Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 52100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
“That’s great,” I said, closing the door behind me. “Is the kitchen staff still getting the five percent raise you promised me a month ago?”
He gave me the same smarmy smile he gave our guests. “Aaron wasn’t supposed to tell the housekeeping staff about their performance awards for two more weeks.”
“What performance awards? Why wasn’t I part of this conversation?”
He sat down, gesturing at a chair in front of his desk. I shook my head, arms crossed, as I glared at him.
“I met with Mike and Angela last week, and we set some benchmarks. I decided to meet with each department head privately about it. I know you’re swamped right now, so”
Mike and Angela were the owners, and they were notoriously disinterested in meeting anyone who worked here. They ran this place only for the money. The day the local man who built The Sleepy Moose sold it was a sad one.
“Just answer my question,” I said. “On the raises. Yes or no?”
Caden folded his hands on his desk. “We’ve decided to approach things differently. For the next year, we’re going to set performance-based benchmarks for every department.”
“Yes or no, Caden? It’s not that hard.”
He gave me a stern look. “I don’t like your tone, Shea.”
He didn’t like my tone? I wanted to burst into frustrated, angry laughter.
“Like you said, I’m very busy. I don’t have time to stand here and listen to your doublespeak. Raises—yes or no?”
“You are getting a raise, which I planned to discuss in your performance review next month.”
“And the kitchen staff?” I demanded.
“All non-department-head staff members are getting a performance gift and an opportunity to earn a bonus next year.”
I was on the edge of losing it. He had promised me. Raises were my only way of rewarding my people for long hours and a work environment that was, at times, stressful.
“What is the performance gift?”
Caden at least had the good sense to look sheepish. “It’s a very nice coffee mug.”
“Are you serious?” I roared. “After the year we’ve had”
My boss stood up, cutting me off. “Shea, you are not privy to all the financials of this business. This information can’t leave this room, but Mike and Angela plan to add on a huge indoor pool with waterslides and it’s going to cost a fortune. They can’t do that and hand out five percent raises to everyone.”
“Are you getting a raise?”
He scoffed, his eyes widening. “That’s none of your business.”
“Caden, I can go into my office and look at the budget anytime I want. Are you getting a raise?”
“I work harder than anyone here, Shea. And yes, I am getting a raise. Just like you are.”
I was seeing red at this point.
“Nina has four kids. My dishwasher left because he got a better-paying job at a gas station. I can’t ask people to bend over backward for a place that doesn’t value them.”
Caden shrugged. “The performance bonus opportunity will allow them to earn a bonus of up to two thousand dollars.”
I blew out a breath, my anger dissipating. He’d made this decision so easy for me.
“You can keep your raise and your shitty coffee mug and your bullshit performance bonus opportunity because I quit.”
He gaped at me.
“Do you want me to work out a two-week notice, or should I leave now?”
“I...Shea, I can’t possibly replace you in two weeks.”
I shrugged. “Either I leave now, or I work out the two weeks. Which do you want?”
His shoulders sagged as reality set in. “Work out the two weeks.”
I turned for the door, then spun around to face him. “You’re a shitty boss and a horrible leader. It’s gross to give yourself a raise when you already make so much and the people who scrub the toilets and wash the dishes here make so little. Do their jobs for one day and see how hard you think your job is then.”
“Are you done?” he asked, a bitter edge to his tone.
“I am so done.”
I left his office feeling lighter than I had in a long time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Holt
“I need a four-letter word for a quick look,” my dad said from the table and chairs on my deck.
“I’ve got some four-letter words for you,” I quipped.
“Peep,” my mom suggested.
“Nope.”
“Hmm,” she said, considering. “Peek?”
“Nope.”
“Dad, look what we found!” Spencer cried, running from the yard onto the deck with something in his hand.
Marley was right behind him, her bare feet covered in dirt. Spencer opened his hand to reveal a little green critter whose world had just been upended.
“Hey, it’s a frog,” I said. “Go put him back so he doesn’t die.”
“Take a picture of him, Daddy,” Marley said. “His name is Franco.”
I took out my phone and snapped a photo. “Okay, now go put Franco back.”
“Or you could kiss him and see if he turns into a prince,” my mom suggested.
Marley wrinkled her nose. “Daddy, you kiss him.”