Chapter Sixteen
“Thanks for meeting me for lunch.” Hunter kissed Colby’s cheek and sat across from her at Gab-n-Eat, their favorite greasy spoon. Nothing ever changed here: not the ripped vinyl seat cushions, chipped Formica tabletops, or funky mix of sausage, onion, and bacon aromas.
Of course, Hunter looked out of place—in his crisp bespoke shirt and Patek Philippe watch—but both she and he had laid claim to this booth eons ago, when they would sneak in to compensate for their mother’s bland cooking.
“I never pass on a chance to clog my arteries.” She sipped the diet soda she’d ordered before Hunter arrived, and wondered if Alec would ever cross this diner’s threshold. She smothered a smile as she imagined his horrified response to the gargantuan portions. “So what’s up? You rarely have time to meet me midweek.”
“Two things.” He clasped his hands together on the table, officious as always. “First, I’m sorry for reacting so badly to your news last week. I love you and Alec. You just caught me off guard. I still think you’ve created a tricky situation for yourselves at the restaurant, but from a purely personal perspective, I hope it works out.”
“Thanks.” Colby couldn’t resist teasing. “Now tell the truth. Did Sara put you up to that apology?”
“No.” He didn’t crack a smile. Too bad, because his stony face could really benefit from a few more smiles. Maybe she should start sending him funny videos. “Sara’s got only one focus these days, and that’s a whole other issue. One I don’t have patience for now that Jenna’s talking Dad into selling the company.”
“What?” Colby leaned forward, stunned. So stunned, she temporarily lost interest in Sara. “Why would Dad ever consider selling CTC?”
“Jenna’s heard a rumor that Pure Foods might be interested in buying CTC.” Hunter shook his head. “Honestly, I laughed at first, never imagining Dad might consider selling. But Jenna’s got his ear, and even if Pure Foods doesn’t make a play, she seems to want to go hunting for a buyer.”
The waitress, Donna, interrupted them. Her grease-stained apron looked almost as ragged as she did. They ordered their usual bacon cheeseburgers with a side of onion rings. “Have you spoken to Dad?”
“Not yet. That’s probably a good thing, though, ’cause I’m pissed as hell. I’ve given the last eleven years of my life to that place, believing I’d be running it all in the future. It’s our damn legacy. Now Jenna’s pushing him to sell out? How many more purses, cars, and kitchens does that witch need?”
“Hunter, lower your voice.” She glanced over her shoulder to see if any of Jenna’s friends were present. A dumb reflex, because Jenna’s friends wouldn’t eat here.
“I’m serious, Colby. If we sell CTC, you’ll be sitting pretty, with enough money to buy out of the restaurant and go on as you wish. But that business is my future. My kids’ future.” He paused then, as if the significance of those words had slapped him on the cheek. Colby’s heart ached in response to his and Sara’s baby blues. Hunter shook his head to reclaim his train of thought. “I’m not saying Jenna hasn’t been a part of CTC’s growth, but what the hell? Dad always promised me we would run it together. It would be ours.”
Now Sara’s mood the other night made more sense. Hunter had probably been a bear lately, not that she blamed him. Her father had promised him that future. She’d heard it over and over from the age of ten. Hunter had also forgone Wall Street job offers, relying on that promise.
No wonder he was freaking out. All this stress over a rumor, proving the wisdom of her decision to withhold Gentry’s gossip about the reviewer from Alec.
She grabbed her brother’s hands and squeezed them reassuringly. “Dad can’t unilaterally sell it. We all own shares.”
“He’s the tiebreaker.” Hunter pulled his hands away and raked one through his hair. “Thanks to Dad’s estate planner, you, Gentry, Jenna, and I all own a majority of the stock in equal shares, but Dad retains that swing vote.”
“Don’t be so sure that Gentry will vote with Jenna. There’s a lot of animosity there.” Even as she said it, she regretted it. While she had no love lost for Jenna, she didn’t want Gentry to become a pawn in Hunter’s chess match.
“Oh, come on. Gentry would love a big fat check.” Hunter rolled his eyes. “She’s not interested in working there or taking pride in its growth. Trust me, she’ll sell out in a heartbeat.”
“I’ve seen another side to her lately. Underneath all that attitude she’s yearning for a place in this family. If you go to her and honestly tell her what you’ve told me, she might not cash out. Then we can block a sale.”
“So I can count on you to stand with me if it comes to that?” The intensity of his gaze could be so unnerving she’d hate to be on the opposing side.
