Chapter Twenty-Seven
Alice
The next morning I wake up with a stiff neck and no feeling in my legs. With a groan, I press my fingers on the aching spot at the back of my neck.
I feel like a bus ran me over. Serves me right for sleeping in an armchair with my legs curled under me. My head has probably been bobbing around searching for a pillow the entire night.
When I returned home last evening, I plopped into my favorite armchair and threw my own pity party. At some point, I fell asleep, and now I have a stiff neck to show for it. God, I’m a mess. When I regain the feeling in my legs somewhat, I climb out of the armchair, heading to the bathroom.
Holy bejeezus. The reflection in the mirror belongs in a horror movie. Mascara is nice and sexy when freshly applied, but not so much after you cry yourself to sleep with it on. With a sigh and a heavy heart, I pour makeup remover on a cotton pad and clean my face, losing some eyelashes in the process. Next I shower, scrubbing my entire body before carefully shampooing and rinsing my hair twice.
When I step out of the bathroom, I might be clean, but I don’t feel any less miserable. Heartbreak can’t be washed away. My heart seems to have doubled in weight overnight. It hangs so heavy in my chest that I don’t know what to do with myself. I swear every breath hurts.
Normally, I would call Pippa because my sister always makes everything better, but she has two babies constantly glued to her and a family who needs her. As much as I need her, it would be selfish of me to call her. Briefly I consider calling Summer, but I don’t feel like relaying everything over the phone. Pep talks or commiseration only work in person. Besides, I need someone to give me a tight hug and tell me everything will be okay. You can’t hug over the phone.
Resigned with having only my blanket to snuggle, I curl up in my bed, sighing. It’s Saturday, which means I should be at Blue Moon, but I can’t bring myself to dress up and head out in the world. The mere thought of smiling at patrons and making chitchat gives me a headache. Besides, somehow I’m sure people would take one look at me and see right through my facade. Hugging my pillow tightly, I bring my blanket to my chin and wallow.
It’s early afternoon when my door buzzes, forcing me out of bed. Reluctantly, I head to the front door, wondering who it might be. Peeking through the peephole, I’m startled. It’s Pippa.
What’s she doing here? Did I actually call her and forget? I’m not so far gone, am I?
Gulping, I open the front door.
“Why aren’t you answering your phone? I was worried.”
“I was asleep, didn’t hear it. Why are you worried?”
She tilts her head to one side, her hands on her hips. “I heard what happened with Nate.”
“How?”
“I have my ways.”
“Clara?”
“Yep.”
“Then by all means, come inside and join my pity party.” Leading her to my living room, I relay everything that happened last night, from Horowitz’s proposal to my parting words to Nate. I thought replaying those moments in my mind would crush me further, but instead it brings a wave of relief, as if by saying them out loud I took a weight off my shoulders.
By the time I’m done, I notice I’m curled on one side on the couch. My head is in Pippa’s lap, and she’s stroking my hair in a soothing gesture.
“Pippa?” I ask quietly. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
“You love Nate, don’t you?”
“Yes.” I have the distinct feeling that my heart is crawling up my throat, obstructing my breath.
“And the man loves you. I mean, there’s no denying that. I’ve seen the two of you together.”
“Not the point.” Pushing myself into a sitting position, I glance at my sister suspiciously.
“How is this not the point?”
“The point is I don’t want him to think he has to choose between his dream and me.”
“So you made the choice for him.”
“Isn’t it easier that way?” I want to call Nate because I don’t like how I left things between us, but I haven’t been able to muster the energy or the courage yet.
Pippa shifts closer to me, putting her delicate hand on top of mine. “Alice, you’re the most determined person I know. You never choose the easy way. You always find a way to make things work. Who are you, and what have you done to my sister?”
“I could ask you the same thing. I need sugar and a lot of love. Not tough love, Pippa.” My voice is almost pleading.
“I digress,” she says firmly, but not unkindly. “When you find the man who makes you feel loved and cherished every day, you fight. You find solutions. He adores you. You honestly think he’ll be happy without you?”
