(Start of Week 20. Theo's Balance: $18,655.00)

  Week 20 - Monday

  The raw, physical exhaustion from the weekend’s sell-out mayhem had seeped deep into Theo’s bones, yet Monday morning arrived not with dread, but with a sharp, almost ruthless clarity. The numbers didn't lie. The chicken shop, powered by his enhanced tools, was a potential goldmine, but he was the bottleneck. Standing amidst the lingering scent of charcoal and fryer oil before opening for the week, the path forward was unavoidable, however much his ingrained paranoia recoiled from it.

  He needed help.

  His first act, before even starting the day's prep, was to print a simple, bold sign on his laptop’s printer: HELP WANTED - Counter Staff / Kitchen Hand Needed. Apply Within. He taped it prominently inside the front window, next to the slightly faded ‘Maria’s Charcoal Chicken’ name he hadn't yet decided whether to keep or replace. It felt like crossing a threshold, willingly inviting unknowns into his carefully controlled operation. As much as he craved absolute control, the memory of Sunday’s frantic, overwhelming rush, turning away disappointed customers simply because he couldn't physically prep and serve fast enough, was a potent motivator. Growth required delegation. Scaling required manpower. There was no way around it.

  He mentally sketched out the requirements as he began the day’s prep, hoisting heavy bags of potatoes, portioning chickens with his +1 enhanced Santoku knife that sliced through bone almost effortlessly. He needed someone reliable, hardworking, preferably with some food service experience but not essential, the enhanced equipment simplified the cooking process considerably. Young, energetic enough to handle the physical demands of standing for hours, dealing with hot fryers and the demanding rotisserie. And crucially, someone who wouldn't ask too many awkward questions about why the ten-year-old fryer never seemed to have temperature fluctuations or why the ancient rotisserie cooked every single chicken to identical, perfect juiciness. He needed diligence, not deep curiosity.

  Monday settled into a busy but manageable rhythm. News of the weekend's quality seemed to have spread further. The flow of customers was steadier than last week's opening days. He managed eighty sales before closing, working with practiced efficiency now, the movements becoming familiar, almost automatic. The profit margin felt solid, even accounting for the higher ingredient costs due to volume.

  Week 20 - Tuesday

  Tuesday brought another uptick, ninety sales. He sold out of his prepped chickens half an hour before closing time. The demand was consistently exceeding his solo capacity. As he was cleaning down the stainless steel prep table (+1 enhanced surface resisting scratches and wiping clean with surprising ease), his phone buzzed. Sarah.

  He answered, balancing the phone between his shoulder and ear while scrubbing. "Hey Sarah, what's up?"

  "Hey Theo! Just checking in!" Her voice sounded bright, energetic, a stark contrast to her previous work anxieties. "Saw some more amazing reviews pop up for Maria's over the weekend! How did the rest of the week go after my social media blitz?"

  "Busy," Theo understated, glancing around the shop that still bore the marks of a frantic day. "Really busy, actually. Your… uh… digital PR seemed to work wonders. Seriously, thanks again for that."

  "Awesome! Told you the food just needed the right spotlight!" she chirped. "Keeping up with the posting though, right? Consistency is key with those algorithms. You need to keep feeding them content, customer photos, specials, behind-the-scenes…"

  Theo sighed internally. "Honestly? Haven't had a spare second," he admitted. "It's been non-stop since Friday. Barely keeping up with orders, let alone thinking about Instagram stories."

  "Theo!" Sarah's tone shifted to mock-serious marketing guru mode. "No, no, no! You can't let the momentum die! People have short attention spans online. They see one good post, great. But if they don't see reminders, engagement… they move on to the next shiny thing. You need to stay visible!"

  He could picture her gesturing emphatically on the other end. "Yeah, I get it," he said, slightly defensively. "Just… haven't had the bandwidth."

  "Okay, okay," Sarah relented slightly. "Tell you what, I checked the reviews again just now, looks like another couple of five-stars came in yesterday praising the food. That'll keep things simmering for a bit. But listen, things are still crazy at work with this restructure fallout, but maybe sometime next week I could swing by again? Take a proper look at your online presence, maybe help you set up a simple content schedule? My treat again, consider it pro-bono consulting for amazing chicken."

  Theo felt a familiar mix of gratitude and calculation. Her help was undeniably valuable. Her expertise was free, for now. And keeping her engaged… kept options open. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, that would actually be great, Sarah. Let's touch base early next week?" He thought again about partnership, about her potential role if he could find the right angle. The Tool Enhancement strategy made collaboration seem slightly less impossible, offering a plausible explanation for consistent quality. Maybe…

  Week 20 - Wednesday

  Wednesday was Interview Day. Theo had received a surprising number of applications after putting the sign up Monday morning, mostly from local kids looking for after-school work, but a few more promising candidates stood out. He scheduled four back-to-back interviews during the quieter mid-afternoon lull.

