It is finally here. Opening night. And while I should be excited, I still feel bad about yesterday. My mind drifts to the conversation I had with Amber when we were walking to the train. On our way there, I asked Amber what she said to Ashton. She told me that she made it clear that Brock had told me everything, and that I didn’t want to see him after that.
“Is that all?” I asked her.
“Yes. Why?”
“Because he looked so sad.”
She shrugged. “He knows he messed up. He was a jerk for saying the things he said.”
We walk some more, neither of us speaking for minute.
“Oh! He also told me to tell you that you should know he is still not sorry.”
He keeps saying that, but I am sorry because I can’t get it out of my head. I have to forget about the kiss…and about him.
I shake my head, trying to clear my mind. I have been in the kitchen prepping since nine this morning. I have staff of course, but I am so anal that it’s hard for me to relinquish control. I have worked so long and so hard to get here, and now that it’s finally here, I need everything to be perfect.
“It’s all happening,” Amber says in a sing-song voice as she saunters into the kitchen.
“How is everything at the front of the house?”
“Everything and everybody is ready to go. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.”
I roll my eyes at her statement, much to Amber’s amusement. I look around the kitchen, mentally going over my checklist. I smile when I am satisfied that all the boxes are checked.
“I think that I am ready to go in here, also,” I tell her.
“Alright, go take a quick shower and put on a fresh set of scrubs. Then we can have a quick toast before we open the doors.”
Amber ushers me towards my office, and since a shower actually sounds good, I listen.
After a quick shower, I feel refreshed. But the butterflies in my stomach are out of control. We are booked solid all the way up to closing time and for the rest of the month for that matter, thanks to Mikaela’s many contacts and some raving reviews from food critics. Mikaela says that the mystery surrounding the yet to be announced name has also created some buzz. I walk into the dining room and a sense of accomplishment washes over me. The place looks amazing, even better than I imagined it to be when we got started. It is hard to believe that this place was in shambles mere weeks ago. Amber and Alex are chatting up a storm with Brock and Mikaela when I approach.
“Ugh finally,” Amber says as I join them. “Can we finally crack this open?” she says as she holds up a bottle of Perrier-Jouët Belle Epoque.
My very favorite champagne.
I smirk at her.
“By all means, let’s get this party started,” I tell her.
“Speech!” Amber says loudly.
“Yes, speech!” Mikaela chimes in.
I shake my head.
“Come on, M. Give us a few words,” Brocks says as he hands me a glass.
I take the glass from him and raise it.
“Fine then,” I say. “But remember that you asked for this,” I warn.
Amber chuckles.
“You guys, I’m standing here tonight in awe. In awe of each of you and your hard work and dedication to help make my dream come true. After what Chris did to me, I thought that it was just never going to happen for me.”
I turn slightly to face Brock.
“But then I met you, Brock, and you made it possible for me to believe in my dream again. I adore you for that,” I say as I smile at him.
I turn to a little to the left.
“Amber, you have been my best friend for so long. I can’t remember a time when we weren’t friends. You have always been my biggest cheerleader and my light in the darkest of days. You have given up job security and dropped everything to come help me with the restaurant, and I am so grateful that you are on this journey with me. I love you.”
She looks at me, tears glistening in her eyes.
“Stop it, M. You are going to ruin my makeup.” She sniffles. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else. You know that. I know that this place is going to be a huge success, and I am glad to be a part of it,” she croaks.
“Alex, same goes for you. I’m grateful to have you here, and I adore you. You know that. I know you had a great gig, and you gave it up to work with the two craziest broads you know. I guess we have grown on you, huh?”
He chuckles.
“Well, I could say that Amber made me, but I actually begged her to take me on. I will always be part of your team.”
I smile at him and turn to Mikaela.
“Mik, you and I have become fast friends through all of this, and I am so happy you and your ten-mile long legs walked into this place. You have been so instrumental in turning my vision for this place into a reality and even exceeded my expectations. I hope you know that you are stuck with us now because we adore you,” I say with a wink.
She smirks.
“Ditto, for sure. And to be clear, it is you who’s stuck with me for life!” she says with a giggle.
