CHAPTER SIX — THE WRONG PERSON IN THE ROOM
The meeting took place on Saturday morning before the restaurant opened.
Jules, Lucia, and Omar entered through the front door wearing ordinary clothes.
Marissa arrived separately.
Ethan stood when they came in, but she gestured for him to sit.
“We’re not a jury,” she said.
“That’s reassuring.”
“I didn’t mean it as reassurance.”
Priya hid a smile behind her coffee cup.
Francine sat near the end of the table.
Calvin was nowhere in sight.
Priya described the offer under consideration.
She explained that employees would not be asked to contribute their own savings to acquire a stake.
A portion of future profits would be allocated according to an agreed formula, while investment losses would remain the investor’s risk.
The committee could review schedules, staffing policies, and certain operating decisions.
A professional general manager would handle compliance, purchasing contracts, and daily emergencies.
Jules listened, then asked who could fire that manager.
“The ownership board,” Ethan answered.
“Who sits on that board?”
“Initially, Francine and I.”
Jules tapped the table.
“So you’re offering us a committee that can complain but not remove anyone.”
Priya considered the objection.
“That’s a fair criticism.”
Lucia leaned forward.
“Can the committee reject a change to staffing levels?”
“We would need to define what decisions require its consent.”
“Then define them before anyone celebrates,” she said.
Omar asked whether kitchen and support workers would have the same vote as servers.
“Yes,” Priya replied.
“That matters,” Omar said.
“People forget us when they’re talking about tips.”
Marissa listened for twenty minutes before speaking.
“If this works, who gets the credit?” she asked.
Ethan frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“When a restaurant has a good month, wealthy owners get photographed at the door.”
“That isn’t what I’m looking for.”
“But you’d still own it.”
“Yes.”
“Then I think every staff member should see the numbers that determine their profit share, including the expenses you charge against the business.”
Priya nodded.
“We can arrange independent review.”
“And nobody loses hours for disagreeing with the manager.”
Francine sighed.
“That should go without saying.”
“It has gone without saying for years,” Jules replied.
A crash sounded from the kitchen.
Everyone turned.
Calvin emerged through the swinging door with a cardboard box in his arms.
“I see the circus has started without me,” he said.
Francine stood.
“You’re supposed to be at home.”
“I came for my personal property.”
The box held a desk clock, a framed photograph, and several bottles from the manager’s office.
He had evidently been told to leave his keys before the weekend.
“You are on paid leave pending a review,” Francine said.
Calvin laughed.
“Pending a review by a billionaire and the waitress he wants to impress?”
Marissa felt the room turn toward her.
She kept her hands flat on the table.
“I didn’t ask you to come in here,” she said.
“You arranged all of this.”
“You fired me.”
“Because you defied policy.”
Francine stepped between them.
“Calvin, the meeting is not about your defense.”
He looked at her with open contempt.
“You don’t even know which bank holds your operating account.”
Francine flinched.
Calvin smiled because he had finally hit something vulnerable.
“I kept this place alive while you played grieving widow,” he said.
Niko appeared in the kitchen doorway.
“And you did it by making everyone afraid to speak,” the cook answered.
Calvin turned.
“You should be working.”
“I am working,” Niko said.
“I’m trying to keep the kitchen staffed after you cut two people from lunch.”