  First up was Henry. Mid-twenties (27, his application said), with a surprisingly earnest demeanour and a firm handshake. His resume listed three years at McDonald's. "Honestly, sir," Henry said, sitting opposite Theo at one of the small customer tables, "I learned a lot about process and speed there, but… it’s soul-crushing. Same thing, day in, day out. Corporate rules for everything." He leaned forward slightly. "I want to learn how a real small business works. See how things are built from the ground up. My dream is to maybe open my own place someday, something simple, good food." He spoke about working the grill, managing stock, dealing with rushes, his experience feeling practical and relevant. He seemed like a genuine hard worker, hungry for opportunity. Potential: High, Theo noted internally. Motivated, experienced in fast food environment, stated long-term interest.

  Next was Tammy. Late twenties (28), she presented as sharp, confident, perhaps a little intense. Her resume was impressive: assistant manager at a local cafe, shift supervisor at a pizza chain, even a stint running her own small sandwich bar that had unfortunately closed last year ("Market downturn, landlord issues," she explained vaguely, maybe a little too quickly). She clearly knew the ins and outs of food service, ordering, inventory, scheduling, health codes. "I thrive under pressure," she stated confidently. "Ran the lunch rush solo at the cafe plenty of times. I know what it takes to keep things moving." Potential: High, but… Theo sensed a slight edge, a hint of perhaps being too experienced, maybe bringing her own fixed ideas? The failed business was a small red flag, though her explanation was plausible. Definitely capable, maybe harder to manage?

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  Third was Olivia. Mid-twenties (25), bright, friendly smile, dressed impeccably. Her experience was primarily in retail, a boutique clothing store. "I know it's different from food," she admitted cheerfully, "but I'm great with customers, really organized, and I learn super fast! And honestly?" She grinned. "I tried your chicken on Wednesday, my friend dragged me here after seeing something online, and it was AMAZING! Seriously the best I've had. I figured working here would mean free chicken, right?" Her honesty was disarming, her attitude positive, but her lack of food service experience was obvious. She seemed unsure of her long-term goals, content to "go with the flow." Potential: Moderate. Good front-of-house presence, positive attitude, but needs training. Backup option.

  The last two candidates were less promising. One, Kevin, a perpetually bored-looking teenager, answered questions in monosyllables and seemed primarily interested in how often he could take breaks. The other, Marcus, talked a big game about his "culinary background" which turned out to be six months working at a sub shop five years ago, and spent most of the interview complaining about previous bosses. Theo mentally discarded both immediately.

  He thanked each candidate, promising to be in touch soon. Mulling it over while prepping for the dinner rush, the choice seemed clear. Henry offered the best combination of relevant experience, strong work ethic, and apparent eagerness to learn within Theo's system. Tammy was highly skilled but might be resistant to doing things his way. Olivia was personable but would require significant training. Henry first, Theo decided. Get him trained, see how it goes. If volume continues to explode, maybe bring Tammy or Olivia in as a second hire later.

  Wednesday’s dinner service was busy again, slightly less frantic than the weekend but steady. He managed eighty-five sales, the consistency reassuring.

  Week 20 – Thursday

  Thursday morning, Theo called Henry, feeling a mix of hope and trepidation about bringing on his first employee. "Henry, Theo Sterling from Maria's Charcoal Chicken. Following up on your interview yesterday. Just wanted to formally offer you the position."

  "Seriously? Awesome!" Henry's voice was full of genuine enthusiasm, cutting through the phone line. "Thank you so much, Theo! I really liked the vibe of the place."

  "Glad to hear it. We're definitely getting busier, could use the help. When would you be able potentially start?" Theo asked.

  "Uh, let's see," Henry paused for a second. "Could I start Saturday morning? Just got a couple of prior commitments to wrap up tomorrow, but I'm free all weekend."

  "Saturday works perfectly," Theo confirmed. Starting just before the weekend rush might actually be ideal. "Plan to be here around 10 AM for prep? Pay is ten dollars an hour to start, standard payroll, plus potential for bonuses based on performance and shop profitability once we're established. Sound okay?" He reiterated the offer, knowing it was modest but fair for the role, and better than Henry's previous gig.

  "$10 an hour? Yeah, that's great!" Henry confirmed again, sounding pleased. "And bonuses? Even better. Okay, awesome. I'll see you Saturday morning at 10!"

