Dear Primrose...

                                    

                                          
Primrose's POV:
                          
"Orders: one twenty-three, one eighteen, one o seven, one eleven, waiting to be served!" I yell as I run quickly down the bar to the kitchen window. 
                          
"Guys! Hurry these orders up, still got 9 more to cook!" I shout while taking two plates of food in my hands. I begin speed walking through the restaurant, curving round customers and manoeuvring my way through the tables. 
                          
"Here you go, I am so sorry for the slow service - super busy in here today. Enjoy your food!" I ramble out to the customers, before turning and running back to the bar. All my staff were working super fast - delivering food, clearing tables, making drinks - trying to keep up with the Sunday afternoon rush. It's been 4 weeks since I arrived back from Jamaica, which means we are now in the late weeks of March, and experiencing the spring weather. Tourists and locals flood down to the beach every weekend when the sun comes out, which means they also flock to the barn. 
                          
"Angel, I need two pints of Carling, one double vodka lemonade, and a whiskey on the rocks to table 17." I order, and Angel starts preparing each drink. 
                          
*smash*
                          
 I dart my head to the middle of the room, where a waitress has dropped 3 plates on the floor, and is just stood watching them. For fuck sake! Why are my workers so useless! 
                          
'Fucking idiot!' I mumble to myself as I grab the broom and run it over to her. Shoving it in her hands I whisper shout, "clean it up quickly before those orders over there go cold!"
                          
Usually, when it gets busy my team is very good. Everyone communicates, get orders out fast, everything flows nicely. But today, everyone's being super slow and thoughtless. I don't normally let my anger get the best of me when I'm stressed, however today is the busiest day we've had all year and my workers have their heads up their arses.
                          
I shoot my eyes to the clock. 2:34pm. We don't close until 8:00pm, but the restaurant quiets down around 6:00pm. Not a lot of people seem to come in for dinner. For the next 4 hours, I was sprinting round the restaurant, making drinks, clearing tables, barking orders at my kitchen staff, and getting an occasional snarky comment from Angel like: 'calm down stroppy pants!' Or 'take a chill pill girl!' Which I just responded to with eye rolls or a scowl. 
                          
At around 7:00pm, the restaurant was a lot quieter. My workers were finally on top of things, and I felt it was in a good position for me to leave. Even though I am the boss and can leave whenever I want, I've always stayed and helped out as much as possible when I'm not doing paper work. Normally, I go upstairs at 4:00pm, but I couldn't abandon everyone today. 
                          
"Angel, I'm heading up. Come up when you finish gorj!" I tell him, while putting my order book and pen away behind the till. 
                          
"See you then queen." He responds with a wink and huge grin.
                          
Entering my apartment, I immediately kick my shoes off and head to my bathroom to take a shower.