Her sister flashed the quick, eager grin Colby remembered from the days when Gentry had desperately tagged along behind her and her teenage friends. “Okay.”
“Good.” Colby slid a report across the table. “Read this market demographics report and think about how we might best reach our target audience. Take a stab at crafting some press releases, and we’ll meet back here in a few days to discuss your ideas. Initially I’ll retain oversight just to make sure we’re on the same page in terms of the brand image, but once I’m comfortable, you can run the show.”
Gentry wrinkled her nose. “Reports are so boring.”
“But necessary. Preparation is key, okay? Promise this won’t sit on your dresser until ten minutes before we next meet.”
“I thought you trusted me to have your back.” Gentry’s smile faded.
“I do. But don’t pretend you’re not easily distracted, especially by guys. Speaking of that, what’s the deal with Jake?”
“What did Dad say?” Gentry’s green eyes sizzled despite the cool, clipped tone of her voice.
“He’s eager to see you settled with something, and someone, stable.”
“It’s a little late for my mom and him to start being parents, don’t you think?” Gentry stuffed the report in her bag. Before Colby could reply, her sister declared, “Jake’s great. He’s sexy, fun, independent, and he doesn’t treat me like an afterthought.”
Alec arrived before Colby could further explore Gentry’s motives.
“Good morning,” he said, gaze falling on Colby.
Such a handsome face. The stray thought rattled Colby. Thankfully, he hadn’t noticed because he’d become distracted by her sister.
“Gentry.” His eyes widened. “It’s been a while. I can’t believe how you’ve changed.”
Colby’s body tensed when her sister gave him an appreciative once-over.
“So have you.” Gentry’s saucy smile returned. She stood and hugged Alec, subtly thrusting her ample cleavage forward, as if he might somehow miss it on his own. “The idea of working here just got a whole lot more interesting.”
“You’ll be working here?” Alec’s brows rose.
“You didn’t get my text?” Colby asked.
He grimaced and shook his head.
“Alec, charge and carry your phone!” Colby heaved a sigh.
“I’ll do better.” He turned back to Gentry. “Will you be waitressing?”
Colby knew Alec well enough to recognize the concern in his expression.
“Hell, no. Would this manicure survive carrying all those trays around?” Gentry held up a hand and wiggled her bejeweled fingers. At least she was honest.
“In the kitchen?” Alec spoke with the level of caution required to navigate a minefield.
“Ha! You do remember who my mother is, right? The only thing I can do back there is reheat leftovers.” Gentry proudly embraced her spoiled life. Then again, she didn’t know anything different. The shopping, the frequent dining out, the weekly mani-pedi—all of that was her norm.
“Gentry’s going to help me in the office and with our social media.” Colby exchanged a knowing glance with Alec.
“Ah. Sounds like a plan.” He nodded, clearly relieved not to have to train her. “I’ll leave you two to talk. I’ll be testing new menu items with the staff today.”
“Good luck.” Gentry flirtatiously touched his arm before he made off to the kitchen. Once he was out of sight, she shot a wide-eyed gaze Colby’s way. “He looks good.”
“I think he’s finally coping with Joe’s death and losing Une Bouchée.” Colby hoped so, anyhow.
“No, I mean he looks good.” The purr in Gentry’s voice grated on Colby’s nerves. “Hot!”
“What about Jake?”
Gentry shrugged. “Dad always says it’s important to keep your options open.”
“Alec is off-limits.” Her staccato delivery caught Gentry off guard. In truth, it caught Colby off guard, too. “We can’t have coworkers getting together. That’s bad for business. Got it?”
Her sister raised her hands in surrender. “Okay. But you’d better have an all-male staff if you expect that rule to be followed.”
“I’ve hired mature, career-oriented waiters, and the two women cooks on staff are married.”
“Phfft.” Gentry rolled her eyes. “As if that ever stopped anyone.”
“When did you become so jaded?”
“Not jaded. Realistic. Look around. Your parents divorced. Mine work more than they have any fun. You may have had a good marriage until everything with Mark and Joe happened, but not everyone is that lucky.”
Good marriage. Lucky. The front she and Mark had put up in order to hide his diagnosis. Neither term applied, though, no matter how great of a snow job she’d pulled off.
She’d tried to make it true. Given every part of her heart and soul to her marriage. Patiently cleaned up after he’d do things like spray down the entire condo with fire extinguishers in order to “reveal” the ghosts he believed haunted him. Clung to the shining moments of Mark’s generous spirit and surprising bursts of romance. Voraciously read about his illness and tried to implement different coping strategies, hoping he would be like many other bipolar sufferers and learn to manage his illness and his life.
But in the murky places of her heart, she’d blamed Mark for not committing to treatment. Worse, she’d blamed herself for being unable to motivate him to stick with therapy and medication like other spouses in her shoes could.
In that light, loneliness seemed safer than entrusting her future happiness to any man.
Colby swatted the depressing memories away like flies even as they deepened her concern for her sister. “Promise me you won’t rush into anything.”
“What part of keeping my options open suggests that I’m rushing into anything?” Gentry grabbed her purse. “I’ve got to run. I’ll read this report and come up with a plan. Maybe I’ll swing by the day after next and get some photos. I think it’s supposed to be sunny.”
“Thanks, Gentry.” Colby stood and offered her sister a hug. “This will be good for both of us.”
“Unless we end up like my mom and Hunter.” Gentry snickered. “Just kidding. See you later!”
She flounced off, her little skirt swishing around her thighs, loose curls flowing down her back. Colby sat and drew a deep breath to quiet the fear that hiring her sister might be the best and worst decision of her week.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Alec barked at the sous chef, Chris, his voice reverberating off the metal surfaces in the kitchen. “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry!”
“Why?” Chris shot him a vexed look.
Alec pointed at the meunière sauce smeared on the outer lining of the dish. “Does that look spotless to you? Do you think any customer wants to pay thirty-eight dollars for a dish and have it served looking so sloppy?” He whirled around on the chef de entremetier. “And do these first courses look consistent? Don’t answer. I will. They don’t. This one, too much sauce. This one, wilted chiffonade. That one isn’t properly seared!”
“You didn’t even taste them.” Chris flipped his palms heavenward, defending his subordinate.
“I don’t need to, because I wouldn’t let any of these items leave this kitchen. Look at them!”