Casey is on her way to the break room for more coffee when she overhears someone in the accounting office next door mention her name.
“We have to tell Casey. We have no choice.”
Her neck hairs stand to attention as she enters the office. “Tell me what?”
Renee and Marsha—the vineyards most top-ranking accounting personnel—exchange a look.
Casey plants a hand on her hip. “One of you better start talking.”
Marsha gives Renee the nod, and Renee exhales a huff of air. “Our accounts are all overdrawn. We’ll have to use the reserve account to make payroll at the end of the week.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Casey closes the door. “How on earth did this happen?”
“I’m done covering for him.” Renee tosses her pen on the desk and sits back in her chair. “Hugh is responsible. He started making small withdrawals months ago. Now sizeable sums are leaving the account daily. He must be desperate, because he’s not bothering to hide it anymore.”
Casey hesitates, unsure of how to respond. Embezzlement is low, even for Hugh. “And you’re sure Hugh is behind this?”
“I can print out the bank statements to show you,” Marsha says.
“Please. Make several copies, if you don’t mind.”
Marsha’s fingers fly across her keyboard and seconds later, paper shoots out of the printer. She separates the pages, staples them, and hands the stack to Casey.
“I’m sure you two understand that this is a delicate matter, and I need to decide how best to proceed. Don’t do anything until you hear from me.” Casey marches out of the office and down the hall, her coffee refill forgotten.
She drops the printouts on her desk and continues on for her morning tour of the winery. When she exits the building, she spots an angry-looking Bruce in the parking lot heading toward his car.
Running after him, Casey calls out, “Bruce! Wait up! Is something wrong?”
“Hugh just fired me,” Bruce says, clicking his doors unlocked.
Adrenaline rushes through Casey’s body. “That’s absurd. On what grounds?”
“He says my services as winemaker are no longer needed now that we’ve reformulated the varietals.”
Casey steps in his way, preventing him from getting in the car. “That’s not true at all. The vineyard is growing by leaps and bounds. We need you now more than ever.”
Bruce slumps against the car. “This isn’t about the vineyard, Casey. Hugh blames me for breaking up his marriage.”
“Hugh ruined his own marriage when he assaulted Laney. But none of that matters, because Hugh doesn’t have the authority to fire you.”
“Tell that to him. He offered me a month’s severance and a letter of recommendation. Not that his word means anything in this industry.”
“Look, Bruce. This is just a big misunderstanding. Take the rest of the day off while I sort this out.”
Bruce stares at the ground as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t know, Casey. I enjoy working here, but I’ve had enough of Hugh. Even if you sort it out with him, I’m not sure I can stay.”
“There’s a lot going on that I’m not a liberty to discuss. Can you give me a couple of days? If all goes as planned, Hugh will be the one getting fired.”
“All right,” Bruce says reluctantly. “But only because I don’t want to leave Laney. There’s not another vineyard in Virginia I would work for. If I want to continue as a winemaker, I’ll have to move back to California.”
“You shouldn’t have to do that. We’ll figure it out,” she says, forcing a smile.
Casey watches Bruce drive away before turning back toward the bistro. When she opens the front door, she hears voices arguing in the kitchen. Bursting through the swinging doors, she finds Hugh wagging his finger at Chef Michael’s red face.
“What’s with all the yelling?” Casey asks.
“He just fired me,” Michael says. “For no apparent reason.”
Hugh lets out a grunt. “I gave you two reasons. You’re overpaid, and your food sucks.”
Moving in closer, Casey sees Hugh is sweating profusely. From the smell of him, last night’s booze is seeping through his pores. “You’re out of line, Hugh. Michael’s cuisine is the best in town, and he’s worth every penny we pay him.”
“Correction. You don’t pay me enough to put up with his horse manure.” Michael takes off his apron and throws it on the counter. “I’m outta here.”
“Good riddance,” Hugh shouts at the chef’s retreating back.
