A mix of anger and anguish, so raw it hurt her heart, tore through his voice.
“I’m sorry, Alec. About your family, about the bad timing tonight. But getting worked up now won’t change anything. My finances are wholly tied to A CertainTea, and yet I’m not ranting.” We still have each other. Even as she thought the words, she knew not to say them. Not now, when they’d sound trite—even condescending—given his current state of mind.
“I told you before, the executive chef gets all the credit and all the blame. You can fire me and get a new chef. A CertainTea will go on, with or without me. My reputation follows me wherever I go.” Alec fell silent, so she waited, listening to the sound of his breath through the phone. “I can’t talk about this now. My mother needs me.”
“Should I stop by after closing?”
“Thanks, but I’m exhausted, and I doubt my mom wants company.” Alec sighed. “For all I know, my dad may come storming over later to drag her home. Seeing you wouldn’t help. I’ll call you in the morning.”
Heaviness bunched up in her chest. He might not have meant for his offhand remark to hurt her, but it had. “This wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t involved with me.”
When he didn’t respond, she let out a long sigh, hoping the release would ease the ache in her lungs.
“I don’t regret the time we’ve spent together.” Alec’s words might’ve been reassuring if his voice hadn’t sounded so hopeless.
“Take tomorrow off to help settle your mom.” They needed time to regroup, and she didn’t want Alec taking out his frustrations on the staff. “We’ll manage brunch without you.”
A sour laugh came through the line. “Guess the damage is already done.” After another muttered curse, he said, “I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault.”
Would he think that if he knew that she’d ignored the rumor? Now would be the worst time to tell him, though. “Alec, maybe the review will be fantastic, and you’ll see that you’ve got a whole team to count on. That you’re not alone.”
A beat of silence passed. “Let’s just talk tomorrow. My family has to be my priority right now.”
Colby hung up and cradled her head in her hands. The navy-blue fund-raiser invitation, edged with silver glitter, lay on her desk, taunting her. The Maverick Foundation and its potential for good had inadvertently caused irreparable harm.
Two years later, the aftershocks from their families’ tragedies were still wreaking havoc. What would they claim next?
Chapter Nineteen
Anyone familiar with award-winning Executive Chef Alec Morgan would expect a select yet ambitious seasonal menu at A CertainTea, a new restaurant located on the east shore of Lake Sandy. Surprisingly, its menu lacked cohesion—the first sign that his much-anticipated return would not fulfill the promise of his former glory.
Colby set the paper down again, unable to read the full review a third time. Statements like “time off left him rusty” and “inconsistent presentation” ping-ponged inside her head and would be like a knife to Alec’s chest. That bit about the menu lacking cohesion—totally her fault. Alec had only added that fried-chicken dish to please her. Now he’d suffer public humiliation, because that review was not at all what he would’ve hoped for, or what he’d be proud for his peers to read.
She stared out her living room window at the foggy skies. For the past few weeks, Monday mornings had involved waking up wrapped in Alec’s arms, fabulous breakfasts followed by reading while he worked on a puzzle, like the partially finished one taking up half her dining table now, maybe a stroll to Powell’s or along the Willamette.
This one, gray and silent, seemed lonelier than the years of Mondays sandwiched between Mark’s death and her new relationship with Alec. He’d barely spoken with her yesterday, so she’d given him and his mother space to recover. Doubtful he’d be more interested in speaking with her today after he read the review.
She ripped the newspaper in half, crumpled it into balls, and tossed it in the trash. No use focusing on things beyond her control. Time to take action where she could, beginning with A CertainTea’s response to that damn critic. She’d need Gentry’s help with that. Fortunately—or not, depending on one’s perspective—Gentry was mere minutes away at Jake’s apartment.
Colby grabbed her keys and ambled through several blocks of heavy fog to meet her sister at a park bench on West Burnside. She cooled her heels while waiting for Gentry, who apparently believed clocks were invented as a mere curiosity. When her sister finally arrived, she’d tossed a Voodoo doughnut in Colby’s lap as a peace offering.
Sugar typically did the trick, but even a Lemon Chiffon crueller doughnut didn’t much lift Colby’s spirits this morning.
“Chill out, Sis. It wasn’t a terrible review. In fact, it might even get some people to come see if they agree or not.” Gentry flicked the fallen purple sprinkles from her Grape Ape doughnut off her skirt. “Even if it had been shitty, one crap newspaper review isn’t going to tank your business. Look at Yelp and TripAdvisor. In less than a month, you’ve racked up almost a hundred reviews, with an average of 4.4 stars.”
“Alec cares about real critics’ opinions.” Jeffers’s review likely tanked Alec’s wish to be in the running for another James Beard Award this year and next. If only she hadn’t convinced him to change the menu, or altered his management tactics. If she’d just warned him that the critic might show up that very night.
If, if, if. If she hadn’t interfered on so many levels, might Chris and the others have performed better on Saturday? Or had Alec’s original tactics caused the problem? More confounding what-ifs that would never be answered. “His reputation means everything to him. He’s worked so hard. His personal involvement with me and the foundation are basically why he wasn’t there Saturday night. I should’ve warned him about the rumor.”
“Stop.” Gentry slapped Colby’s leg. “You’re more important to Alec than some stupid critic and awards from anonymous people.”
“Don’t be sure. Those ‘anonymous people’ make and break careers. Alec’s self-esteem is tied to his talent and reputation. Losing Une Bouchée broke him before. I could throw up from thinking about how he’ll handle another perceived failure.”
“We’ll spin this stupid Jeffers review. Alec wasn’t even working.”
“That doesn’t matter. It’s his kitchen, and we’ll look desperate if we try to blame the problems on his absence.”
“Everyone who’s eaten there knows the restaurant rocks.” Gentry scowled, licking the last bit of icing from her fingertips. “We’re not going to let one turd with an attitude have the final word.”
Colby couldn’t help but laugh. Humor felt oddly out of place yet wonderful given the past couple of days. “Before you put anything out there, I want to see it. We need to be tactful.”
“You think I can’t be subtle?” Gentry’s brows rose.