Wednesdays were typically the slowest nights of the week, and Jaylyn expected this night to be like every other week. The kitchen was staffed lighter tonight, and the dining room was only about half full. She let the subject drop about her dad needing to get to the doctor and focused on running a great kitchen. If his illness grew too serious, she could only hope her mom would drag his ass to the hospital and be done with it.

“Right, I’m taking a break,” she announced, tossing the towel from her shoulder into the dirty bin. “Frankie. You’re in charge.”

He saluted her and handed his spatula to another cook as he took over Jaylyn’s spot, reading new tickets. Whenever Darien made her officially the owner, she couldn’t spend all her time in the kitchen as head chef. Frankie was the best candidate for taking over. He knew how she expected dishes to come out of the kitchen, knew her recipes as well as she did, and knew how to keep a cool head when things went to shit. If ever that day came, she’d be ready with Frankie by her side.

She sat down at the bar and ordered a pop to enjoy for a few minutes. The regulars waved to her and she smiled back. Her parents sat at their usual table. She wanted to join them, but their faces were both set and they appeared to be having a rather heated discussion. It wasn’t like them to get so riled up while at the restaurant, but they weren’t yelling. She wondered what the problem could be and her mind drifted to the suited men she saw at the mall and a phone call she’d received a few days ago.

Hannah had called her saying a man who claimed to merely be visiting had popped into the bar. She claimed he was one of the suits she saw walking around the other day, but Jaylyn told her not to assume anything yet. For all they knew, he was simply passing through—though passing through to where was the better question.

As Jaylyn drank her pop, she saw the doors open and a man bustled in with a very intent look on his face. He whispered to the hostess, and she frowned, shaking her head. The man held up a stack of papers, shaking them in her face. Jaylyn hopped off her stool and hurried to the man.

“Can I help you?” she asked, crossing her arms and glaring at him.

“I am looking for Mr. Darien Wilson,” he snapped.

“And you needed to yell at my hostess for what reason?”

He huffed. “She told me Mr. Wilson does not see anyone except customers during business hours.”

“She’s not wrong. Mr. Wilson will see you if you call and make an appointment.”

“He’s not a CEO! It shouldn’t be this difficult to speak to him.” The man tried to see around Jaylyn, but she kept moving, blocking his sight. “I must speak with him. It’s urgent business.”

“Involving what?”

“His business.”

Jaylyn’s chest tightened. “And? Give me something specific or I’ll throw you out of here for disrupting our guests.”

“They are no longer your guests,” the man seethed.

Jaylyn started to laugh, not sure what the man was playing at, but he shook the papers in his hand. “What are you saying?”

“Exactly what you think I’m saying. Where is he?”

Jaylyn’s thumbnail dug into her palm, but she pointed back to her parents’ table. “I’ll take you to him,” she said slowly and led the way through the tables, putting a smile on her face for the sake of the people enjoying their dinners. “Dad? This man says he needs to talk to you about the restaurant.”

Darien stood. “Darien Wilson,” he said, holding out his hand. The man shook it. “What can I do for you, Mister…”

“Ullie, Gregory Ullie,” the man said. “I’m afraid it’s regarding your loan.”

“My loan? You’re not from the bank,” Darien said, confused.

“No, I represent the people who currently possess your loan—all of your loans.”

Darien’s face paled and Mariah was on her feet, too. “Jaylyn, go back to the kitchen, please,” Darien instructed. “I’m sure Frankie probably needs you by now.”

“Dad, what’s going on?” she asked, but he didn’t even look at her.

“Now, please.”

She shot the man one more annoyed look but did as her dad asked, though she hated walking away. She hung around near the doorway of the kitchen, but they were speaking too quietly for her to hear over the din of the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” Frankie asked in her ear, and she jumped, smacking him in the arm.

“Why do you keep trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Because it’s so easy. Why are you eavesdropping at your own kitchen door?” He looked over her head out the circular window. “Who’s with Darien?”

“Some asshole who said something about the restaurant not being ours anymore.”

“What?”

“I don’t know, it’s just what he said. That and something about the loans.” She shook her head and moved away from the door when her mom glanced over. “I don’t like this, and he kicked me back to the kitchen.”

“You want me to go out there and sit at the bar? Just glare at the guy?”

“Yes, but not now,” she muttered. “I guess we’ll get back to work and Dad will fill me in later.”

They pushed through the dinner and the minor rush they had at the end of the evening. Jaylyn threw herself into her work, calling out tickets and keeping her hands busy so she wouldn’t dig her thumb into her palm and get another lecture from Frankie. By the time the last ticket went out, she was mentally drained and worried because she hadn’t seen her parents at all. Frankie shooed her away to go figure out what was happening, letting her team handle the cleanup.

She pushed through the doors, surprised to see her parents at the bar with drinks in their hands instead of at their table. “What’s going on?” she asked, looking around for the man.

“Sit down, Lyn,” Darien said, patting the empty seat beside him.

Jaylyn didn’t move. “No. Tell me what’s going on.”