Casey hurries after Michael, working hard to match his stride as they cross the parking lot. “Please don’t go, Michael. Hugh is a problem, and I will deal with him. But you’re the face of Vino Bistro. Without you, the restaurant won’t survive.”
“I’m sorry, Casey. But I saw this coming a mile away. Hugh’s been badgering me for weeks, and I’ve been looking for other jobs. I received an offer this morning at a startup restaurant in Richmond.”
Near tears, Casey says, “What am I supposed to do without a chef?”
Michael arrives at his truck and opens the driver’s door. “Rod is an excellent sous-chef. He can manage things until you find a replacement.” He gets in the truck and drives off, leaving Casey standing alone and feeling helpless.
Twirling a strand of hair, Casey walks in circles as she decides what to do. Daniel is on his way home from North Carolina. She could call him for advice, but she can’t run to him every time she has an issue. He’s ready to retire. He needs to know she’s capable of handling whatever problems arise, no matter how big or small.
She can do this. She’ll tackle one problem at a time.
She pulls out her phone and taps on Bruce’s number. He answers on the third ring. “I’m glad I caught you. I’ve been thinking. I’d like to expand our wine collection, and I want to start with a sparkling rosé. Can you get right on that, please?”
“But what about Hugh?”
“Let me worry about Hugh. If he gives you any more trouble, you come to me.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Bruce says with admiration in his tone. “I think a sparkling rosé will be an excellent addition to your collection. I’ll get right on it.”
Casey hangs up with Bruce and calls Fiona, her close friend and head chef at Ollie’s tasting room cafe. She quickly tells Fiona about Hugh firing Chef Michael. “I’m in desperate need of a head chef. I figured you might know someone.”
“I do. That someone is Rod, your sous-chef. What he lacks in experience, he makes up for in talent. I can put you in touch with a chef headhunter, but if I were you, I’d give Rod a chance first. He’s truly gifted, Casey.”
“That’s high praise coming from you. I’ll give him a shot. Coincidentally, I’m bringing my friend from New York over later for lunch at The Foxhole.”
“Cool! I can’t wait to meet her. See you soon.”
Pocketing her phone, Casey returns to the Vino Bistro kitchen and pulls Rod aside. “Are you capable of holding down the fort while I look for a replacement?” She’s willing to give Rod a chance, but he has to ask for it.
“Yes, ma’am. I’d appreciate the opportunity to apply for the job myself. I have some special dishes I’d like to prepare for you.”
“All right then. Work up a dinner menu, and I’ll invite some friends over at the end of the week.”
“Awesome! Prepare your friends to be wowed.”
“If nothing else, I applaud your enthusiasm,” she says, and exits the kitchen. One thing’s for certain—Rod is much easier to be around than moody Michael.
Casey inhales a deep breath to steady her nerves. Two problems solved. One to go, she thinks and heads back upstairs to the administrative offices.
Hugh’s door is closed, and when she enters without knocking, she finds him asleep in his chair with his feet propped on the desk. “Napping before noon? Must’ve been a rough night.”
Hugh’s eyes open wide, and he throws his feet off the desk. “Who do you think you are, barging in here without knocking?”
“I’m your business partner. Since you’ve been making some decisions without my approval, I’m returning the favor.” She plops down in the chair opposite him. “I’ve rehired Bruce. For the foreseeable future, he’ll be working on a new sparkling rosé varietal. And I’m allowing Rod, our sous-chef, to apply for the head chef position.”
He glares at her. “And if I don’t agree?”
“I’ll show Daniel these.” She holds up the printouts from the bank accounts.
Hugh squints as he tries to read the small print. “What is that?”
“Evidence of your embezzlement. Keep your greedy hands out of our bank accounts.” Casey stands and slaps the printout on the desk in front of Hugh. “I’ll have accounting tally up these withdrawals. You have exactly one month to return the money to the accounts.”
Hugh goes pale. “Or else what?”
“Or else I’ll press charges,” she says, and strides out of his office, feeling proud of herself for standing up to him.