The old Ridgeview Grill had been transformed.
The cracked tiles were gone. The faded walls had been repainted in warm cream and soft brown. The harsh fluorescent lights had been replaced with gentle fixtures that made the dining room feel welcoming rather than sterile.
Even the counter was different.
It was lower, wider, and designed so that customers using wheelchairs could comfortably approach it.
Near the entrance stood a large wooden sign.
WELCOME TO COMMON TABLE.
Beneath it, smaller letters carried the promise that Talia had insisted remain visible to everyone who entered.
GOOD FOOD. OPEN DOORS. EQUAL RESPECT.
She stood in front of the sign for a long moment.
Six months earlier, she had stood in almost the same place with cold soda running down her face.
She could still remember the sensation.
The liquid had soaked her blouse and dripped from her hair. Her shoes had slipped slightly against the floor. A group of customers had laughed as if humiliating a working woman were entertainment.
She remembered Gregory, the manager, standing nearby and telling her to clean the mess.
She remembered looking toward her coworkers.
Some had lowered their eyes.
Some had pretended to be busy.
And one young server had stood frozen, frightened of losing her job if she said anything.
Talia had spent years convincing herself that enduring such treatment was simply part of working in the service industry.
That morning, she understood how wrong she had been.
A restaurant could be busy without being cruel.
A manager could demand high standards without humiliating employees.
A customer could be dissatisfied without being allowed to abuse someone.
And a woman behind a counter could possess more authority, intelligence, and potential than anyone around her had ever bothered to recognize.
Footsteps sounded near the entrance.
Talia turned.
Maya Ellis walked in carrying a folder and a large paper bag.
"Good morning, boss."
Talia smiled.
"Good morning. What's in the bag?"
"Breakfast."
"I thought we were serving breakfast."
"We are. This is for the people who are going to spend three hours listening to you talk."
Talia laughed.
"That sounds like a serious accusation."
Maya placed the bag on the counter.
"Coffee, muffins, and a few things from the bakery down the street. I figured we should keep people alive before asking them to learn twenty new policies."
"That's thoughtful."
"I learned from the best."
Talia raised an eyebrow.
"Who?"
Maya grinned.
"Someone who remembers whether people take sugar in their coffee."
Talia shook her head, smiling.
Maya had changed considerably since the day at Ridgeview Grill.
She was still young, still energetic, and still carried a little nervousness when speaking to people in authority. But she no longer looked at the floor whenever someone questioned her.
She had accepted the position of employee-support coordinator, a role Talia had helped create.
Her responsibilities included helping employees understand workplace policies, guiding them through the reporting process, and ensuring that concerns reached the independent human-resources team.
It was not a decorative position.
Maya would have access to the same management channels as department supervisors. She would receive formal training, and her performance would be evaluated partly on how effectively employees' concerns were addressed.
Talia had made one thing clear when offering her the position.
Maya would never be expected to protect management from uncomfortable truths.
Her job was to help make sure those truths were heard.
"Are you ready?" Maya asked.
Talia glanced toward the dining room.
"No."
Maya laughed.
"At least you're honest."
"Let's begin."
By seven-thirty, all twenty-four employees had arrived.
Some were familiar faces from the old Ridgeview Grill.
Others had come from different restaurants, hotels, and catering companies.
There were experienced cooks, servers, dishwashers, hosts, and shift supervisors. Several young people were beginning their first jobs in hospitality.
Talia had reviewed every application personally, but she had not made every hiring decision alone. The selection process had included interviews with department supervisors, reference checks, and discussions with the human-resources team.
She wanted people with different experiences.
Some employees had spent decades in restaurants. Others had never worked in one.
Some were naturally outgoing. Others were quieter and more comfortable working behind the scenes.
She believed a good team needed more than identical personalities.
It needed people who could learn from one another.
When everyone had settled into their seats, Talia stepped toward the center of the dining room.
She wore a simple cream-colored blouse, black trousers, and comfortable shoes. Her hair was neatly pulled back.
She carried a leather-bound notebook.
The same notebook Adrien had given her during the first morning they returned to the empty restaurant.