Page 21 of Pin My Alpha
“I hate themed patios.”
“I know. Most of them are ugly.”
“Most?”
“Some are ugly on purpose. It’s a whole aesthetic.”
“I’m going to trust you on that.”
“You should.” I move on before he can give me that look again. “And you can reduce the live music budget, at least temporarily. Shift to lower-cost local acts while the campaign builds. And cut the print ads. Nobody reads the local paper anymore.”
“He’ll be pleased to hear he’s an exception.”
Declan’s gaze doesn’t move from my face. “Tell him I said hi.”
The words hang in the air between us. Casual. Easy. Something from a world outside this bar, and I feel like I’ve just accidentally leaned on a door I wasn’t supposed to know was there.
I tap my pen on the laptop. “Okay. Staffing.”
The shift in the room is immediate. The hand resting beside his water glass curls, knuckles going white against the dark wood.
“Staffing,” he repeats. His voice is flat.
“It’s your biggest fixed expense after rent,” I say, keeping my eyes on the screen. “I know you have loyal people, and that’s good. But you’re scheduling based on what feels fair, not what the numbers support.”
He’s silent.
I hate this part. I hate the way his face goes still, because I know exactly what comes next. It’s always the same. Friends, coworkers, classmates who think I’m an asshole for telling them their idea is bad before it costs them a grade.
Somebody has to be the one who says it.
“Fridays and Saturdays are fine,” I say, forcing myself to sound detached. “You need the coverage. But weeknights, you’re carrying too many people. Tessa can handle the bar, and Diego’s only essential on high-traffic nights. And if Diego’s cousin only gets shifts because he needs them, that’s not a business decision.”
Declan’s head comes up. “Diego’s cousin?”
“I don’t know his name. The point stands.”
“His name is Mateo.”
“Okay. Mateo,” I say, waving a hand. “He’s working three nights a week you don’t need him.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I have the sales reports.”
“You have reports from the last eight weeks.”
“It’s enough to see the trend.”
“Seeing a trend isn’t the same as knowing the floor on a Tuesday.”
I sit up straighter. “I know what I’m looking at, Declan.”
“I’m sure you do.” He doesn’t raise his voice, and that’s somehow worse. It’s the quiet, careful tone people use right before they say something they can’t take back.
I close my laptop halfway. “Look, if you want me to tell you everything’s fine, I can do that. It’ll just be expensive and pointless.”
His jaw works. “Shay.”
