The Mistress ✓

3

There's only one person I know who might be able to give some insight. And since Google failed me, she's my next best option. No general makes decisions without information.

"Don't you think, Onika?"

Harry had been speaking to me, and I've completely zoned out. "Sorry, what?"

His kind smile reminds me of all the people whose livelihoods depend on me.

"No matter. I was just saying you made the right call. It was a ballsy move going to the organic grain, and a costly one, but this speaks for itself."

Any other time, my lungs would heave a sigh of relief, relaxing my stiff posture, but not today.

I can answer honestly, however. "That's the best news I've had all week."

"Onika, can I borrow you for a second?" Tiffany, my overworked assistant / right-hand woman calls from the doorway. "We have a few more decisions to make for the event that I don't want to commit to without your approval."

In addition to being my right hand, Tiffany has also taken the lead on a massive Mardi Gras event we were lucky enough to snag one for the New Orleans Voodoo Kings, a local pro football team. They're renting out the entire restaurant, and the money coming in will be enough to keep our head above water for a few more months. At least, it would have been until...

I shoved the thought of my unexpected and unwelcome visitor out if my head and give Harry a thumbs-up before walking toward Tiffany, leaving the heat produced by the stills behind.

"What's going on?"

"They want to upgrade the menu to include something Jennifer is pissed about. They also want us to coordinate a car service, and police all the attendees to make sure none of them leave with their keys in hand to drive drunk. Bad PR, you know?"

The thought of having to be the one to tell a professional athlete that he wasn't sober enough to drive home–and possibly take his keys–sounds like a nightmare.

"So, basically, they want us to be the bad guys? Why can't the team do it themselves if they're so worried?"

"I don't know, but they said this has to be added to the contract or they'll hold the event somewhere else."

Oh, hell no. We need this event.

I think fast. "Tell them yes. But tell them well have to set it up as a mandatory valet service, and that we need someone from their organization at the door with one of our people to make it a joint decision."

Tiffany pulls out one of three pens she has anchoring her curly space buns before scribbling on her notepad with it. "Okay, I'll see if they bite on that." She glances up. "And if they don't."

"Give in, but tell them we're only doing it for public safety reasons and reserve the right to call the police if someone gets rowdy."

She adds the note to her list. "And about Jennifer Hud--"

"How much is their request adding to the price of the menu?"

Tiffany flips the pages on her notepad. "Our food cost goes up by ten percent. I haven't given them a quote on the change."

"Tell them it's a thirty percent increase in the cost, and when they push back, settle on twenty-five. And then tell Jennifer I owe her."

Tiffany's grin widens as she scribbles. "See? You're a born negotiator. This is why you rock at your job."

If only I could negotiate a way out of certain debt.

I'm saved from discussing anything further as my phone vibrates in my hand. I glance down at the name on the screen.