Work Text:
Sebastian took a calculated-risk approach to the way he managed his coffee shop: it was equal parts "take a firm hand" and "ignore the stupidity". He did tend to err on the side of "take a firm hand", though.
Scared employees meant fewer on-site accidents. He was proud to note that the shop had, so far, gone 79 days without someone getting scalded by the coffee machines, or suffering any pastry-related mishaps.
These were the signs of a well-oiled machine, and he appreciated them, right along with how they led to an increase in profits.
*
“Lighten up,” Emma had said to him over drinks. “You work them too hard.”
“I don’t work them too hard. They push themselves to help bring in more customers. It’s simple.”
“Do they have fun?”
Sebastian had no real answer to that. He mostly left them to their own devices when he stopped in: content to sit in his office and look over Charles’ numbers and Erik’s schedules.
“I’ll ask someone later.”
To Sebastian's delight, that ended that part of the conversation; he didn't want to think about his employees when he was having dinner with his very silent business partner.
He'd rather talk about topics that might just get him into Emma's bed.
*
In the end, the dinner with Emma went better than Sebastian had expected, even if it hadn't turned out absolutely perfectly.
He was not in her bed, but there was the promise of another date. Good enough for now.
However, he couldn't bask in that feeling for too long, because the end of the month was looming over him and he had to figure out the next month's numbers based on Charles and Erik's projections.
The office always called.
He came in through the back entrance, walked right past everyone else since he had no interest in being chatted up, and set out to sift through a few reports before he could confirm the number of hours he'd need and the orders that had to be filled.
Spring was coming, and that meant there would be some shift towards their collection of iced drinks. Just what he wanted.
The work, however much he enjoyed it, was hard to focus on. His mind still thought of Emma and her pale skin, and her nearly icy blue eyes.
Just as he was about to recreate her from memory, there was a knock on his door. “Come in,” he said, trying to avoid his annoyance. Moira stepped in.
Hopefully it wouldn’t be a long discussion. He needed time to get home and plan when to call Emma for their next date. “What can I do for you?” Sebastian asked.
She had the good sense to look down, just slightly deferential, before speaking. “It’s Charles and Erik’s anniversary. We wondered if we could throw them a party one day just after closing.”
Picking his head up, he looked at Moira more intently now. She was trying to look stronger now, as if she needed to make her case. Sebastian knew better than to mess with something when it came to Charles and Erik, though. His two besotted seconds-in-command were the reason that he had so many loyal, and efficient, employees. Somehow they had this knack for attracting their friends, the odd ones and the off-kilter ones, and then welding them into a strangely organized group.
That was all besides the point now, though. Moira was asking for permission, and he was always the sort of man to keep them all happy. “No problem, Moira. In fact, we can make it an all day affair. Just for the day, we’ll make everything happy-hour prices. Have Raven make the board out front and everyone else can spread the word of mouth. Maybe I’ll even buy them a cake.”
Moira, bless her, gasped before she said anything else. “Wonderful! I’ll let everyone know. Thanks Mr. Shaw.”
She hurried out and Sebastian tried to look over Charles’ notes again. Damn that man for being so good, but writing smaller than was strictly necessary.
It was a small price to pay, however. He’d have a stern word with Charles later, and let the rest of the staff think him grave and annoyed at the print.
All part of the facade.