The One That Got Away - 5SOS // Ashton Irwin (Book 3)

Mr. Callahan

2 1/2 years later
With shaky hands I adjusted the bottles of expensive wine for the umpteenth time. Something was going to go wrong. Something was imperfect and it would ruin the entire day. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach.

"Calm down, you'll do great," my business partner and good friend, Oliver, told me.

"I know, I know that," I nodded my head but then moved the wine bottles again, back to where they were before I had moved them.

"We've done this tens of times, Juliet, don't freak out," he smirked, leaning calmly against the bar.

"I always freak out," I challenged, turning away from both him and the wine, finding something else for me to do. I began cleaning already pristine tables, obsessively perfecting the edges of napkins so they were perfectly in line, and pushing in chairs that were already pressed up against tables. I knew I looked insane, but I feared I would actually go insane if I just sat down and allowed myself to feel my nerves.

"Five minutes to opening," I called after glancing down at my watch. Others had now joined me with the perfecting of the seating area. An hour after opening, laughter and chatter filled the dining area as I looked on from behind the bar.

"We did good, Miss Ainsworth," I heard a voice say, catching my attention. Turning to face the person who stood behind me, I smiled.

"Yeah, I'm glad. It was my reputation at stake this time, Mr. Callahan," I returned to Oliver, grinning a small but incredibly genuine smile.

Oliver and I first met 2 years ago and when he first introduced himself he addressed me as Miss Ainsworth. It quickly became an ongoing bit of repartee between the pair of us.

"Miss Ainsworth?" A man's voice questioned. I turned my attention to a well-groomed, sharply dressed man who held a business card out to me between his index and middle finger, "My name's Oliver Callahan. When you get a moment I'd love to talk to you about your businesses."

I looked down at the card, allowing my eyes to skim over it. I knew who he was. Shay had complained about the people from his company badgering her relentlessly about a year before she died.

I met his gaze again, holding his business card out to him to return it, "I know who you are. I'm not interested."

"Why don't you listen to my offer first," He smirked, making no move to take the card from my hand.

Sighing, I replied, "You can stop by on Sunday at one. We're closed that day. I'll talk to you then."

"I'll have to check my schedule-" Oliver began to say.

"Either make time or don't, I don't really care, but I'm only offering Sunday at one," I shrugged before heading into the back to place a few customers' orders.

That Sunday at one was the first of many business meetings Oliver and I had held. At first, he was simply interested in buying the property I had inherited from Shay, which was the entire block that Shay's Diner resided in. Later on, however, we began working closely together as partners. We began building and opening restaurants together internationally. We had locations in Atlanta, New York City, Toronto, Paris, Rome, and our newest location, Los Angeles.

The opening of this particular restaurant was near and dear to my heart. Not only was it in my city, but it also had my name on the sign, "Ainsworth's".