“Okay guys, are you ready to find out what the name of this fine establishment will be?”
“Yes!” they say in unison.
“Okay, follow me. Let’s toast outside!”
Everyone follows me outside, and I tell them to cover their eyes. I have a little remote that flips the light on, and I pull the covering off the sign. As my sign lights up, I tear up.
“Okay,” I tell them. “You can look! Welcome to Indigenous, you guys!”
Mikaela claps her hands. “Oh, I love that name! It’s perfect!”
Brock puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me against him.
“It gets the husband stamp of approval,” he says as he winks at me.
“Gah! I love it so much, M,” Amber shrieks.
“Okay you guys, time to toast!” Alex chimes in.
“To Indigenous,” we all say in unison as our glasses make contact. “Cheers.”
We take a sip of our champagne and head back inside, ready for the night to really and truly begin.
* * *
I can’t believe how smoothly everything is running in my kitchen tonight. Orders are going out like clockwork, and we have had nothing but great feedback so far. Not a single dish has been sent back, either. I am busy plating when Amber walks into the kitchen.
“It’s time for you to walk the dining room and greet the guests,” Amber tells me.
I grimace.
“I’m too busy right now,” I protest.
“Nonsense. They can handle the kitchen for a few minutes. Right guys? Tell her.”
“We can handle it, chef,” Martin, my sous chef, says.
“Yes, Chef. We’ve got this,” Hannah, my pastry chef, chimes in.
I groan.
“Besides, Clara and Tom are here. You have to come and say hello.”
“Fine,” I grumble. “Let me wash my hands first.”
“Okay, I’ll go on ahead,” she says. “Don’t make me come back and drag you out,” she calls over her shoulder.
I wash my hands and remember that the card we have for Clara and Tom is on my desk. I walk into my office, and when I push the door open, I nearly have a heart attack. Ashton is standing by my desk, looking at the picture frame in his hand.
“Jesus, Ashton. What are you doing in here? You scared the crap out of me. This is the second time you’ve done that.”
He puts the frame back on my desk. It’s the picture of Brock and me.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just want to talk to you.”
“Have you ever thought of picking up a phone?”
“Your friend made it clear that you didn’t want to hear from me or see me again.”
“Yet here you are.”
“If I called, would you have answered?”
“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. And we will never know for sure now, will we?”
He takes a step closer, and I think for a second that my heart is going to burst out of my chest.
“Do you love him?” he demands.
“What kind of a question is that?”
“It is a simple question. Do. You. Love. Him?”
I don’t want to lie to him, but I also can’t tell him the truth.
“I don’t see how that is any of your business,” I say, trying to deflect his question.
He shoves a hand through his hair, frustration radiating from him.
“Damn it, Mac. I need to know.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
“No, I don’t. Do you want to enlighten me?”
“Listen Mac, I know that you have feelings for me. I felt it when I kissed you, and if I am right, then you cannot possibly be in love with my brother. Because if you even feel an iota of what I feel for you, for Brock, then you would have never let me kiss you, let alone respond to me so naturally.”
“I wasn’t sure how to respond,” I say weakly.
It sounds lame, even to me.
“Bullshit,” he barks.
“I have to go,” I tell him as I turn to leave.
He is fast as lightning and reaches me before I can even blink. He grabs my arm and pulls me toward him. His lips crush mine, and he invades my mouth with his. I melt into the kiss without any hesitation because I am powerless to resist. I have been craving his mouth since the moment his lips left mine. His kiss is like a siren’s song, and I am completely and utterly at his mercy. He moans into my mouth. All of a sudden, my brain starts working again, and I realize what I am doing. I push him off me.
“Stop,” I say hoarsely. “You need to leave.”
I take a few steps back, desperately needing some distance.
“See, that right there? That kiss? You don’t kiss just anyone like that, Mac.”
He’s right, and I want to tell him so badly how I feel about him. My bottom lip trembles. I open my mouth to speak, to tell him that he is right. That I love him.
But he speaks first.
“I was right, wasn’t I? You are marrying my brother so he will pay for your restaurant.”
