“I’m getting hungry,” Dustin announces, putting the last of the clean dishes away on the shelves.
“Me too,” I reply, realizing my stomach has been growling for a while, but my nerves got the best of me today.
We wrapped up training with Daisy, who is eager to start Monday morning when Sugar Rush opens its doors for the first time. We kept our focus on the front end of the business, which, fortunately, she picked up quickly. She’ll be in charge of the cash register and filling orders, with the help of Dustin. Together, they’ll serve coffee, tea, or any of the other bottled drinks we’ll carry. Eventually, I’d love to add more specialty drinks like lattes and espressos, but it’s just not in the budget right now.
Also today, the front door and windows were done, complete with a new Sugar Rush logo front and center. I opted to include our hours on a sign positioned by the front door instead of having them added beneath the logo on the door, mostly because they may change once we get going. It all depends on how busy we are.
Or aren’t.
But I won’t think of that right now. My anxiety is already through the roof, and the last thing I need to focus on is the what-ifs.
The health inspector also made his final inspection, giving us full approval to open our doors. Holding that piece of paper was probably the proudest moment I’ve had since beginning this venture. It means we’ve met all of the criteria for health and safety to serve food to the public. The moment he left, Dustin helped me frame the certificate and position it on one of the shelves near the front door.
Now, as we finish cleaning the kitchen for the night, I’m finally able to let go of the stresses of the day and focus on putting some food in my stomach.
“Can we still order burgers from across the street?” he asks, his face lighting up with excitement.
“Sure,” I mumble, tossing my washcloth in the bin I’ll take home tonight with dirty towels and rags.
At the mention of burgers, my mind instantly goes to Jasper. I haven’t seen him since he stormed out of here Tuesday morning, which suits me just fine. He has this uncanny ability to easily get under my skin, and the last thing I want or need this week is added anxiety. Plus, though I’d never admit to this out loud, I’ve thought of him plenty throughout the last several days and have been struggling to evict him from my daydreams. His handsome face. Those dark, alluring eyes. Big hands that promise amazing skills in the kitchen and dirtier ones in the bedroom.
Seeing him would only make those images worse.
I walk up front, double-check the lock on the front door, and flip out the lights, leaving only one strip on, over the counter. Isaac’s the one who actually suggested it when he stopped by yesterday to see the progress. They’re directly over the cash register, plus shine just a touch in the kitchen. If someone was inside, they would be easy to spot from the road. Makes complete sense, and I’m incredibly grateful for the suggestion.
Before I head back to the kitchen, I can’t help but stop and stare at the name on the window. I can’t believe it’s finally here. All the planning, the tears, the apprehension. The late evenings, early mornings, and sleepless nights. Worrying and wondering if it would ever come together, and now it’s time. In just three short days, the doors will be open, and I’ll be selling my own baked goods to the residents of Stewart Grove.
I catch movement across the street and turn my focus to the couple walking into Burgers and Brew. There’s a group of people standing by the door, clearly waiting on a table. I can’t help but wonder if I’ll eventually have the same kind of success. Customers lining up, waiting for their chance to have a table. Only my customers will be vying for one of my gooey cinnamon rolls or a slice of my famous pecan pie. They’ll be lined up to the door, spilling onto the sidewalk out front.
Hey, a girl can dream, right?
“I check their social media page, and tonight’s hamburger special is called the Panty Melter. It’s loaded with four kinds of cheeses. Can we eat there?” Dustin asks, his brown eyes full of anticipation.
“They look pretty busy, Dust. It may be easier to take it to-go,” I suggest, but the moment I see disappointment in his eyes, I wish I could recant my statement.
“Oh, yeah, you’re probably right. It’s seven on a Friday,” he concedes, turning to grab his coat off the hook by the back door. I can tell by the way he’s walking he overdid it today. Dustin worked hard and only took breaks when I forced him to sit. Now, he’s relying on his walker more and could probably use his wheelchair.
“Well,” I start, glancing across the street through the front window. “We could see how busy they are. If there’s only a short wait, we can stay.”
He offers me a big smile. “Deal.”
“But I think you should take the chair, Dust. You busted ass today.”
He opens his mouth to argue, but I can tell he sees merit in my suggestion. “Yeah, all right,” he replies, reaching for his chair and getting himself settled. He wheels himself to the door and waits for me.
I button up my peacoat and wrap a scarf around my neck, grateful for the touch of warmth it provides. After slipping my gloves on my hands, I open the door so Dustin can exit and make sure it’s locked behind me.
We head down the alley to the sidewalk. Fortunately, there’s no snow or slush left, just bitter cold temperatures. There’s little traffic, so we’re able to cut across the street quickly. I pull open the heavy wooden door and am greeted with warmth, laughter, and an amazing aroma.
I step aside, making sure Dustin gets in with his chair. The couple I watched walk in earlier moves a little, allowing my brother to easily maneuver the entry.
“May I help you?” the hostess asks with a friendly smile.
“How long for a table for two?” I ask, glancing around the room.
“Not long at all,” she replies, glancing at her computer screen. “I have a handicap accessible table being cleaned now. Five minutes?” she offers, earning me a nod in reply.
The couple waiting is taken to a booth, leaving just my brother and I at the front. “Only a few minutes,” I tell Dustin, earning me a smile in return.
I take in the ambiance and the fast pace of the restaurant. Dark woodwork, with a combination of booths and tables. There are three or four servers taking care of them, most of which are filled with happy customers. The food, from what I can see from here, looks amazing and smells even better, causing my stomach to growl loudly.
This burger joint is like nothing I’ve ever seen before.
“If you’ll follow me,” the hostess suggests, grabbing two menus and making her way down the wide main aisle. She leads us to a small table for two along the wall, one of the chairs already removed. It’s near the wide doorway that leads to the bar, so there’s plenty of room for my brother’s wheelchair at the table, and we don’t have to worry about anyone sitting behind him. “Tonight’s special is the Panty Melter burger, hand pressed and grilled to order, topped with cheddar, Monterey Jack, colby, and smoked Gouda, served with freshly cut steak fries. Your server will be with you shortly.”
The moment she leaves us, I moan in pure pleasure. “That sounds amazing,” I mumble, praying no one else heard my excited little noise.
“That’s what I’m getting,” Dustin informs, but peruses the menu to be sure. After only a few seconds, he busts out laughing. “Lyn, check out the names of the burgers.”