Courting the Cowgirl
Autor:in
Cheryl Harper
Gelesen
19,5K
Kapitel
19
CHAPTER ONE
BRIAN CARUSO ARRANGED the lamp, stapler and Montblanc fountain pen—that had cost more than his first car—in precise lines on his cleared mahogany desk and ignored the amused smirk of his executive chef, Belvie. She was waiting for him to hand over control of his restaurant, and he was finding it harder than he expected to take the final step. This would be the first “vacation” he’d taken since he’d opened Rinnovato—one of the top ten restaurants in Los Angeles.
While this trip to Smalltown, Colorado, population who-knew, wasn’t strictly for relaxation, the two-week break would give Belvie plenty of time to stretch her wings. His right hand was ready to fly the nest and open her own place soon.
Though Rinnovato was built exactly as he’d dreamed, it was impossible to calculate how much of his success he owed to Belvie, so he kept giving gentle nudges to encourage her, but she refused to leap. This could be the final proof she needed to step out on her own.
Brian carefully polished away all the imaginary smudges on the gleaming surface of his desk.
“Are you trying to intimidate any dust that might wish to gather here in your absence?” Belvie asked before pointing at the pen. Her lilting voice bubbled with a smile. “You shouldn’t leave that out. It’s expensive. How do I know? I collected the funds from your entire staff to get it. Imagine, forty-three people all agreed we wanted to give you something special to mark our restaurant’s anniversary. Five years. That is an eternity in restaurant life.”
Brian leaned back in his oversize desk chair. “I know and appreciate all that.” He and his team had beaten stiff odds to make it past the first year. And five years was a magic number—the benchmark that suggested Rinnovato was going to enjoy a nice, long life. He’d chosen the Italian word for renovated or renewed as a name because the restaurant’s success would change his life. He and Belvie and a long list of others had then done whatever it had taken to make that promise come true.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Brian said. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d said as much to Belvie. They had learned this business together.
She brushed her braids over her shoulder. “And the cost is why you will never use that pen.”
“But I will always keep it on display, like fine art.” He shrugged. “You know how it is. We come from nothing. We enjoy the good stuff by never, ever using it.”
Belvie sighed. “Of course, but some of us can learn to live a little, too.” She flashed the expensive gold bangle on her wrist. “Here I am, wearing fine jewelry to work the dinner shift.”
Brian smiled. “Looks good on you.”
“I know. My mother would cluck her tongue in dismay at such a waste, but I am lucky to work for a boss who generously shares the profits with his staff. Nice things are always a pleasant reward. He has also trained his loyal staff well. Successfully operating without him will be difficult but not impossible.” Belvie stood. “If you don’t leave now, you and your daughter will arrive late to the airport. Being late worries Gemma.”
“Leaving you here alone worries me.” Brian held up his hands in surrender as she propped her hands on her hips. “Not because you can’t handle it, but because it’s a lot of responsibility. I don’t like leaving the extra work for you.”
“It’s less than two weeks. Many people all over the world take similar time off. It’s called a vay-cay-shun. Vacation. You aren’t familiar with the word, but this will be an excellent experience.” Belvie scoffed. “Besides that, the bonus you are paying me to take over? My gold bracelet is lonely. Another bangle will comfort us both while I am toiling so hard.”
“We don’t take vacations, Belvie, not from the restaurant. You know that. It’s just not us.” Brian couldn’t remember ever leaving a kitchen, his or anyone else’s, for so long. Not voluntarily, anyway.
“We did our trial run while you were off taping your television show. Entire days where Rinnovato operated seamlessly without Chef Caruso steering the ship.” Belvie wagged her finger. “If you didn’t realize that a nationally broadcast TV program would make you famous and gain such opportunities to travel and demonstrate your many skills, I do not know what to tell you.”
“I’m not famous,” Brian said. “It was a cooking competition on a cable network, and I didn’t even win the thing.” Sadie Hearst had convinced him to participate in the Best Chef in America tournament against fifteen other chefs. He and the cooking icon met when she’d popped up at his food truck, and she’d mentored him through all the bumps of opening Rinnovato. Time with Sadie had boosted his own confidence. She’d started out in tiny Prospect, Colorado, and built a respectable empire without losing a bit of spark or common sense as far as Brian could ever tell.
She’d sold him on the tournament by appealing to his practical side. Participating had provided publicity for the restaurant, as expected. It had also given him a chance to prove his skills against chefs with formal culinary training and more extensive experience.
Both of them had understood what that meant: measuring up against the best.
