“They were fearless,” Alec admitted. Both men had other traits he hadn’t respected, but they were brave.
“Mark feared things, but he pushed through it. I usually liked that about him.” Her wistful tone reawakened the remorse he’d suppressed. The letter. The damned letter he wished he’d never opened. Guilt filled his lungs like the hot air inflating the nylon balloon.
Alec didn’t want to share this experience with Mark or Joe. This moment was his and Colby’s. He wanted to be the only man with her as she rediscovered herself and embraced excitement, life, and even love. His love. God, he wanted her to love him.
He stepped closer and pulled her back to his chest, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this experience as much as you’d hoped.”
“And I’m glad I’m sharing it with you.” She settled her head on his shoulder and continued observing the scenery while he kept a tight hold on her.
“It’s so quiet,” he said after several minutes spent drifting across the sky.
“Dead quiet,” she agreed. “Except for when the pilot turns on the gas.”
“The whole world looks different from up here. Reminds me that life is full of infinite possibilities.”
She turned her face toward his, wearing a broad smile. “‘Infinite possibilities’ sounds great. Do you forgive me for forcing you out of bed so early on our day off?”
He chuckled and kissed her. “Yes, although I hope not all of our adventures will require predawn departures.”
They drifted along for forty minutes, occasionally speaking with the pilot, until he glided them to a fairly smooth landing. The basket butted against the ground once or twice before the crew members waiting for them got involved.
After settling the bill, they climbed into the SUV to catch a ride back to where they’d originally parked. Once they parted from the crew, she hugged him. “I love that we did that. Next we should work on that Adam Levine wish.”
He jokingly frowned. “If he weren’t married, I might get jealous of your infatuation.”
She chuckled. “I’m still a teenager at heart when it comes to rock stars.”
Alec mockingly grabbed his chest as if stricken, and she kissed him and got in the car.
A mile or two later, she pointed at a run-down diner. “Let’s grab breakfast here. We can talk about the foundation.”
Sketchy diner aside, he’d rather go home and laze around on their day off, but they had too much to do. He repressed a shudder at the thick film on the diner floor and led Colby to a booth in the rear of the restaurant. “I can’t believe how much you’ve accomplished already.”
Colby snorted. “Your mom’s a force of nature! I’m surprised your dad hasn’t complained about all the time she’s put into planning the party.”
So was Alec. In fact, he suspected his dad didn’t know. “She’s committed. It makes her feel closer to Joe.”
“It was an inspired idea, yet you shy away from taking credit and a more prominent role.” She then wrinkled her nose and teased, “Quite a change from the egomaniac who runs the kitchen.”
“I’ve been restraining myself somewhat and doling out praise like you asked.” He couldn’t help himself and added, “Honestly, they’d be further along if you let me handle them my way.”
“Without any encouragement I think they’d all quit to avoid those times when the whole restaurant feels like an earthquake zone.” She paused. “You sort of become like your dad when you’re in the kitchen.”
That was not a compliment, and he knew it. “My job is to require perfection.”
“It’s not your job to demean the other cooks.” She pressed her lips together in what he guessed was an attempt to stave off more lectures.
“I’m not demeaning, just demanding.” He frowned. “Have they complained?”
“No, but given our relationship, I doubt they’d feel comfortable coming to me now.”
“My style may be exhausting, but you’ll all be proud when we win awards.”
Instead of beaming, Colby fidgeted with the saltshaker. She did this—sighed and averted her gaze—whenever she was gearing up to say something he wouldn’t appreciate. The anticipation only heightened his anxiety.
“I wish you believed that we could be happy and create a restaurant people love even if A CertainTea never earns a single award. That adding a couple of normal options on the menu wouldn’t ruin the restaurant. Gab-n-Eat is a town favorite, and it’s far from perfect.” Colby stared at him, her eyes filling with concern. “When you flip out over wilted chiffonade, I worry that you can’t be happy without an award.”
Acclaim wasn’t a goal he was willing to concede. “I’ve lived and breathed this industry my entire adult life. Paid my dues in ways you can’t conceive. Earned a reputation people dream of, only to have lost it. I’m not in this for ‘happiness,’ Colby. I’m in this because it means something to me. It defines me. Being the best at it is my goal, and I’ll give it everything I have. I’d think you’d like that about me, considering how assertive Mark was.”
Colby sat back as the waitress brought her short stack of blueberry pancakes and Alec’s coffee—bitter coffee that had obviously been burning in an old pot. Meanwhile, Colby merely pushed her fork at the short stack rather than attack it like he’d expected.
“What’s wrong?”
Colby looked up. “I don’t want to re-create my relationship with Mark. And I certainly don’t want you to emulate him.”
“What do you want?” To date, most of their time and effort revolved around work and the foundation. She’d hardly confided anything personal. He had no clue of the depth of her commitment to him, if any, even as he continued to put his career and family on the line for her.
“I want peace.”
“Doesn’t the fact that I’m on top of things at work give you peace of mind about your investment?” He leaned forward, trying to read her thoughts. “I’ve made compromises for you, but don’t ask me to give up my dreams, Colby.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” She looked around as if the words she needed would pop out from behind another booth. The only thing she’d likely find behind a booth in this joint was a cockroach. “There are lots of things that define you, Alec, not just this job. When you think your entire worth rests on being ‘the best,’ I worry that this quest for perfection is actually some way of proving something to your dad. If his opinion never changes, can you accept that?”
She looked sincerely concerned, so he shouldn’t be insulted. He shouldn’t be, but he was. Perhaps his dad’s respect played some role in that goal, but it wasn’t the only one, and he didn’t need her psychoanalyzing him, either.
He held up his scarred hands. “You think I’ve spent the last fifteen years earning these scars just to win my dad’s love?”