“No? Yes? I don’t know? Please be my sweet, non-ass-kicking sister again. I can’t think. My brain got fried sometime last night. Heartbreak sends the neurons into a coma. Why isn’t there some research on this?”
“Cupcakes or donuts?”
I breathe out with relief. “Cupcakes.”
“I’ll be right back.”
She hurries out of my apartment, her silky blonde hair bouncing around her shoulders, and returns about fifteen minutes later with bags of goodies.
“Ended up buying donuts too. They looked too delicious to just leave them there.”
“That’s my sister,” I exclaim with a half-hearted fist pump.
For the next few hours, we stuff ourselves with carbs and sugar, talk about everything under the sun except Nate, and my sister allows me to wallow. I’m almost convinced my sweet-natured sister has kicked her tough-love tendency to the curb for the day. Oh, how deluded I was.
When the last of the donuts and cupcakes are gone, Pippa claps her hands once. I almost expect someone to pull up a curtain behind her and announce, “Showtime.”
“Okay, before we go into a sugar and carb coma, we need to make a plan,” she explains.
I’m sitting on the floor, in front of my couch with my knees pulled to my chest. Groaning, I watch Pippa pace around my living room, full of energy.
“Have you considered moving with him to London?”
A knot locks in my throat as I rest my chin on my knees. “Yes, but that would mean being so far away from all of you.”
“You can always visit, Alice,” she says gently. “Like Summer does.”
“Did you consider moving with Eric to Boston?”
When Pippa met Eric, he was in San Francisco for a few months only, expanding his business on the East Coast. His life and the headquarters of his company were in Boston. In the end, he decided to remain in San Francisco.
My sister sighs, stopping her maddening pace. Just as well, because I was starting to get a headache just from watching her.
“Initially I dismissed the idea because I didn’t want to be so far away from the family. But in the end, if he hadn’t stayed in San Francisco, I would have moved to Boston,” she says with utmost certainty.
“I have three restaurants in San Francisco though. It’s not some online business I can run from anywhere. I worked hard for all of this.”
Pippa is not to be deterred. She points to the ceiling, as if saying I have an idea.
“Where’s your laptop?” she asks.
“In my room.”
With a nod, she disappears into my room, returning with my laptop. She sits next to me on the floor, opening the lid. “Let’s go through your daily tasks.”
Licking my lips, I nod. This feels good, productive. I pull up my weekly calendar on the screen. Pippa scans through it.
“So you spend roughly half your time in telephone conferences with various marketing partners. Tourism agencies, hotels, magazines….”
“That’s right. I have contracts with some, but with others it’s a matter of being on friendly terms so they recommend my restaurants.”
“And you do this every day?”
“Yeah, mostly in the mornings but also in the downtime between lunch and dinner. I have designated hours every day for this. The people I speak to rotate, obviously, but I like having a dedicated time to talk to them. I like my plans.”
“I wish I were more like you, more organized. Instead, my plan is to put out the fire burning the brightest.”
“Hey, whatever works for you is best.”
“Okay, but you could do this from anywhere, right? Calling, I mean. You’ll have to work around the time zone difference, but it’s doable. How often do you meet in person with these people?”
“Once every few months.”
“See? You could fly in.”
“Yeah, but as you said, it’s just half of what I do.”
Pippa scrunches her nose. Oh crap, I know this reaction. She employed it rigorously when she was checking my homework way back when and found mistakes.
“Yeah, the other half needs some streamlining.”
“What?” I ask defensively.
“Alice, you’re a control freak.”
“Gee, finally caught up to that, didn’t you, Sherlock?”
She points to my screen where my weekly schedule stares back at us. I have tasks assigned for every hour.
“Let’s start with the most obvious part. Why do you spend lunch and dinner in the restaurant greeting patrons?” She points to those two words on the screen as if they’re an offense of the highest order.
“People like the personal touch. They like knowing the owner is there and really cares about them having a good time, not just about the money they spend there.”
Pippa nods patiently but scrunches her nose again. “Except you have three restaurants now. Which means you have to rotate between them, so at any given time, you have customers who never see you anyway. What’s the point to keep doing that?”