“Of course. I know how important this is to you. I don’t want to work there, but maybe someday my future kids would want to.” She managed to smile, even as the very notion of her future kids sort of rocked her. “You can count on me.”
“Even if it means going up against Dad?” He cocked his head, assessing her ability to stomach conflict so keenly it might as well have been a strip search.
“Yes.” She’d never not back Hunter, the one and only member of her family who’d never abandoned, manipulated, or disappointed her. They might not always see eye to eye, but he always had her back.
“Thanks.” Hunter sighed and stretched deeper into the booth, loosening his collar before sucking down some ginger ale. “So how’s this foundation going? I couldn’t believe you involved Mom.”
“It’s only been ten days, but so far, so good.” Colby knocked on the wood frame of the booth. “Mom and Mrs. Morgan have already received auction donations from several local retailers. Gentry’s on top of outreach. Alec planned a nice menu. Sara has everything set up on QuickBooks. And I’m sending out the invitations.”
“Mom and Gentry.” Hunter shook his head. “I can’t imagine either of them carrying their weight.”
“I don’t know about Mom, because Mrs. Morgan would never speak ill of her, but Gentry might surprise you. She’s actually pretty good at this PR stuff. She lives on social media, and she’s funny and fresh. Honestly, I think she’s got a ton of potential, if she could lose the chip on her shoulder.”
“What’s the deal with that? Who has an easier life than her?” He bugged his eyes. “I don’t get all the anger.”
“I know you think Mom is clingy, but at least she was present for big and small milestones, and took us on fun adventures. Gentry had nannies. Maybe Gentry envied our ‘normal’ life.”
“In high school, my summers were spent working at CTC. Hers consisted of pool parties and shopping sprees.” He grimaced. “I doubt she’s envious.”
“We had each other, but she was more or less an only child over there. I think she’s jealous of our relationship.” She forced Hunter to acknowledge her point. “You and I need to do better by our sister. I worry that her life could run off track. We need to keep her busy and involved.”
For the second time, he stared at her, his brain working overtime.
“Colby.” He sighed. “I know no matter how often I say otherwise, you’ll always feel like you failed Mark. But you can’t save people. People have to save themselves. Mark, Gentry, whomever. Don’t run yourself ragged trying to prevent people from making bad choices.”
Hunter’s words bothered her, but before she could respond, their burgers came. The mammoth sandwich and heaping pile of breaded onion rings almost made her troubles disappear. Alec’s food may be beautiful and complex, but for Colby, little could beat diner food. Her mouth watered in anticipation of that first bite.
As if reading her mind, Hunter snickered. “I know. Alec and Sara would be horrified, but this is the bomb.”
Now that they’d moved away from discussing the CTC situation, Colby decided to probe about Sara.
“So tell me, how can I help with Sara?”
“I don’t know. I get that she’s thirty-four and getting nervous about the kid thing, but it’s become an obsession. Her quitting work has only made it worse, as I’d predicted. She was insistent that less stress would make getting pregnant easier, but she’s only become more stressed, and more needy. She forgets how tiring the workday can be. My only downtime now is my morning bike ride. She’s bored at home and needs stuff from me that she never needed before. If she doesn’t get pregnant with the next IVF round, I don’t know what she’ll do.” He frowned and bit into his burger. He didn’t sound angry, just confused, depressed, and maybe a little powerless. That probably bothered him most of all, because one thing Hunter had never been in his entire life was powerless.
“I’m sorry.”
“We’re waiting another month to start the shots, then it’ll be a few weeks until harvest and implantation. I hope it works. I really do. I hate seeing her depressed, but with this new threat at work, I don’t have time to hand-hold.”
“Well, when it comes time for shots and the posttransfer bed rest, ask Mom to help.”
“Oh God!” He shook his head. “Mom?”
“Mom’s happiest when she feels needed. She’d love for you to need her for anything, Hunter. I swear, just ask and you’ll see. She’ll keep Sara company and take care of her, so you’ll have more time to focus on work.” Colby savored a greasy onion ring. Heaven.
“Maybe you’re right. Sara likes Mom, and I’m going to need to stick closer to the office in order to fend off Jenna’s attempt to sell my birthright.”
Colby thought about the situation with Gentry and about her dad’s age and health. “I’m not defending Jenna, but do you think she might want to sell because she wants Dad to slow down? He hasn’t looked so good lately. Have you noticed? Perspiration, exhaustion, and his knees have been bothering him.”