Unfortunately, there had also been a lot of intrusive newspaper and magazine articles focused on his humble background. That he hadn’t counted on. Seeing his face on the front page of the newspaper’s food section had been painful. That level of fame was bad enough. He wasn’t sure what would have happened if he’d managed to win the thing; finishing third had made him temporarily recognizable on the street in some parts of LA.
Drawing people to his food was good. Landing on gossip blogs was bad.
On her last visit, Sadie had been filled with glee by the scrum of photographers staking out his restaurant to get candid shots of famous people and him, when he couldn’t escape them. She had tried to coach him on using the fifteen minutes of stardom correctly, but he’d been more interested in running out the clock.
Brian missed Sadie Hearst. The death of his favorite customer and trusted advisor had hit him hard. He was certain she would have words of wisdom about raising teenage girls. Gemma remained his biggest challenge in life.
Only an opportunity to repay the numerous favors Sadie had done for him would lure him away from his kitchen for two weeks. Taking his daughter with him was a high-risk gamble.
Time was ticking. Brian could picture the worried frown on his daughter’s face as she waited for him. “Are you sure you don’t want this opportunity in Prospect?” he asked Belvie. “You could run your own kitchen. Create your own menu. I don’t know the Hearsts well, but they would love you. Everyone loves you.”
Belvie nodded as if she was accepting her due. “Of course they would love me, but I will continue to make a generous salary here while I steal all your best ideas for Italian fare and apply them to my family’s recipes, until I am ready to do my own thing. I have become a mildly important influencer on the social media channels doing exactly as I please with my own twists on Ghanaian cuisine. I thank you for your vote of confidence.”
Since everything Belvie made him was delicious, he had no doubt that her mild importance would only grow with time. She definitely had the personality to draw fans.
“We still haven’t decided what to do about San Francisco,” he said as he shoved the file of real estate listings, his accountant’s proposed expansion budget and the rough business plan he’d been drafting for a second restaurant in northern California into his laptop case.
“Are you quite certain that we haven’t?” Belvie asked as she twisted the bangle on her wrist. “It may still be California, Brian, but it’s a rainy place. I don’t like rainy places.”
He rubbed his forehead, weary. They’d immediately fallen back into the rut of the conversation they’d been having for months. “This location is perfect. Steady. If we’re going to take the next step, it’s now, but we have to do it together.”
“I will take excellent care of your Rinnovato while you are gone. This will reinforce your belief that I can run this while you open a new place where it is foggy and wet if that is what you wish. We can both be happy, but today is not the day to shake hands on that negotiation.” Belvie pointed at the clock on the wall. Gold hands were moving steadily onward. “Gemma is waiting.”
“Since the kitchen will be short-staffed, call in Robbie.” Brian stood to pick up his bag.
“You are taking two of my best line chefs with you for your new TV show and want me to replace them with one flaky boy who forgets to show up for shifts? I do not see how this is an equitable exchange.” Belvie opened his office door and waited for him to leave.
“It’s a web series, not a television show, and Robbie will do better. Everyone deserves another chance. And those two chefs were the only ones I could get to agree to participate in a cooking competition for a cash prize and the chance to run their own restaurant for a year in Small... Um...er, Prospect, Colorado. Losing Franky or Rafa is going to be difficult in the long run. Robbie can help.” Brian knew either one of the young chefs could do the job, and he was happy to give them a shot they might not get otherwise, but they would be missed.
Robbie had messed up, no doubt. It was his first real job, and he’d never had to fight for every dollar, so losing this restaurant gig had been a real wake-up call. Belvie had been absolutely right to fire him.
Meanwhile, Brian had needed third and fourth chances and the kindness of strangers like Sadie Hearst in his life to help get him to where he was today. Giving people some grace when they had talent and good hearts was a lesson he’d learned from that. Efficient overachiever Belvie hadn’t needed those do-overs yet, so they agreed to disagree whenever Brian rehired someone she fired.
Brian waited for her to agree to Robbie’s second chance in the Rinnovato kitchen.
Finally, she rolled her eyes. “You’re the boss. I will call him. His ability to make perfect pasta from scratch is not easy to replace.”
Relieved to have that standoff resolved, Brian moved quickly through the restaurant. Out of habit, he scanned the tables and floor as he went, but everything was spotless. “You have my number. Call me if anything comes up.”
He had one foot out on the sidewalk when she responded, “Everything will be fine here, thank you!” Belvie gave a curt nod and turned away. The woman could be trusted to lead battalions into war, and the rest of his staff was experienced. Leaving Rinnovato would be fine.
The concept of spending two weeks with his teenage daughter in the middle of nowhere while he ran a small cooking competition streamed online had his stomach tied into knots.
