Taste of Iron

Ten: Making Things Right

Ten: Making Things Right

a.n. // double update, don't forget to read chapter 9 before this

"Hey Shawn," Emil said, looking up from the folder that he was reading. "I was going through the paycheques we're going to give out and I couldn't help but notice that Atlas gets paid the same as the sous chefs. Shouldn't his compensation be higher?"

"Oh," Shawn, the manager frowned. "You're right. He was just a stand-in when the previous head chef quit, but then Mr. Edwards gave him the position. Honestly, I'm not surprised he didn't increase his salary."

"Why's that?" Emil asked.

"He was a bit of a cheap ass," Shawn shrugged. "I know Atlas worshipped him because he offered the boy the job and all, but I'm not surprised he was under-paying the poor kid and that Atlas didn't ask for more. Especially after the hours that he puts in..."

"Well, we've got to fix that now, don't we?" Emil muttered to himself.

He had met the old owner when they were finalizing the deal, and Emil did get a weird vibe from him. He was a good judge of character, and he had been right. Atlas literally slaved away in the kitchen and kept the restaurant running, and for what? The sorry ass paycheque he was getting?

Emil knew that he bought the restaurant on a whim. He wasn't new to making rash decisions, and frankly even though he was aware that he had a crush on Atlas, he wasn't completely sure how long that was going to last.

That's what his friend, Ava, warned him about too. Reminding him how he would date someone new every week and then get bored. But something was just different about his feelings for Atlas.

Emil didn't just want to take the man out on a date, get him into his bed and then say goodbye in the morning. He wanted to get to know him more. He wanted to learn what made him happy and what made him tick. He wanted to know where he was from, about his family and about every single thing that he loved or hated. He wanted to know why he dyed his hair blue and all of his stories, from his history to his plans for the future.

He wanted...more. More than he'd ever wanted anything with anyone.

Emil had trouble falling to sleep at night because he couldn't stop thinking about the blue-haired chef, but despite being the person that used to snore till the afternoon and still be grumpy later— he'd now wake up before his alarm with a huge smile on his face, feeling excited about the day as he'd get to see Atlas.

Which was why he couldn't help but notice how tired Atlas looked. The bags under his eyes were getting deeper. A third person may not be able to tell since his work was still top-notch, but Emil could see the exhaustion quite clearly.

He knew he'd be making some changes, and they were going to start with Atlas.

"Hey Atlas?" Emil spoke up as he reached him. The head chef looked at him, his face devoid of any expression as he waited for the crime boss to continue. "Can you come see me in Shawn's office when you're free?"

"Is everything okay?" Atlas frowned. "Am I in any trouble?"

"Nothing of that sort, don't worry. I just want to have a conversation," Emil added. "Work related."

"Okay," Atlas muttered. "It's Friday and we're overbooked again. Can it wait until after dinner service?"

"Sure."

Emil didn't like it, but he decided to give Atlas some space. If it was up to him, he'd stay in the same room as him all the time, but he could tell that Atlas was beginning to feel tense. So once in a while, he'd let the man breathe and focus on what he did best.