Darien glanced at his wife and she nodded. He slid the stack of papers down the bar, and Jaylyn picked them up with a shaking hand. “You remember this restaurant was originally part of the old lodge?” he asked and she bobbed her head. “Someone has decided to purchase the lodge and all the surrounding property.”

“But they can’t buy the restaurant,” she argued. “It’s not for sale.”

“No, but we don’t own it outright. We have loans, and the Allard Investment Firm has purchased our loans in order to reopen the lodge and include our restaurant as part of it.”

Jaylyn skimmed through the pages, but the legal lingo only pissed her off. “I don’t understand. What does this mean for us? Are we still open? Is it still our place?” she rambled, her heart pounding and her palms sweaty.

“We don’t know yet,” Darien admitted roughly. “We’re not sure what’s going to happen.”

“What…what do we do? Can’t we fight this?”

“With what money?” he asked hotly, sucking in a deep breath when she flinched. “I’m sorry, but we know as much as you do right now.”

She sank onto a stool. “What do I tell my crew?”

“You tell them nothing,” he said sharply. “I don’t want morale to tank.”

“They have a right to know if they’re going to lose their jobs.”

Darien stood, taking the papers with him. “The lawyer assured us the Allards will do their best to keep as many jobs as possible.”

“And you trust them?”

“No, but we don’t have another choice. If you tell people now, they might quit anyway and then what will we do? You keep this to yourself, Lyn. Do you under…underst—” his harsh coughing cut off his words, and he shoved a handkerchief to his mouth, pushing away from her and Mariah as he disappeared down the short hall to the office.

Mariah sighed and Jaylyn was at a loss. “He’s under a lot of stress right now.”

“Because he’s sick and won’t admit it,” she muttered.

“You don’t understand what he’s going through,” Mariah said roughly. “Let it go for now, Lyn. We’ll deal with this how we’ve dealt with everything, but don’t add to his stress by demanding answers from him.”

“You can’t simply expect me to carry on as if nothing is happening,” she said as her mom walked away. “Mom?”

“Let it go. Clean up the kitchen and get home. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jaylyn had been dismissed by both parents. She stayed at the bar for a long while, watching the last few customers leave. She smiled and waved at them, though inside, she screamed and wanted to pull her hair out. Not knowing what could happen in the next few weeks or days would drive her nuts. What was she supposed to tell Frankie? She couldn’t leave him in the dark, not when his job might be on the line.

She poked her head through the kitchen door and called for Frankie to meet her outside when he had a minute. He said he’d be right there, eyeing her curiously. Jaylyn wouldn’t tell anyone else, but Frankie had to know.

“Jaylyn?”

She stopped her mad pacing long enough to look at him, then away, too full of guilt to hold his gaze long. Not that she had anything to feel guilty about. She wanted to fight for her crew and for the restaurant. What she didn’t understand was why her parents acted like they had already lost?

“We have a problem,” she said finally. “You can’t tell anyone else. I’m not supposed to tell you, but I can’t not let you know.”

“All right, I’m listening,” he said slowly.

“That man who came in? He told Dad we no longer own the restaurant.” She rambled on about what she was told by her parents and what she thought the paperwork basically said. Frankie’s expression never changed and he let her come to an end before he even moved. “Well?”

“Well what?” he asked.

“Aren’t you going to get mad? Threaten to quit? Do something besides standing there looking at me like this is not a huge deal?”

Frankie scratched the tip of his nose, shrugging his massive shoulders. “What good will that do?”

Jaylyn’s mouth fell open. “Seriously?”

He held her shoulders and bent so they were eye level. “Yeah, seriously. You said it yourself, you’re not sure what’s going to happen. I’m not going to freak out until I need to and I’m definitely not going to quit and leave you alone for however many days we have left. We’re in this together until whatever shitty end comes our way.”

Her head fell forward. “I don’t deserve you as a friend.”

“Ha, ain’t that the truth.”

He guided her back inside, an arm over her shoulders, and they grabbed beers from the bar before heading back to the kitchen to finish cleaning up. Jaylyn embraced his light-hearted mood, at least until she drove home a couple hours later. She lay in bed, wide awake, wondering if her dream was about to go up in flames.

* * *

A week passed and the situation involving the ownership of the restaurant only made the tension between Jaylyn and her parents worse by the day. Mariah was a bit more talkative, but Darien made sure not to find himself alone with her. She snooped around the office at the restaurant but found no sign of the papers. She tried at home, too, but Darien hid them and she’d grunted in annoyance as she stormed to her room that morning. There’d been no sign of that lawyer, either. She should take it as a good sign, but her gut told her the worst was yet to come.

Sunday morning, after she’d spent an anxious week biting what little nails she had, Darien left a note for her in the kitchen to head to the restaurant early. When she arrived, the entire staff was there, sitting in the dining room and looking confused as hell.

“What’s going on?” she asked her mom when she saw her by the bar.

“Just have a seat,” Mariah said, smiling, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Mom?”

“Good,” Darien said before Mariah spoke again, and Jaylyn turned. Her dad stepped out of the kitchen with two men flanking him. One she recognized as the lawyer who’d dropped off the papers. The other wasn’t familiar. “If everyone can have a seat?”

