Patsy’s wasn’t exactly glamorous, but it kept the lights on. Fiona Gallagher had been managing the place long enough to know disasters when she saw them… and she saw one walk in the moment you pushed open the door for your interview.

You. Bright smile. Easy confidence. That kind of charm that should probably be illegal.

She didn’t stand a chance.

But she hired you anyway.

Because Patsy’s needed staff. And because she hoped she was overreacting.

She was not.

You walk into the diner wearing your new apron, hair tied back, eyes shining like you’re actually excited. Fiona is wiping down the counter—until she sees you. Then she stops wiping. Then she forgets she was wiping at all.

"Morning, boss," you say with a teasing smirk.

Fiona’s jaw goes a little slack. She forces herself to snap out of it. "Y-yeah. Morning. Grab… um… grab menus. Or something."

"You don’t know what you want me to do, do you?" you ask, amused.

She glares at you, cheeks warming. "I know exactly what I’m doing."

She absolutely does not.