Nicole
I toss the tomato chunks into a bowl, and then I place a cucumber on the cutting board and slice it into thin medallions. Looking at this cucumber, I can't help but think about Palmer's huge, thick… no, stop that Nicole, get your head out of the gutter.
I need to focus on the restaurant... the food… my staff... staying afloat.
I can't get distracted. Not now.
Because, if I don’t focus, then I’ll end up thinking about him. Because if I'm being honest with myself, I'm falling for Palmer.
There, I said it. I'm falling for that man.
I can't go a single minute without him being in some corner of my mind—his smile, his touch, something funny he said, the way he makes me feel, or even the way he cooks his food.
It's ridiculous. Palmer's presence in this city might mean the end of my restaurant, but somehow, that doesn't stop me from falling for him.
He could literally put me out of business, and every day I see the signs—raising rents, fancy cars, a new clientele—but as each day goes by, I want him more.
How is that even possible?
The good seems to outweigh the bad.
I look up at the ceiling and give a silent apology to my grandmother. I'm sure she's rolling over in her grave right now.
I'm sorry, nana. I feel like I'm letting you down. You gave me my love for cooking and you believed in me. You envisioned me going far, and here I am, throwing it way for a man that I'm falling head over heels for.
But this man has so many positives.
He's incredible with my family, and they love him. He's charming, and funny, and gracious—and he had my mom and dad in tears with laughter. He even helped peel potatoes, of all things.
He completely won them over.
"OUCH!" I hiss, looking down at my finger. I sliced right into it, and a red bloom appears on the tip.
I run over to the sink and hold the cut under cold, running water. At least it's not deep enough to warrant stitches. I reach for a band aid and wrap it tightly around my finger. Then, for extra precaution, I place a latex glove over it.
"That looks deep," a voice says from behind me, and I jump. Literally, it feels like my feet have come five inches off the ground.
I swing round to see who it is, and find the pale face of Percy Whitman.
How long has he been standing there? Was he there long enough to hear me pour my heart out to my dead grandmother?
"You scared me," I say. "I didn't expect to see you back here."
"I have some great news," he says beaming. He's bouncing on the balls of his feet; he's so excited.
"I could use some good news today," I say, looking around the restaurant and still nursing my finger. "Some days, it feels like I'm drowning here."
"Remember The Pearl on Park restaurant that we talked about? And how you've been so worried about it?"
How could I not? But Percy doesn't know this. No one knows that Palmer and I have been spending time together.
He could never understand how much Palmer and his restaurant has been on my mind.
I shrug, trying to play it casual. I can't let Percy read my emotions. "Sure, what about it?"
"I've just learned that Chef Palmer's investors are backing out after all of the bad reviews he's received."
"Wait, what? You mean Palmer's restaurants are in trouble?" I say.
"You got it—exciting, right? Now you don't have to worry about your future in this city," Percy says, clapping his hands together.
My heart sinks, and my stomach spins the same somersaults I spun as an 8 year old in gymnastics class.
"You really think he's going to shut down?"
"It's a good possibility that he'll have to close The Pearl on Park, from what I can tell. That's the word on the street anyways."
"Wow, that's, uh—"
"That's big news, I know," Percy says, cutting me off. "I was so excited that I had to come over right away and let you know."
"I don't even know what to say."
"I know… you're too excited for words," Percy smiles, petting my arm. There's something about his touch that makes me recoil.
He thinks he's doing me a favor by writing all of these terrible reviews, and helping to shut Palmer down, but now I just feel sick.
"I have to run," he says, giving me another pat on the arm. "But we'll talk again soon."
I watch as he walks out of the restaurant and I feel dizzy; my entire body is churning with emotions.
I'm so conflicted about this whole thing. And now, I feel guilty.
I'm the reason why Percy went after Palmer in the first place. And this guilt feels like a shadow that's following me and pressing on my shoulders. Just knowing that I've hurt Palmer is a huge, black weight on my conscience.
This isn't who I am. I can't let this happen.
I'll never be able to live with myself if Palmer loses his restaurant. And the fact that he didn't tell me… must mean he's been carrying the weight of this knowledge and didn't want to burden me with it.
I have to fix this. I have to find Palmer and explain my guilt to him.
He may hate me, and he may never forgive me… but I have to do it, even if it means losing the best man I've ever had.
But maybe I can convince Percy to help me.
Love’s more important than business, right?