Jaylyn didn’t want to sit down, but Mariah glared at her so she found Frankie towards the back of the room and sat beside him. “Any ideas?” he asked out of the side of his mouth.

“One, and it’s not good.” Darien shot them a look, and she held his glare with one of her own.

“These two men are here to help explain a new transition about to take place here at Jaybird’s Roost. Please, listen to what they have to say.”

Darien stepped back and the lawyer and the other man stepped up. The one Jaylyn didn’t know was attractive in a weird, older man kind of way with the greying hair at his temples and his black-rimmed glasses he removed as he observed the gathered employees.

“I had hoped my son would be present today since this is currently his project,” the man started. “However, as he couldn’t be here, I will be more than happy to explain the situation. My name is Leo Allard. I have recently taken over ownership of the lodge property this restaurant sits on, as well as the restaurant itself.”

A few whispered murmurs sounded throughout the room, but the man didn’t stop to hear them.

“One of those changes is that we will hire new staff members for the lodge…and replace the jobs here at the restaurant.”

“What?” Jaylyn snapped loudly, jumping to her feet.

Darien looked as shocked as she felt. “I’m sorry, Mr. Allard, that wasn’t what we discussed a few days ago,” he argued. “You can’t simply fire everyone here.”

“You’ll find that I can and am doing just that,” Mr. Allard said in his haughty, British accent. “As of today, none of you work here. You will be compensated for the remainder of the month, but after that, you will have to find employment elsewhere.”

“There’s barely two weeks left in the month,” Jaylyn pointed out furiously.

“Yes, I understand that.” His scowl held no sympathy, only annoyance at the interruption. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Jaylyn Wilson, the head chef and the one who’s come up with the recipes for this kitchen for the past two years.” She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin with pride. “I’m the reason we’ve made a profit.”

Mr. Allard clasped his hands behind his back. “A bit full of ourselves, are we? All chefs are.”

Jaylyn’s mouth fell open, and Frankie was on his feet beside her. “Now one damn minute, sir. She’s not just saying it to say it. It’s true. You get rid of Jaylyn and this place will never do as well again.”

“I’ll take my chances. I will not have a chef in my kitchen who isn’t loyal to me.”

“You think I would ruin this place because I don’t like you?” She marched towards him and stopped a few inches short, glaring up into his face. “Now who thinks he’s all important? This is my father’s place and mine. Y’all can’t walk in here and take it away from us without a fight.”

“Lyn, stop,” Darien whispered behind her.

“No, he can’t do this! We’ll come up with a plan—any plan,” she replied, but he shook his head and started to cough. He clutched his chest as the fit continued, and Mariah handed him a handkerchief. He bent over double, and Jaylyn rushed to his side when he collapsed to the floor. “Dad?”

“Fine,” he gasped. “Fine…we have to…have to let it go.”

Jaylyn blinked back tears of rage and fear as Darien continued to cough. “Someone call an ambulance!”

Frankie said he was on it and drew out his cell. Mr. Allard stood close by but offered no sympathy, nothing but a cold-hearted stare when Jaylyn and Mariah helped Darien to a chair. He moved farther into the room and told the employees to clear out their items, but if they stole anything, he would know, having taken inventory that morning. Jaylyn suddenly saw red. He was in the midst of another sentence when she tapped him on the shoulder and punched him square in the jaw. She cursed, holding her hand and hopping at the pain blooming in her fingers, but the red mark on Mr. Allard’s jaw as he staggered backwards and the shock in his eyes was worth it.

“I could press charges!” he seethed, holding his face.

“Then do it. What the hell do I care?”

He grunted at her but said nothing else as he stormed out the front door.

The ambulance arrived moments later and took a protesting Darien away. “For once, Darien, shut up,” Mariah snapped at her husband. “You’re going and it’s final. Jaylyn, lock up and meet us there.”

Mariah tossed her the keys and Jaylyn watched them load her father up and take him away.

“He’s strong, your dad,” Frankie said, standing beside her.

“Yeah…yeah, he used to be.”

She heard his sigh but didn’t look at him. “I’ll help everyone get their things together and you can lock up.”

She mumbled some thanks, and he gathered everyone around to clear out their employee lockers and anything else they didn’t want thrown out when they left. Jaylyn stood at the front door, praying her dad would be all right. She only had an inkling of what might be wrong, but her parents never let her know what he was sick with or how bad it really was. She let herself play the naïve daughter and pretend Darien would be all right. Reality was harsher still, knowing they were losing the restaurant.

Once everyone was packed and gone, she locked the front door for what might be the last time. Frankie walked her to her truck and offered to drive her to the hospital in Laconia, the closest major hospital, but she said she’d be fine.

“Text me when you get there, at least,” he pleaded. “Hannah and I will be waiting for news.”

“You headed to the bar?”

“Yeah. I’ll let her know what happened here.” He kissed the top of her head and hugged her. “Go see your dad.”

Numb, she climbed into her truck and started the long drive south, out of Woodstock.