Sadie’s great-nephew, Michael Hearst, had approached him about assisting with this web series after Sadie’s death. As the new CEO of her company, the Cookie Queen Corporation, Michael was searching for online content to keep Sadie’s fans returning to the company website. Sadie and her live events had been a huge traffic driver.
Brian had heard a great deal about all of the Hearsts over dinners with Sadie, so he knew Sarah, Jordan and Brooke were her great-nieces.
He hadn’t known about their inheritance of an old fishing lodge in Sadie’s hometown of Prospect until Michael showed up one evening at Rinnovato. While Brooke was in New York, Sarah and Jordan had reopened the place and were struggling to find a chef to run the restaurant there. The debt Brian owed Sadie made it impossible to refuse to help the man. Michael had asked for three competitors; Brian had only been able to get two, but either one would be an asset to the lodge’s restaurant. He was certain this competition would turn out well.
However, nothing about this whole situation made Brian comfortable. And he’d worked hard to get to this stage in his life where everything was predictably comfortable.
Ordered.
The kind of life that had been a daydream at one point.
Leaving it in exchange for the unknown was difficult.
Bringing his daughter along? That raised the stakes.
After he loaded his laptop bag next to his suitcase in the SUV, Brian slipped into the congestion of LA afternoon traffic. When he parked, Gemma was sitting on the front steps, one hand gripping the handle of her suitcase. She immediately stood and hurried down to the sidewalk. Her mother, Monica, followed and managed to grab her for a hug before she slid into the passenger seat. “I’m going to miss you, baby. Have fun. I hope you get to ride a horse.”
Brian got out of the car and picked up Gemma’s suitcase.
“You said I could call you if I want to come home,” Gemma said anxiously when Monica stepped back. “Remember?”
Monica met his eyes before nodding. “I did, but you are going to enjoy this. I know it.”
Gemma didn’t answer that, but she did glance at him over her shoulder. The worry on her face didn’t boost his confidence.
Monica followed him to the back of the SUV. “Being late isn’t the best start, you know. She’s anxious about this trip and...”
Brian nodded. “Yeah, I know. Sorry. Tying up all the loose ends at the restaurant took time.” He shut the trunk. “This trip you’re taking... Exactly what are you going to do from Mexico if she decides she wants to come home? Your new husband is prepared to come back early from this honeymoon?”
Monica wrinkled her nose. “Let’s not find out, okay? You two need to spend some time together and this is a great opportunity for that. If Gemma calls, I’ll do my best to convince her of the positives of staying, but I need you to be committed to keeping her there and content. You can do that, right?”
Brian had done a lot of hard things in his life, but this might be a challenge beyond his capabilities. Still, he wasn’t going to admit that here. “Gemma and I are going to have a great break.”
“Keep telling yourself that. Eventually, you’ll believe it.” Monica patted his hand and moved toward the passenger side. She was waving when he buckled his seat belt.
“Are you ready, Gem?” Brian asked in his friendliest Dad voice.
Her quick glance in his direction was filled with worry, but she nodded. “Yes, we should go. We need to be at the airport at least two hours before boarding.” She pointed at the clock to show him they were in danger of missing that window.
“It’s more of a suggestion than an actual rule,” Brian said as he hit the freeway headed to LAX. “Our first trip together, just the two of us. Are you excited?”
Her polite expression didn’t inspire confidence but she nodded. “Flying can be stressful, but I love to see new places.”
The urge to tell her he hadn’t flown or left California until he was an adult had to be squashed. He might not know much about fathering, but no teenager ever appreciated “back in my day” stories. His “growing up in LA” lessons were so unlike Gemma’s that he and his daughter might have been born on different planets, but there was no good reason to point that out right now. They were both acutely aware of how dissimilar they were.
Since he’d finally reached the point where he had the money to do it, he preferred that Gemma’s experience be the best: travel, clothes, cell phone and private school. Paying the tuition and funding her extracurriculars filled him with pleasure. He and Monica had learned to talk without yelling, too. It was mind-blowing what a difference having money could make in a person’s life. Hard work, long hours and a healthy dose of luck had made that change in his life. It was a privilege to pass it on to his daughter.
After they made it through security, visited their gate to allay Gemma’s concern that something had mysteriously altered their departure time, and found a map of all the food and shopping options in their concourse, Brian knew immediately what would be a winning suggestion. “There’s a coffee place. Want to see if they have your iced macchiatos?” Should a sixteen-year-old have an expensive coffee drink habit? Brian was no expert, but the way his daughter’s face brightened immediately convinced him not to spend much time worrying about it.