“He’s never said anything to me.” Hunter shrugged, although a hint of concern edged his features. Like a typical guy faced with the idea of a nonemergency medical issue, he then waved his hand dismissively. “I’m sure he’s fine.”
“Men.” Mark had never followed doctors’ orders. Of course, her father was nothing like Mark. “Would you like me to talk to Dad about this sale?”
“I’m not above offering you anything you want if you can convince him to ignore Jenna.” He smiled, and she knew he was mostly teasing. “Let’s change the subject so I don’t get heartburn. So . . . Alec. When we were young, I thought you might end up with Joe. Then you brought Mark home. But Alec? Never saw that coming. Of course, he’s the best of the lot.”
Not to mention the only one alive. That fact made her a little heartsick.
“Guess I had to grow up before I could appreciate him.” She set her chin on her fist, thinking about the fresh tulips he left on her desk each Wednesday. “I wish his father weren’t so bitter, though.”
She’d been letting herself daydream a little about what her future could look like with Alec, but his father could come between them. So could the business matters they didn’t agree upon and his inability to fully control that temper. She wouldn’t rush into any relationship again like she’d done before, so she kept her daydreams to herself.
“Frank Morgan has always been hard on him. For a while I thought Alec had stopped caring about that. But since Joe died, he seems determined to forge some relationship with his dad.”
Colby didn’t mention Alec and Joe’s fight or Alec’s guilty conscience. “When you lose someone close, you want to hold on extra tight to anyone who’s left. I get why Alec wants to fix his broken family. I only wish I could help.”
He reached across the table and tugged at her hair. “You’re always the cement that binds people. Eventually, you’ll find a way to help. That much I know.”
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me in ages.” She smiled and stole the last onion ring from his plate.
“I’ll try to sneak in another compliment before Christmas.” He smirked, looking much more at ease than when he arrived. “I’d better get back to the office. Let me know if I can do anything for this fund-raiser. I’ve got a lot of people who owe me favors, so we can lean on them for donations.”
“Send me the list!”
Hunter threw down forty bucks. “Lunch is on me. Thanks for listening and for the advice. I’ll talk to Sara about having Mom help, and I’ll think about how to reach out to Gentry.”
She mockingly placed a hand on her chest. “See, deep down beneath that cold, all-business exterior, you have a good heart.”
“Don’t tell a soul!” He winked and walked out the door.
“Why are you waking me at this ungodly hour?” Alec murmured when Colby tried waking him for the third time. “It’s Monday, our sleep-in day.”
“I have a surprise.” She kissed his shoulder. He was half-tempted to pull her into bed again, but exhaustion won out.
“It’s five thirty,” he griped, eyes still closed, defiantly not a morning person.
“Hurry.” She drew back the blankets, showing no mercy. “We’ve got to be there by six thirty.”
“Be where?” One eye popped open.
“Get up if you want to find out. Throw on some layers because it may be chilly.”
“I need a shower.” He propped up on his elbows, moving at the speed of molasses.
“No time.” She grabbed his wrist and tugged. “Let’s go, sleepyhead.”
Alec groaned but got out of bed and washed his face. He slipped into jeans and a jersey and grabbed his jacket. “Is this okay?”
“It should be.” She clasped his hand and raced to his car. Twenty minutes later, they arrived at an open field where he spied a seventy-foot-long multicolored balloon. It lay spread out on the ground while a crew pulled out the wrinkles and dealt with the other equipment.
“Are you surprised?” Colby clapped her hands together and bounced on her toes. “I thought we’d start our bucket-list adventures with a hot-air balloon ride.”
“I can’t believe you planned this behind my back.” He lifted her off her feet and kissed her, consumed with joy that she’d finally done something whimsical and fun for herself.
“Just a few weeks ago, it wouldn’t have occurred to me. I’d been locked in a place of grief and regret for so long, just hoping that a career change would somehow jolt me forward. When Hunter hired you, I worried it would set me back. Instead, you’ve pulled me through. Thanks to your support, I’m feeling more and more like myself. Like maybe I deserve to be happy again. And that even after my mistakes and so much sorrow for both our families, there is hope and forgiveness. So this is partly for you, too. A thank-you for helping me rediscover myself.”
“I’m touched.” He kissed her again. “And happy for this gorgeous morning, too.”
It took roughly thirty minutes for the crew to inflate the balloon and right the basket. Once he and Colby climbed over its side to join the pilot in the basket, she clutched his arm and whispered, “I’m a little nervous.”
