Holly versus Mr. Ivy by Amanda P. Jones
Chapter 8
Rhett
My jaw hurt from keeping it clenched so long while I dealt with the table of good-for-nothing donkeys. After checking to make sure Jessica was okay, I went to my office, shutting myself in. I leaned my head back against the door, closing my eyes, and let out a shaky breath. I’d fight for my employees and their safety at all costs, but it bothered me that I even had to do it. Why couldn’t people be nice?
My phone buzzed in my suit pocket. Needing the distraction, I whipped my cell out. Jack’s name displayed across my screen, along with a photo of him standing behind the counter at his family bakery, Love Bakes.
“Hey, man, how was filming today?” I asked, trying to put some cheer into my words.
“Fine.” He did not sound fine. “I’m not calling about that. I need help.”
My stomach dropped to the floor. “With what?”
“Mark’s not answering my calls, and I got an email from Gimena saying the flour delivery never came because we didn’t pay for the last two deliveries. I’m filming all day, and I don’t have a way to look into this right now. Will you try getting ahold of Mark and seeing what’s going on?”
Whoa. I had not expected that. “Of course. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
“Thanks, man. I need to get to bed. But I’ll be in touch when I can.”
“Sure thing. Good luck tomorrow. Don’t lose, okay?”
He snorted. “Yeah. Thanks for the added pressure.”
I winced. Now was not the best time to joke about his need to win. “Sorry. I’ll reach out to Mark.”
“Thanks. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Sounds good. ’Night, man.”
“’Night.”
I hung up with Jack, then rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands. It was bad enough dealing with those pig-faced scum, but now this as well?
As I was an only child, Jack was like a brother to me. I’d do anything for him. The problem was that everything piled up all at once and the stress built too high. I was buried under its crushing weight.
Where did I start? With Jack? With the restaurant, staying even more focused and diligent in the dining room, considering what had just happened? What about the employee party? What about the food vendors and the menu? What about Jack’s dog, Bear, who needed my attention right now? Bear hadn’t eaten in two days because he missed Jack so much. I couldn’t tell Jack that. He’d freak out and come home early.
I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. Sometimes being in charge sucked. The pressure to succeed, to carry everyone’s burdens, was too much to handle all by myself. The edges of darkness that often signaled a depression spiral tugged at the edges of my mind. The dark tendrils begged me to give in. To go home to bed and stay there for infinity.
Doing any of the things I needed to do was all of a sudden just too much. I slid down the door until I sat on the floor. Cradling my head in between my hands, I focused solely on breathing. In for a count of five, out for a count of five. Repeat.
Any thought that popped up in my mind I batted away like it was an annoying gnat. I had to keep my head clear in order to work through the overwhelm. I wasn’t sure how long I stayed in that position. Minutes? An hour?
I needed to get back out there and make sure nothing else was happening, but I couldn’t. My legs were heavy. Lifting them, forcing myself to move, was a gargantuan feat. Tears burned my eyes. I squeezed my eyelids tighter. Don’t fall apart here. I had to be strong. Failure wasn’t an option. The Ivy family name could not be tarnished by my breakdown.
Exhaling a breath, I rubbed my hands up and down my face, then stood. That was the first step in beating off the doubt and dark thoughts about giving up—take one small action. That’s what my counselor had said. Stop looking at the end goal, and instead focus on the tiny victories. I stood—well done. Next, make one sweep around the dining room. That’s it.
I grabbed a drink from the insulated flask sitting on my desk, then opened my office door. One thing at a time.
The restaurant was closed, and everyone except Holly had left for the night. Her fingers tapped away at her keyboard in the office next to mine. After making sure everything was running smoothly, I had holed myself up for the rest of the night to tackle the restaurant and try to get ahold of Mark. I dreaded the phone call with Jack, because no matter how many times I texted or called, Jack’s brother didn’t answer his phone.
Holly’s head peeked around the corner of the doorframe, her beautiful face the only thing visible. “Hey, Mr. Ivy.”
I didn’t even correct her like I normally would. I had no energy for it. “Hey.”
Her brows furrowed as she studied me. She stepped fully inside my office. Her teal purse hung off her shoulder. She’d removed her chef’s jacket and wore a light pink coat over her white shirt.
“Are you okay?” she asked with genuine concern.
I did my best to paste my usual charming smile on my lips, but they wouldn’t cooperate. “Yeah. You?” I had no reason to ask if Holly was okay, but it kept the focus off me.
Something in my expression or tone must have worried her because she continued to study me with an intense stare. Could she tell I was falling apart? Did she see the struggles swirling through my mind?
She slid her purse off her shoulder and sat in the chair across from my desk. “You did an amazing job with Jessica tonight.”
I ran a hand through my hair. “I did what any manager would have done.”
She offered me a sad smile. “No, Rhett. You did more.”
The way my name rolled off her tongue made my heart warm like the rolls we baked fresh every day. “Thanks for helping her too.”
“I didn’t do anything except escort her to my office. It was all you.”
I shrugged, at a loss for words. I appreciated Holly’s compliments, but I didn’t think I’d done anything outstanding.
She fiddled with the zipper on her coat. “I…” She met my gaze head-on. “I know I haven’t been easy to work with and we don’t always agree, but you really are good at what you do.”
Unburdened me wouldn’t have let this opportunity pass by to tease her. Holly had praised me? There must be ice freezing in the underworld. Overwhelmed me simply nodded. “Thank you.”
She eyed me like I was a crossword puzzle and the word she needed was just at the edges of her mind. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I cleared my throat. “Yeah. You should head home. It’s late.”
“Are you leaving soon?”
I pointed to my computer screen. “I need to finish up a few things here first, then I will.”
She stood, grabbing her purse from the next chair where she’d placed it. “If you ever need help with anything, like the employee party, I’m here.”
My brows shot up to my hairline. I’m sorry. Who was this Holly and what had she done with the woman I’d first met? “I thought you had commitments outside of work that made it so you couldn’t help more?”
“I do.” She nodded, her black hair swaying around her face. “But I’m getting the sense that you need someone in your corner right now. Am I wrong?”
The underworld was most definitely freezing over. How else could I explain Holly’s words? And how did she know I was drowning at the moment and needed someone to lean on? She saw right through me. A weird sensation, like a tens unit plastered to my chest, zinged. The feeling wasn’t painful, but it also wasn’t comfortable. I opened my mouth to respond that I had everything covered. Instead, I spouted, “Actually, yes, I could use help until the new assistant manager starts. Do you mind coming up with a get-to-know-you game for the party?”
Her nose wrinkled. “Are you sure that’s what you want me to do?”
Yes. It would be good for her to get out of her comfort zone, and it would take one more item off my to-do list. “It is.”
A flash of regret crossed her face. “All right, Mr. Ivy. If that’s what you need, consider it done. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Already back to Mr. Ivy? I sighed. “Thank you, Chef. Have a good night.”
She left my office. The slam of the back metal door as it closed echoed down the hall. Emptiness resided inside of me. I was alone. All alone with no one to lean on. No one who cared. No one who appreciated me. Why was I working myself to the bone?
Stop.
Focus on the positives.
One step at a time.
I shut my computer down, ready to head home. Being here in the vacant restaurant with my nagging fears wasn’t helpful. The second I got home, despite the late hour and wanting to climb into bed, I changed into gym shorts and my tennis shoes. Putting on my boxing gloves, I pounded the bag hanging in front of me. Forty minutes later, I was mentally and physically exhausted and yet I had the energy to tackle my burdens. As long as nothing else came up, I’d be able to manage my symptoms.