She’d been stuck to his heels like a shadow all the way through the airport.
But the promise of a treat convinced her to take the lead.
They got their drinks, a couple of chocolate croissants for sustenance and settled in at their gate. Some of the tension between them was gone, so Brian relaxed in his seat and stopped racking his brain for conversation starters. Instead, he nudged her shoulder. “Look at that cool T-shirt.”
When Gemma turned to see the guy walking toward them wearing a Guns N’ Roses band T-shirt, he waited for her reaction. Her lips were twitching when she turned back to him. “Is that, like, classic rock?” She raised an eyebrow and he sighed dramatically to make her giggle. They used to fight over the radio controls when she was small, so it was nice to see she remembered.
“I bet they play that in the grocery store now, Dad.” Gemma pulled out her tablet and slipped on headphones. Brian watched over her shoulder as some kind of reality show featuring expensive boats and a lot of alcohol played. He couldn’t hear any of the conversation, but he knew he was following the plot without much difficulty.
Thankfully, the flight was on time and they landed in Denver after sunset. Picking up the rental car was the usual hassle, but he was satisfied when they pulled out onto the highway in the full-size SUV.
“You’re going to have to help me navigate.” Brian handed Gemma his phone. “I’ve got the map loaded, but I haven’t done this kind of driving before.” He tightened his hands on the steering wheel. “Country driving. No tourists shooting across four lanes to make a turn or bumper-to-bumper traffic for no good reason. It’s weird, you know?”
The small wrinkle on Gemma’s forehead reminded him that this was new to her, too. He waved a hand. “You and I together don’t have anything to worry about. When it tells me to turn after the second boulder shaped like a tree, give me your best guess.”
Gemma tilted her head to the side. “You don’t get out of LA much, do you?”
Brian laughed as he realized no matter what happened next, he and Gemma were having a real adventure.
And they were doing it together.
He’d lost a lot of time he could have spent adventuring with his daughter, thanks to his own stupid mistakes when she was a baby, and then the drive to succeed when he’d made it out. They both deserved to enjoy every minute of this. “Navigator controls the radio station, too. Find us some classic rock to listen to.”
She shook her head. “Nope. Taylor Swift, coming right up.”
When she landed on a station, he surprised her by singing along with the first song. It was not by Taylor Swift and he couldn’t name the singer, but he’d listened to Gemma’s station often enough that he knew some of the words. She joined in and Brian felt the flutter of hope in his chest.
He’d tried to avoid that flutter for a long time. He’d learned that hope was dangerous, but Belvie had made a good point. A smart man would teach himself to enjoy these special gifts.
When the first station faded, Gemma picked another. She helped him find the turns, and they rolled into Prospect’s main street without any trouble.
“Is this town even open?” Gemma asked uncertainly.
“Who is a city slicker now?” Brian joked as he surveyed the dark street. It was early evening by LA’s standards, but all the shop windows were dark. The wooden sidewalks were deserted. “I heard about places where they ‘roll up the sidewalk at night.’ Never seen one, but this must be pretty close.”
Gemma leaned forward. “Where’s the hotel? All of these buildings are short.”
It was a good question. “We’re supposed to drive through town and out to a fishing lodge on the lake.”
The front seat was dark, but the quick snap of Gemma’s head was easy to see. “Fishing lodge?” There was a wobble in her voice that would have made him smile if he didn’t understand a bit of her concern.
“That’s a hotel on a lake,” he said confidently.
That better be what it meant.
“Jordan Hearst suggested we stop and grab dinner tonight to bring with us before we leave town because they haven’t stocked the kitchen at the lodge. They’re waiting on my list.” Brian bent forward. “The Ace High is the name of the restaurant.”
As soon as he saw it and the lights burning inside, he pulled into a parking spot.
“Ace High. What does that mean?” Gemma asked as she studied the exterior. “What kind of food do they serve?”
Brian cleared his throat, aware that this might be another symptom of Gemma’s protected upbringing. She was a picky eater, so this answer was critical. “Prospect was a silver boomtown about a hundred and fifty years ago. Like in the Old West days. In the daylight, we’ll see these buildings as they were back then. Ace High is a poker hand, so I’m guessing this was a saloon. In those days, it was like a...bar.” He was pushing the limits of his memory of watching Western reruns. Gemma was nervously chewing her bottom lip, so he added, “Home cooking. That’s my guess. You’ll like it.”
Instead of arguing, she reached for the handle. “I’m hungry. Let’s give it a try.”
Her tone was resigned, so Brian had his doubts this was going to go well. What time did the grocery store close?