When the ropes were released, the balloon lifted into the air. Not with a jerk, as he’d expected. It simply floated upward, as if gravity no longer existed. A singular experience, reinforced by Colby’s delighted giggle.
She’d positioned herself in one corner, clutching a rope and looking over the edge as they climbed higher into the sky. Aside from an occasional instruction, the pilot focused on his job and left them alone.
The sunrise bathed the earth beneath them in swaths of warm golden light. Colby’s nose and cheeks were pink; her eyes twinkled. Seeing her awed made Alec feel like a king because she wouldn’t have planned this without his encouragement.
“I feel like a bird.” She surveyed the miles and miles of countryside. “My heart’s racing. I wonder if this is how Mark and Joe felt on all of their adventures.”
“They were fearless,” Alec admitted. Both men had other traits he hadn’t respected, but they were brave.
“Mark feared things, but he pushed through it. I usually liked that about him.” Her wistful tone reawakened the remorse he’d suppressed. The letter. The damned letter he wished he’d never opened. Guilt filled his lungs like the hot air inflating the nylon balloon.
Alec didn’t want to share this experience with Mark or Joe. This moment was his and Colby’s. He wanted to be the only man with her as she rediscovered herself and embraced excitement, life, and even love. His love. God, he wanted her to love him.
He stepped closer and pulled her back to his chest, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this experience as much as you’d hoped.”
“And I’m glad I’m sharing it with you.” She settled her head on his shoulder and continued observing the scenery while he kept a tight hold on her.
“It’s so quiet,” he said after several minutes spent drifting across the sky.
“Dead quiet,” she agreed. “Except for when the pilot turns on the gas.”
“The whole world looks different from up here. Reminds me that life is full of infinite possibilities.”
She turned her face toward his, wearing a broad smile. “‘Infinite possibilities’ sounds great. Do you forgive me for forcing you out of bed so early on our day off?”
He chuckled and kissed her. “Yes, although I hope not all of our adventures will require predawn departures.”
They drifted along for forty minutes, occasionally speaking with the pilot, until he glided them to a fairly smooth landing. The basket butted against the ground once or twice before the crew members waiting for them got involved.
After settling the bill, they climbed into the SUV to catch a ride back to where they’d originally parked. Once they parted from the crew, she hugged him. “I love that we did that. Next we should work on that Adam Levine wish.”
He jokingly frowned. “If he weren’t married, I might get jealous of your infatuation.”
She chuckled. “I’m still a teenager at heart when it comes to rock stars.”
Alec mockingly grabbed his chest as if stricken, and she kissed him and got in the car.
A mile or two later, she pointed at a run-down diner. “Let’s grab breakfast here. We can talk about the foundation.”
Sketchy diner aside, he’d rather go home and laze around on their day off, but they had too much to do. He repressed a shudder at the thick film on the diner floor and led Colby to a booth in the rear of the restaurant. “I can’t believe how much you’ve accomplished already.”
Colby snorted. “Your mom’s a force of nature! I’m surprised your dad hasn’t complained about all the time she’s put into planning the party.”
So was Alec. In fact, he suspected his dad didn’t know. “She’s committed. It makes her feel closer to Joe.”
“It was an inspired idea, yet you shy away from taking credit and a more prominent role.” She then wrinkled her nose and teased, “Quite a change from the egomaniac who runs the kitchen.”
“I’ve been restraining myself somewhat and doling out praise like you asked.” He couldn’t help himself and added, “Honestly, they’d be further along if you let me handle them my way.”
“Without any encouragement I think they’d all quit to avoid those times when the whole restaurant feels like an earthquake zone.” She paused. “You sort of become like your dad when you’re in the kitchen.”
That was not a compliment, and he knew it. “My job is to require perfection.”
“It’s not your job to demean the other cooks.” She pressed her lips together in what he guessed was an attempt to stave off more lectures.
“I’m not demeaning, just demanding.” He frowned. “Have they complained?”
“No, but given our relationship, I doubt they’d feel comfortable coming to me now.”
“My style may be exhausting, but you’ll all be proud when we win awards.”
Instead of beaming, Colby fidgeted with the saltshaker. She did this—sighed and averted her gaze—whenever she was gearing up to say something he wouldn’t appreciate. The anticipation only heightened his anxiety.
“I wish you believed that we could be happy and create a restaurant people love even if A CertainTea never earns a single award. That adding a couple of normal options on the menu wouldn’t ruin the restaurant. Gab-n-Eat is a town favorite, and it’s far from perfect.” Colby stared at him, her eyes filling with concern. “When you flip out over wilted chiffonade, I worry that you can’t be happy without an award.”
