him off guard. But he quickly righted his rigid posture and drill-sergeant demeanor. “If you were a shift manager, what would you suggest I do about Perry’s on-the-job drug use?”
“Uhhh... I don’t know what you—”
“Don’t lie to me. I won’t keep people I can’t trust.”
Her shoulders sank. “Jack, I really didn’t know.”
Jack tossed a pencil on the desk. It rolled off and bounced on the floor.
Clearly, he didn’t believe her.
Wait, wait, wait. Why would he mention her in conjunction with management?
Olivia felt bronchial spasms that usually preceded a stress-driven asthma attack. Sully didn’t believe in putting one employee above another. Surely Jack wasn’t scouting out which of them to stick at the bottom and top of a chain of command, was he? That could breed resentment and compromise the bond they all shared.
No matter. A more pressing issue blared between them.
She swallowed. “What drug use are you talking about?”
“He pops pills.”
“He has a lot of allergies.”
Jack smirked. “Yeah, to staying sober and straight. I noticed his pupils were dilated. I asked to see the bottle. He refused. That threw up a red flag. I’m a medic—I’ve had pharmacology classes. I suspect the pills he’s taking are someone else’s prescription.”
She sat. “Narcotics?”
“Yes. I can’t have employees impaired on the job. It’s dangerous for the employee, for their coworkers, for customers and it’s an insurance liability. Not to mention a lawsuit waiting to happen. If he shows up today, I’m doing a drug test. If he refuses, I’m letting him go. In fact, to be fair, everyone gets a drug test today. It’s the law and Dad has never performed one to my knowledge.”
She blinked. Was he questioning each of them about Perry? She’d seen him call Naem, Darin and Patrice in earlier, individually. While she was glad Jack wasn’t singling her out, it bothered her that he didn’t believe the best about her and the others. Either he had trust issues, too, or something had happened to make him suspect something amiss.
Olivia thought back to what he’d said about not wanting his employees impaired. Yet, isn’t that what she was, this sleep deprived?
She was no safer to have around than Perry, in a sense.
Jack studied her all the more intently, which made her wonder if his impairment concerns were why she’d been called in last. Maybe he’d questioned them about her, too.
She had to get more sleep. Period. But how?
The clacking of plates and platters and an increasing din wafted through the wood door. Things were starting to sound chaotic out in the dining area, which meant the floodgates had opened.
“Can I go? I really need to help Patrice and Naem. Obviously you were right about patrons eating breakfast early.”
In fact, many things had been running more smoothly. If she told him, would he think she was just sucking up? Was she?
“One more question. Who all has access to the registers here?”
“Pretty much all of us. We all help each other in a pinch.”
He apparently didn’t like that answer because his jaw clenched rhythmically. “Employees only?”
“Yes.” Why would he ask that? Had someone taken money? They’d been really lax about counting registers at shift change, and Sully operated almost solely on an honor system. She just assumed everyone was as honest as she was.
The thought that someone would steal from Sully upped her ire in a big way.
Patrice could be heard calling out for Darin to bring her more menus, which meant she and Naem were probably dealing with a full dining room. Olivia darted glances toward the door, wanting to go help her crew out of breakfast-rush chaos. Plus, Darin was undoubtedly slammed, too, and could use Jack’s help on the grills and other food prep.
Jack rose. “Go on back to work, Liv.”
She jerked. “Why did you call me that?”
Jack angled his head. “Dad told me to.”
“How? He’s not speaking.” She stood. Sat. Stood. “Is he?”
“He started writing with his strong hand on a special tablet last night. Have you not been to see him?”
She scowled. “I assumed you didn’t want me to.”
“I never said that. I just needed time alone with him that first evening.”
“So you don’t have a problem with me visiting him?”
“Not as of now.” He studied her in a way that made Olivia wonder if he suspected her of unethical behavior, as well. “I’ll say it one more time. I can’t keep people I can’t trust. Do I make myself clear?”
Olivia nodded but a terrible fist clenched her gut. Bottom line, Jack did not trust her. Why? What did he think she’d done, or what did he think her capable of?
She couldn’t stand the thought of being let go. That would stress Sully out. And keep her from paying for school and make her ineligible for the EPTC internship scholarship. And maybe force her to live with one of her parents, a very unhealthy atmosphere. She just couldn’t. He had to believe her.
Olivia wasn’t sure why his opinion mattered so much, just that it did. What he thought of her was important to her, even if she didn’t want it to be.
“You can trust me, Jack.”
He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his well-developed chest. “We’ll see.”
* * *
After nonstop customers from the start of her shift to the end, Olivia’s feet were aching. She’d expected to get to use her breaks for studying the right chapter but ended up not even having time to eat. She went to class and bombed her test despite cramming the hour before.
Her schedule was too packed. Something had to give. She came home feeling defeated and praying for sleep. Still, it eluded her and she hadn’t been able to comprehend a single thing in her book. Her dyslexia was functioning at an all-time high. She needed help. Period.
The next morning, she at least made it to the diner on time. Just in time to hear Jack say his trademark, “Get your boots back to work,” to Darin and Naem, who were swatting each other with wet dish towels.
When she walked to the back and glimpsed Jack yanking Perry’s time card out of his slot, she realized that Perry had not shown up yesterday. She eyed the clock. Patrice, just now arriving, peered