District Manager

“Are you certain you are ready to work the floor,” asked Anita for the 100th time since Miles started his shift. He appreciated her concern, but she seemed nervous about having him working on the floor even though everyone had approved.

“I’m fine, Anita, thank you for your concern,” he offered with a smile that made the nervous woman return the gesture.

“Alright, if you say so. But if it's to much, let me know.”

She wandered off to tend to a customer, leaving Miles alone at the register, ringing up a customer.

“She’s usually like this when people start working on the floor. She’ll ease up in a couple of days,” assured Oliver as he brought an order to the kitchen window.

“It’s fine. It shows Anita cares about the people she is in charge of,” said Miles. Oliver looked toward the kitchen. Miles followed his look and saw Shasta take the slip of paper from Oliver.

“Yeah, she could be the manager if she didn’t need to check every customer’s hand for her soulmate. And if she started working here before Cyrus…”

Miles nodded in agreement as a man in business attire entered the diner.

“Table for one, sir?” Miles took out a menu, ready to escort the man to an open table.

“You must be the new hire. I’m Frank Vanowen, the District Manager from corporate.” The man flashed his business card.

“Miles Sonata. So, you’re the actual manager of Tormino’s? Not Cyrus?”

Frank laughed for a bit, leaving Miles confused. He looked over to Oliver, who was heading their way with an order.

“We wish he was the manager.”

Miles looked back to Frank, who had calmed down from laughing.

“That bad, huh?”

“No, no, not bad, just surprised - and confused. What’s Cyrus’ position?”

“He’s the manager of this Tormino’s. I manage the other Tormino’s in the district. I visit a couple of other restaurants every now in then. Otherwise, I’m at headquarters or helping my grandmother.”

He sighed, looking off in the distance, “Poor old woman.” He looked back at Miles, undisturbed by his previous comment. “Is Cyrus is in the back?”

“Yeah, he should be in his office.” Miles pointed to the back of the restaurant.

“Thanks.”

Frank waved then proceeded around the back. Miles watched him head back, noticing Ramona working the bar, also watching.

“Does Frank visit often,” asked Miles.

“Not very often,” whispered Ramona, “usually once a month to check on things. If Cyrus and Shasta let him.”

Miles looked back to Frank, who was knocking on Cyrus’ door with a happy grin on his face.

“Cyrus, it’s Frank. Can I come in?”

The door burst open, missing Frank by a few centimeters, as Cyrus shoved several papers into his arms.

“Here you go. Have a nice month.”

The door slammed shut, Frank’s hair was askew from the rapid wind of the door.

“Cyrus, you know I need to check the computer. Make sure all accounting is up to date. Cyrus?”

Frank started knocking on the door.

“Cyrus? Cyrus, let me in!”

It changed to a frantic pounding which didn’t budge the door an inch.

“Oh, is Frank here,” asked Anita, passing by the register.

“Yes, Cyrus won’t let him into the office,” answered Miles.

“Oh, dear.”

Anita flitted her way towards the back.

“Frank, can you stop pounding on the door. The noise will bother the customers.”

“But Cyrus won’t let me in. He only gave me this.” Frank held up the wrinkly mess of papers damaged by his pounding.

“Ok, why don’t you first work on those, and when you have questions, then ask Cyrus.”

“Ok, thank you, Anita. You are so reliable.”

Frank patted her head; Anita lit up when he did. He then walked over to the breakroom.

“Can I have some tea?”

“Of course.”

Anita made her way back to the front.

“Ramona, do you think you can make Frank some tea?”

“Sure,” she whispered, heading towards the hot water machine to get the tea ready.

Miles finished ringing up the customer, taking the receipt over to him. He returned to the front to see Ramona looking between the teacup in her hand and the breakroom.

“Everything alright?”

Ramona jumped at Miles's sudden presence, nearly spilling the tea.

“I…um...” Ramona whispered as she kept looking between the cup and the breakroom.

“Are you scared of Frank?”

“Not scared! Just nervous. I don’t see him that often, so I’m not used to him yet. And I don’t want to spill the tea.”

“Ok, why don’t we both take it to him?”

Ramona nodded, lifting the cup from the table. She walked over to the breakroom, Miles following her until they made it to Frank.

“Here,” Ramona managed as she set the cup at the table, running behind Miles to hide, only to trip. Miles caught her before she fell too far.

“That’s new,” commented Frank as he drank the tea.

“Yeah,” Miles helped Ramona back to an upright position, the girl hiding her reddening face behind him. “I caught her when Cyrus hired me, so it stuck.”

“Eh? So its young love then?”

“No, no, no, no!” protested both Ramona and Miles while Frank kept smiling at them.

“Young love must be wonderful.” He looked off to the distance, “I will probably never marry because I am my grandmother’s caretaker. No woman wants to live with a man who spends his time between work and his grandmother.”

He continued looking off, tears welling up in his eyes. Miles turned back around to let him and Ramona out of the breakroom.

“Hey, I was about to go on break,” called out Sierra as she approached the breakroom. She peered around Miles to see Frank inside.

“Ah, Frank is here today. Frank!”

Frank snapped out of his daze, smiling at Sierra.

“Sierra, is Shasta ready to see me?”

Sierra froze, panic appearing on her face.

“You can try asking him,” she offered as Frank’s face went pale.

“Ok.”

Frank stood, taking a clipboard with some paper and a pen, and then walked over to the entrance of the kitchen. Miles and Ramona had both moved to the window at the bar to see what would happen. Shasta was already at the kitchen opening, blocking the path.

“Shasta, may I inspect the kitchen?” asked Frank, more timidly than before. Shasta crossed his arms, blocking the entrance to the kitchen, holding a ladle in one of his hands. Sierra was behind him, looking terrified.

“Shasta, please,” Frank begged.

“One of the lightbulbs doesn’t match the second one in the refrigerator. Needs to be daylight, not tungsten. The plasticware used to hold cabbage is warping, so we need a new one. Sierra hit the edge of the table with the wok.” And on the list, it went, Frank scribbling everything down everything Shasta said.

“What’s going on,” asked Anita, moving over to the bar along with Oliver, who had joined to watch.

“Looks like Shasta and Frank are working on the kitchen report,” commented Oliver.

“I’m glad they are compromising. Now to get Cyrus to be more open,” commented Anita before welcoming a new customer.

---

“See everyone next month,” called out Frank as he stumbled out of the restaurant. He looked more like a survivor of a traffic accident than the happy businessman who had arrived.

“So, why do you want him to be the manager,” asked Miles, looking over to Oliver, who was making a parfait.

“He’s very entertaining to have around. Cyrus is more painful to have around, if anything.”

“But Cyrus lets you stay here?”

“More emotionally painful.”

“She hasn’t stopped by in a while, has she?” Sierra looked up through the window at the taller males.

“True. Hopefully, she’ll come by soon.”

“Who?”