Acclaim wasn’t a goal he was willing to concede. “I’ve lived and breathed this industry my entire adult life. Paid my dues in ways you can’t conceive. Earned a reputation people dream of, only to have lost it. I’m not in this for ‘happiness,’ Colby. I’m in this because it means something to me. It defines me. Being the best at it is my goal, and I’ll give it everything I have. I’d think you’d like that about me, considering how assertive Mark was.”
Colby sat back as the waitress brought her short stack of blueberry pancakes and Alec’s coffee—bitter coffee that had obviously been burning in an old pot. Meanwhile, Colby merely pushed her fork at the short stack rather than attack it like he’d expected.
“What’s wrong?”
Colby looked up. “I don’t want to re-create my relationship with Mark. And I certainly don’t want you to emulate him.”
“What do you want?” To date, most of their time and effort revolved around work and the foundation. She’d hardly confided anything personal. He had no clue of the depth of her commitment to him, if any, even as he continued to put his career and family on the line for her.
“I want peace.”
“Doesn’t the fact that I’m on top of things at work give you peace of mind about your investment?” He leaned forward, trying to read her thoughts. “I’ve made compromises for you, but don’t ask me to give up my dreams, Colby.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” She looked around as if the words she needed would pop out from behind another booth. The only thing she’d likely find behind a booth in this joint was a cockroach. “There are lots of things that define you, Alec, not just this job. When you think your entire worth rests on being ‘the best,’ I worry that this quest for perfection is actually some way of proving something to your dad. If his opinion never changes, can you accept that?”
She looked sincerely concerned, so he shouldn’t be insulted. He shouldn’t be, but he was. Perhaps his dad’s respect played some role in that goal, but it wasn’t the only one, and he didn’t need her psychoanalyzing him, either.
He held up his scarred hands. “You think I’ve spent the last fifteen years earning these scars just to win my dad’s love?”
“I know it’s not that simple. I’m just wondering . . . wishing your dreams . . .” Her voice trailed off. She raked her hands through her hair and shook her head as if she could shake away her doubts. “Never mind. If you need awards to feel successful, then I’ll do whatever I can to help you get them.”
“Don’t diminish those awards. Athletes train for the Olympics to win medals. Actors vie for Oscar nods. Musicians yearn for Grammys. I earned that James Beard Award, and it was as important in my profession as any of those others.”
“This is all coming out wrong. I only want you to be happy.” Her voice dropped. “You got so depressed after losing Une Bouchée . . . you took off for months.”
“I was depressed, but not just because of the restaurant. It was everything with Joe.” He stopped talking before Mark’s name fell from his mouth.
“I’ve been reading about chefs who get obsessed with their ratings, like Chef Violier or the old speculation surrounding Chef Loiseau . . .”
“Suicide?” He scoffed without thinking. When her eyes got misty, he felt like a shit. Suicide would never be outside the realm of possibility in her mind. Softening his tone, he said, “Colby, I’m not them, or Mark. I swear I’d never do that. Not to you or my mother.”
“Let’s drop it, okay.” She smiled weakly and poured a pint of syrup on her plate. She smothered her pancakes in butter and sliced them into uniform, bite-size pieces. Despite the bacon she inhaled and strawberry she dipped in her syrup—normal behavior for her—he saw her retreating. Felt a distance that hadn’t been there earlier.
Reaching across the table, he clasped her hand in his and squeezed. “Remember, in the balloon, we talked about unlimited possibilities? That’s what we can have. I want recognition, I want my family to be happier again, and I want you. I’m going to make all three of those things happen. And as long as you’re by my side, everything is possible.”
She sucked down her orange juice before responding. “Everything except for my ideas about the menu, right? I still think we could introduce one or two new menu items for the common palate. For people like me, who like burgers and bacon.”
Burgers and bacon? Good God, how did she expect him to make that work? If A CertainTea were his, he wouldn’t have to entertain this discussion. Wishful thinking didn’t help, though. It wasn’t his restaurant. It was hers, which meant he couldn’t ignore her wishes.
“Alec?”
Her voice yanked him back to the filthy diner, where she, oddly, looked perfectly comfortable. “I’ll give some thought to an item or two that aren’t strictly haute cuisine.”
A grateful syrup-glossed smile stretched across her face. “You’ll see. People will love that!”
In that moment, he didn’t care about what other people loved. Only that she might come to love him.