Page 198 of Micah

“Maybe more than a few.”

She laughs softly, shaking her head.

“I don't know whether to hug you or argue with you.”

“I'd vote for the hug. But I’m here if you want to argue.”

Another smile.

God.

I'm getting addicted to those.

After another few minutes of phone calls, crossed-out names, and scribbled notes, the schedule is finally finished.

She leans back in the office chair, rubbing tiredly at the back of her neck.

“Okay, next week is shaping up, but I have to stay until close tonight.”

I reach for the clipboard and study the schedule myself.

She's managed to fill every shift.

Barely.

It'll work.

For now.

Long term?

She needs a floor manager. Someone she trusts to run this place when she can't be here.

The thought files itself away in the back of my mind.

One problem at a time.

“Okay.”

I hand the clipboard back.

“I'll stay with you the nights you have to close.”

She blinks.

“Micah, you can't do that.”

“Sure I can.”

“No, you have work.”

“It's the weekend.”

She folds her arms.

“Tell me you don’t still work on weekends.”

Fuck.