I run a frustrated hand through my hair, wishing we had more cupcakes. “When I expanded, I just wanted to keep the personal touch somehow.”
“Alice, I love you, but from a purely business perspective, it’s insanity. You’re micromanaging everything. Once you expand, the personal touch goes away. It has to, or you’ll kill yourself running around. You can’t be in three places at the same time. Just taking away that task from your list would free up a considerable amount of time. You can’t work twelve hours a day forever.”
“I know,” I admit in defeat.
“So after removing that, the last thing requiring your presence in the restaurants is supervising your managers. You seem to double-check everything they do. Do you not trust them?”
“I do, but I trust myself more.”
“Listen, in the early days of Bennett Enterprises, I did everything in the design area from drawing to prototyping. When we grew, I obviously had to let some of my duties go. I focused on design, others on prototypes. And guess what? They messed up. Once someone cut a twelve-carat diamond in half by mistake. Once—”
“Holy crap! How the hell do you cut a diamond by mistake?”
“I still have no idea to this day. The point is people make mistakes, and they learn. Then they mess up again. It’s normal. But if you don’t trust them to do their job, what’s the point?”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I feel a tad embarrassed. The worst one of my managers can do is order the wrong type of ingredients, or not enough, or forget to pay the bills on time, which compared to messing up a freaking diamond sounds like a fluke.
Sighing, I say, “I suppose I could have the managers hand me a daily report.”
“You should at any rate. We introduced a very handy reporting tool in Bennett Enterprises last year. Christopher could tell you about it, he knows the ins and outs. You probably don’t need half the options it has, but it’ll be very helpful.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
“You co-own and run one of the locations with Blake. Ask him to do some of the tasks you don’t feel comfortable leaving to your location managers yet.” Shoving the laptop in my lap, she adds, “Imagine you’re living in London starting tomorrow. Make your daily plan based on that. Factor in spending one week every two months here. Monthly in the beginning if you need to. And don’t say the airfare will cost a fortune.”
“It is a point though.”
“Not when Bennett Enterprises owns a private jet. Using it won’t make you any less of an independent, ass-kicking woman.”
“Yeah, but I don’t work at Bennett Enterprises.”
Pippa smirks. “You’re a shareholder. If you fight me on this, I’ll tell Sebastian to give you a piece of his mind.”
I wince, remembering my brother’s stricken expression when he realized I’m donating all the income I get from the company. For the next hundred years or so, I’m going to make sure I only give him reasons to smile. He’s a great brother.
“I don’t always play dirty, but when I do, it’s for a good cause. Now make that plan.”
Frowning, I flip the calendar to a week sometime in the future. My mind freezes for a split second upon seeing the blank screen. Chewing the inside of my cheek, I try to visualize how a typical day would look.
My fingers almost fly over the keyboard as I fill in the calendar. My pulse quickens, and for the first time since last evening, my heart feels light. Maybe we can make this work. If he wants it to.
“This looks plausible,” I say once I’m done.
Pippa nods thoughtfully. “It wasn’t so hard. I knew once you had a plan you’d see things differently.”
“I can’t decide if it’s annoying or endearing that you know me so well.”
Pippa bats her eyelashes, kissing my cheek. It’s amazing how we change from grown-ass women to our ten-year-old selves when we’re alone together. “Just looking after my sister. Now how about calling Nate and telling him everything?”
Panic coils inside of me. “What if he doesn’t want me to go with him though? What if he pushes me away?” This is possibly my greatest fear, and why I haven’t called him until now.
“Ah, now we’re getting to the real crux of the issue. You were the one who pushed him away, right? Were you trying to beat him to the punch or something?”
“I think so,” I admit. “But maybe he agrees with me. He’s not exactly banging down my door, is he?”
Pippa snorts, pushing herself off the floor and stretching her legs. I have the feeling my sister is about to kick my ass again.
“Men’s egos sometimes stand in their way. You should know it—we have six brothers. That’s all the research we need. After what you told him, he’s probably trying to make sense of everything, licking his wounds and so on.”
“Right.”
“Call him.”
“What if he doesn’t want me to?”
“You’ll have to put yourself out there and see what happens.”