When they stepped inside, they were both relieved to find the decor rustic but spotless. The host stand and dining room were empty. The bells over the door rang before he could call out. After a minute, the swinging doors leading to the kitchen burst open and a petite woman bustled out, a long ponytail swinging with each determined step she took. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt with the restaurant name across the front.
“Hey there, we’d like to order some food to go.” Brian motioned around the empty dining room. “Is it always crowded like this?”
When she frowned, he realized his usual restaurant humor might not translate outside the city.
“It is when we’ve been closed for almost an hour, but because of a promise to a friend, someone had to wait around for a late arrival.” Her expression was polite, but he could read the irritation in her eyes. “I was getting your food ready after a very long, very busy day running the only full-service restaurant in town.” She held a stack of containers in one hand and offered him the other. “You’re Brian Caruso. I recognize you from the publicity shots.” Her handshake was firm and brisk. Brian nodded, caught in her blue eyes until she turned away. The woman set the other containers down and turned to Gemma. “I’m Faye, and you are?”
“Gemma. Gemma Caruso. His daughter,” she answered softly.
“It is nice to meet you, Gemma. Tonight we served our world-famous fried chicken with mashed potatoes, mac and cheese, and this new salad the chef is working on with brussels sprouts in it.” Faye leaned closer to Gemma. “Brussels sprouts are one of those divisive side dishes, you know? But whether you fall on the Yes side or the No side about them, this dish is pretty good.”
He’d never seen Gemma try a brussels sprout, but everything else Faye had said made the cut, so dinner was a win.
Brian pulled out a credit card and offered it to Faye, but she waved it off. The smile she offered him wasn’t any warmer.
“No need. I figured this is covered by the exorbitant fee the Cookie Queen Corporation is paying me to be your ‘local consultant’ while you’re filming here in Prospect. Plus, Sarah and Jordan Hearst are pals and neighbors. Otherwise, you would have had to cook your own dinner tonight.” She pulled off her apron. “If you’re ready to drive to the Majestic, I’ll show you the way. That’s how good a consultant I plan to be.”
Brian wanted to tell her he could follow the GPS, but she was gone before the first word made it past his lips. The kitchen doors were swinging and Faye returned before they settled again. “Ready?”
Instead of waiting for his answer, she marched to the door and motioned them through it. Brian glanced at Gemma as they hurried back to the SUV and pulled out to follow Faye through the dark streets of town.
“She’s intense, isn’t she?” Brian asked.
Gemma grinned. “I don’t know. She reminds me of you when you’re in the middle of the dinner rush.”
They shared a glance and they both said, “So, yes. Intense.”
“Lay off the jokes, Dad. The first one didn’t go over well,” Gemma added with a disapproving sniff. It was good advice, so there wasn’t any reason to dispute it.
He was certain they would have driven to the Majestic Prospect Lodge without much difficulty, but the deserted two-lane highway out of town gave the city boy in him the heebie-jeebies.
Not that he was going to admit that aloud. Gemma was clutching their to-go food like a lifeline already.
Following Faye’s taillights was reassuring when they drove down the lane sandwiched between tall trees that blocked out the stars. The opening on the other side was the one and only Majestic Prospect Lodge.
He hadn’t been completely correct about it being a hotel on the lake, but warm light glowed through the windows and there was smoke rising from the chimney. Instead of rising up, the building was spread out against a backdrop of dark mountains.
There were no big highways or skyscrapers lit up to dim the night sky, so the stars were clear and sharp. Had he ever seen a sky like this?
Faye was already beside him at the back of the SUV before he realized she was out of her car.
She moved quickly.
And silently.
“Let me help with Gemma’s bag.” She didn’t wait for him to hand it over but hauled both suitcases out of the trunk. “Jordan and Sarah will be inside. Let’s get you checked in so you can have dinner before it gets cold. You’re probably starving and this apple pie is going to change your life.”
Brian shook his head, wondering if the laws of polite society that said men carried their own bags were suspended in Colorado, as he watched Gemma hurry after Faye. They crossed a short bridge that overlooked a stream trickling down to the shadowy lake. He followed and braced himself for whatever the interior of a half-renovated fishing lodge might present. He would convince Gemma regardless that it made perfect sense and was all part of their exciting adventure.
He was in new territory, but so far, it had been a nice journey.
As long as the Majestic Prospect Lodge didn’t scare his daughter away, he was going to take advantage of this time with Gemma. Getting to know her better was his first priority. Helping the Hearsts out with this web series and the lodge restaurant was going to be simple enough.
His efficient consultant might have the whole job wrapped up before he even made it to the lobby.