I am flabbergasted and stunned into silence. He must take my silence for admission because he goes on.
“You are using him. You don’t care about him. You are just taking advantage of a lovesick fool.”
His words punch me right in the chest. He doesn’t have feelings for me, he is just trying to trick me, I think to myself. My heart breaks right then and there.
“Let me answer your question,” I say in an icy tone. “I love your brother, and I will marry him. Restaurant or no restaurant.”
I take a step toward him, pointing my finger at him.
“And you better believe that this is the last time I am going to let you insinuate that I am some kind of whore.”
He blinks.
“You need to leave now. I don’t ever want to see you again, and the next time you even think about so much as shaking my hand, my knee will be making contact with your crown jewels.”
“Mac, I—”
“Get. Out,” I bite as I turn and point toward the door.
I feel the color drain from my face, and I imagine that I have taken on the color of my uniform. Brock is standing in the door opening, looking on in horror. There is no telling how much of this he has witnessed.
“Brock, I…” my voice trails off.
“I have warned you, Ashton. Get the hell out of here. You don’t get to talk to her like that.”
Ashton opens his mouth to speak, but he is interrupted by Brock.
“Get. Out. Now!” he bellows.
Tears are streaming freely and pouring down my face, blurring my vision. I get pulled into a pair of strong arms.
“It’s okay, M. I’m here,” he whispers against my temple. “I’m so sorry.”
I wipe the tears from my face with the backs of my hands.
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” I tell him.
“Are you in love with him, M?”
The question surprises me. He has heard more than I thought he did. I don’t want to tell him, but I care too much for him to lie to him.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Are you?”
“I think so, yes,” I almost whisper.
“I see.”
“But it doesn’t matter. I could never be with him, and my commitment is to you. I am not going back on my word to you, I promise. We will still get married.”
Brock looks at me with a pained look on his face.
“Listen, don’t worry about it okay? It’s not like he is in love with me too. He was just angry and was trying to smoke out a gold digger.”
“Mackenzie, I...”
Brock doesn’t get to finish his sentence because Amber storms into my office.
“What the hell, M? What’s the hold up?”
She cocks her head when she sees me. She rushes toward me.
“What happened? Are you okay?”
I nod.
“I’m fine, I promise,” I mutter.
Her eyes dart to Brock.
“You heard her,” he says. “She’s fine.”
“Okay,” she says.
I know she isn’t buying it for a second, but she lets it go.
“You realize that you can’t go out there looking like that, right?”
I walk to the bathroom and flip the light on.
“You don’t think that the raccoon look will be a hit?”
Amber shakes her head and chuckles.
“Let’s try to fix this mess.”
* * *
We manage to salvage my face and make me as presentable as possible. I make my rounds through the restaurant and stop by every table to greet the diners, thanking them for coming and giving us a chance. I love watching people enjoy my food. We don’t have an empty table until it is time to close the doors. By the time the last happy customer leaves, we are all exhausted. After we clean up, I invite all the staff to stay over and relax for a bit. All of us are sitting at the largest table in the restaurant, enjoying a well-deserved drink. Brock is sitting next to me, and I lean my head on his shoulder as all of us listen to Hannah animatedly tell the story of how she thought she won the jackpot on a scratch off but didn’t. Brock leans in and kisses the top of my head.
“You did it, M,” he tells me proudly.
“We did it,” I say, correcting him.
“Always have to have the last word, don’t you?”
“Nope.”
He chuckles.
“See?”
“See what?”
He shakes his head and smirks.
“I meant what I said though, Brock.”
He raises a brow.
“You’ve said a lot of things,” he teases. “How is a guy to keep up?”
I smack his arm playfully, and he laughs. I look up at him, and our eyes lock.
“I love you.”
He smiles.
“I love you, too,” he says as he leans in and pecks me on the nose.
It tickles and causes me to giggle.
“Aw, look at the love birds, you guys! You are too adorable,” Hannah coos.
My eyes dart to Brock, and we laugh.
“We are freaking adorable,” I tell him.
“I think I’ve heard that somewhere before,” he says as he winks at me.
“We’re good, right? You and me?” I ask.
“Never better,” he says.