Page 81 of Finding Yesterday
“Okay, I understand.” My brain flips for possible solutions. “Can we just pay the fine? The owner returned to San Francisco, and his grandfather, who was supposed to take over the restaurant, has been out of town the past two weeks. I’m scrambling to keep everything going while they’ve been out.”
I turn to see Mr. LeBeau standing behind me, listening in on all of this.
Perfect.
“I’m sorry about that, I really am,” Ted says. “But somebody reported you, and now that we sent an agent out, it’s recorded in the system. If I don’t follow protocol, I’ll lose my job. I can’t lose my job—you understand that.”
“Yes, but there’s gotta be another way,” I mumble, my brain short-circuiting. This can’t be happening. “Please, I’ll do anything. I’ll go to the county office myself and talk to them.”
“It’s the law.” He hands me a ticket before putting everything back in his briefcase. “You take care of yourself now.” He turns and walks out the door.
I turn to Mr. LeBeau, whose face has gone hard. I say, “I’ll get this squared away.”
“I don’t think so. Losing a liquor license doesn’t just get squared away, and you should know that.” He doesn’t smile when he says, “I’ve got to head out, but I’ll be in touch if I decide to move forward.” His tone is sharp, clipped.
It’s pretty clear he’s not going to be in touch. Without another word, he turns and walks out the door.
Now what? I just lost my shot with the best investor, and now I have to run the restaurant without alcohol. Customers are going to be furious when they learn they can’t have wine or beer with their food, and they might leave and never return. Worse, alcohol is where we make all of our money. Without it, we won’t have enough cash flow for operations.
This is an absolute disaster.
We’re going to have to close the entire restaurant.
I blink, my stomach roiling. Pops told me to make sure all payments were up to date. Which I did. I did everything he said, and I trained the workers following the manual. There’s no mention of the clock set ahead, which is why I overlooked it, although I know that’s not an excuse. I didn’t think about it because it usually works in our favor—except on Sunday.
I’ve just had so much to do these past few weeks.
After giving it my all, I let the most critical thing fall through the cracks. To keep myself from crying, I put my hands over my face. I’m going to lose everything.
I can’t believe I didn’t even make it a whole two weeks before I screwed everything up, and in the most epic way possible.
* * *
“HOW DID ITgo tonight?” Emma asks as I enter the front door. She and Dylan are at Daddy’s house, as tomorrow’s the Fourth of July. We’re having another family dinner before watching the Blue Vine fireworks show from Daddy’s second-story patio, a family tradition.
“Well, let’s see,” I say, my voice uneven. “I lost my one and only investor, and the restaurant bar has been shut down.” Then I tell her what happened with the liquor license before I throw my apron on the floor.
She gasps. “Without alcohol, you won’t make any money.”
“Yup. I have to close The Fine Bone,” I continue, defeated.
“Claire, how could you let this happen?”
“There were a million things I had to do when I took over,” I snap. “And the county had it out for us. Someone tipped them off.” I throw up my arms. “Why would anyone tip them off? We’ve been doing everything right.”
“But you never mess around with alcohol serving times.” Her tone is flat.
I roll my eyes. “Great. Really helpful advice. If I could only run everything perfectly, just like you do every single minute of every day.”
“Are you kidding me? I screw up, but if I lost my liquor license my whole store would shut down.” She glares at me. “This could put The Fine Bone out of business for good.”
“I know that!”
“Why do you know every intricate historical detail from the past but can’t stay on top of the basics of the present?” Emma puts her hands on her temples.
“And there it is. Nothing I ever do is ever good enough for you.” I pull out a chair, and it makes a squeaking sound as the leg drags across the floor. I don’t sit.
“Oh, that’s a nice excuse to shirk responsibility, Claire.” Emma tightens the belt on her robe. “If this was the first time something like this happened, I’d be more understanding. But I’m sorry, you lost Tangz, and now, I’m heartbroken to see you lose another huge opportunity.”