  Theo hung up, feeling a distinct sense of relief coupled with cautious optimism. Step one of building a team was complete. Anticipating higher volume towards the weekend, he spent Thursday morning prepping aggressively, more chickens seasoned, mountains of potatoes peeled and cut (using his +1 enhanced mandoline slicer). He aimed for enough stock for 120 sales, pushing his solo limits. Thursday night was strong. A steady stream of customers, including more repeat faces, kept him busy right up until closing. The final tally: 107 sales. A new weekday record. The momentum was undeniably building.

  Week 20 - Friday

  Friday afternoon arrived with the distinct promise of weekend intensity. The flow of customers started earlier than usual, keeping Theo busy from mid-afternoon onwards. He was managing okay, the enhanced equipment humming along reliably, but he could feel the pressure building towards the evening peak, already anticipating the struggle of handling it solo one last time before Henry started tomorrow.

  Around 4:30 PM, just as the after-work crowd started trickling in more seriously, the bell above the door jangled and Henry poked his head in, dressed in casual clothes.

  "Hey Theo!" Henry greeted him cheerfully. "Just finished up nearby, thought I'd swing by and see how the place looks in action before I start tomorrow. Smells amazing in here!"

  Theo felt a wave of relief at the friendly face, even if he wasn't officially on the clock yet. "Hey Henry, glad you stopped by. Getting busy already." He gestured towards the rotisserie. "Grab a seat if you can find one clear, let me get you some food. Might as well see what you'll be selling tomorrow."

  Theo quickly plated up a generous portion of chicken and chips and handed it over. Henry sat at one of the small tables, eating enthusiastically while observing the shop's operation, occasionally asking Theo questions about the workflow during momentary lulls.

  Then, around 5:30 PM, the trickle became a flood. The small waiting area filled up, the phone started ringing with takeaway orders, and the online order pings added a constant beat to the growing chaos. Theo moved faster, juggling orders, packing boxes, handling payments, the strain beginning to show.

  Henry finished his food, watching Theo get slammed, trying to manage three orders simultaneously while the phone rang unanswered. After a minute, Henry stood up decisively, wiping his hands on a napkin.

  "Whoa, looks intense!" Henry called out over the noise. "Need an extra pair of hands for a bit? Seriously, I can jump on the register or pack if you want? Looks like you're getting buried!"

  Theo looked up, surprised by the proactive offer, a surge of immense gratitude washing over him. "You sure, Henry? You don't even start 'til tomorrow."

  "Nah, it's cool! Consider it pre-shift training!" Henry grinned, already grabbing a spare apron from the hook. "Just point me where you need me most!"

  "Register," Theo said immediately, relief making his voice slightly hoarse. "Just take orders, handle cash and card payments. I'll handle the food."

  Henry jumped right in, his McDonald's training evident. He picked up the +1 enhanced POS system intuitively, greeted customers politely, handled transactions quickly and accurately, bagged orders neatly, and even started organizing the waiting tickets. His presence instantly relieved the pressure, allowing Theo to focus entirely on the rhythm of chicken, chips, seasoning, boxing. They fell into an unexpected, effective rhythm, Henry calling out orders, Theo confirming and plating. The dinner rush, while still intense, felt manageable, almost smooth. They hit 128 sales by closing time, higher than Thursday despite the initial solo struggle.

  "You," Theo said as they finally leaned against the counter after locking the door, surveying the messy but productive aftermath, "were an absolute lifesaver tonight, Henry. Seriously."

  "Hey, no problem!" Henry beamed, clearly buzzing from the adrenaline. "It was actually fun! Way better than flipping burgers. This system you've got flows pretty well once you get the hang of it."

  Theo pulled out his wallet. He counted out fifty dollars. "Here's for the hours you jumped in tonight," he said, handing it over. Then he counted out another hundred dollars. "And this is because you showed up early, stepped up without being asked when I was drowning, and basically proved you're exactly the kind of person I need here. Consider it a welcome aboard bonus and thanks for saving my ass tonight." He pushed the full $150 towards Henry. "Welcome aboard properly tomorrow morning."

  Henry stared at the cash, his jaw slack. "$150? But I only worked like, four hours! Wow! Thanks, Theo! Seriously, thank you! I won't let you down. See you at 10 AM sharp!" He pocketed the money carefully, practically vibrating with excitement as he headed out.

  Theo watched him go, leaning heavily against the counter, exhaustion hitting him now that the rush was over. But beneath the fatigue was a potent sense of accomplishment and validation. Hiring good people, trusting them even a little… maybe it wasn't just necessary. Maybe it was the key.