Colby eyed her sister’s lime-green sneakers and neon multicolored paisley top. “Not usually.”
“Just because I don’t work in a cubicle—and I dress with a bit of flair—doesn’t mean I didn’t learn anything from Dad and my mom. Trust me. I’ve got your back.” Gentry crossed her legs and lazily turned her top foot in small circles. “The problem is that the critic expected A CertainTea to be a carbon copy of Une Bouchée.”
“It might’ve been if I hadn’t insisted on something a bit more casual. Now Alec’s being penalized for that compromise.”
“It’s your restaurant, and nobody forced him to work there.”
“It’s more complicated than that, and you know it. He never would’ve lost Une Bouchée if Mark hadn’t made that stupid dare.”
“Again, not your fault. Besides, we can’t fix the past.” Gentry flicked her wrist, waving the history away as if it didn’t matter. “I say we go with the angle that the critic just didn’t get it. You and Alec weren’t trying to re-create Une Bouchée. You’re going for something hip, designed to appeal to a broader base, not a narrow band of critics.”
Colby conceded it was their best option. “Run with that, but don’t directly reference the review. Do it more like a promo piece.”
“See, I’m not an idiot.” Gentry grinned.
“I never said you were an idiot.”
“No, just ‘too intimidated’ to try.”
“I already apologized.” Colby squeezed Gentry’s thigh.
“I know. I’m just giving you a hard time.”
“I’ve had a hard enough time this weekend.”
“Sorry.” Gentry put on her futuristic-looking Dior sunglasses. Colby grinned because Gentry always looked like she jumped out of an editorial shoot in Vogue. “Well, I should get going.”
“Jake’s waiting for your return?”
“Yeah.” The lack of enthusiasm surprised Colby. “I’m not sure how much longer he’ll be in the picture. I’m a little bored.”
Colby refrained from clapping. “Oh?”
“Like I’ve said all along, I’m just out for a good time. At first it was fun to hang out all around the city and meet tons of people. The extra cash was nice, too. But it’s becoming ho-hum now. My friend Melanie wants to take a trip to Napa, and I’d like to be single for that. Soooo, time to break up with Jake.”
“Heartless!” Colby almost felt sorry for Jake.
“Better to leave than be left.” Gentry stood suddenly, as if she didn’t want to discuss that theory. “I’ll post something discreet to deflect attention from the review.”
“Thanks.” Colby hugged Gentry. “Let me know how it goes with Jake.”
“It’ll be anticlimactic. He’s no more invested than I am.” Her sister shrugged. “That’s what made him the perfect guy.”
“I don’t understand that, but I suppose it’s your life.”
“That it is, and now I’m off to live it up.” Gentry waved goodbye, her layered top flouncing in the breeze as her long legs ate up the pavement in lengthy strides.
For a brief moment, the appeal of living life without strings tugged at Colby. She’d sworn off complications after Mark’s death but somehow ended up inviting them into both her personal and professional lives. Worse, she’d tied those two together. Now, even if she wanted to change one, she couldn’t do it without affecting the other.
Wearing a smug smile, Colby’s mom picked another ripe tomato from the vine and set it in her basket. “And you thought I’d quit gardening by the end of summer. I love these fresh vegetables. Now I’m thinking instead of a stone fence. I should enclose it all in a greenhouse so I can garden year-round.”
“I stand corrected.” Colby clipped a squash from its vine, wondering what a greenhouse would cost her. Depending on the damage that review did, she might not be able to afford it at all. Shrugging off that concern, she held up the sunny vegetable. “These look amazing, Mom. What can we whip up for dinner with them? Pasta?”
Alec would be more creative, but she didn’t know when—or if—she’d hear from him again. Colby yanked a weed.
“I’d rather have dessert. Can Alec make something sweet with squash and tomato?” Her mom chuckled. “If anyone could, it would be him.”
Alec had attempted the oddest creations throughout his years of playing around with foods, textures, spices, and herbs—like the weird Cheetos broccoli dish last month. That memory prompted a bittersweet grin, because Colby sensed her relationship with Alec was poised for upheaval.
“Colby, what’s wrong? You look like you haven’t slept, and you’ve barely said four words in the past hour. Is it that stupid Gordon Jeffers?” Her mom set the basket aside.
“He didn’t help.”
“Alec’s taking it hard? I left a message for Julie, but she hasn’t called me back.”
Colby hadn’t told anyone about Frank and Julie’s troubles, so she hedged. “That review won’t send droves of customers through our doors. As for Alec . . .” They’d barely discussed it. He’d shut her out. Whether that was because he needed to lick his wounds, blamed her for interfering with the kitchen, or had simply been too busy with his mom, she couldn’t guess.
Her mom patted her shoulder. “Men’s egos are delicate, no matter how tough they act. We women—our skin may be softer, but it’s much thicker. Fairer sex, my ass. We can shoulder far more pain and disappointment than men, so be strong for him now. You’ve already proven that you can survive anything.”
Normally Colby shied away from compliments, but she’d earned that one. She had survived some gut-wrenching experiences. The kind of life lessons that put other disappointments in perspective. She’d help Alec learn to do the same.
“Thanks, Mom. Let’s change the subject and talk about something fun.” Colby lifted the basket of squash and followed her mom back to the house, hoping her mother’s special kind of kookiness might jar her out of her funk.
“Well, since we’re talking about men, I met a nice one this week. Thanks to you, actually.” Her blue eyes twinkled like a starry-eyed schoolgirl’s.
“Me?”
“Indirectly, yes. I went to Lamont’s Wines to rustle up some last-minute donations. I figured I could strong-arm Franny, of course. Well, Franny wasn’t there, but her brother, Rusty, was.”
Franny Lamont was a wiry mother of six. Her daughter, Angelica, had been in Colby’s grade, but that girl’s personality hadn’t matched her name’s promise.
“Franny has a brother?” Colby scoured her memory but couldn’t come up with a single one involving a Rusty Lamont. Of course, his last name wouldn’t be Lamont. “How have we never met him?”
“He just moved here from Sebastopol. His wife died about six months ago. His kids are grown and scattered, so he moved here for the less expensive cost of living.”
She, Alec, Rusty, her mom . . . seemed everyone was looking for a fresh start these days. “He told you all of this in the wine store?”