“I’d arrived just before his lunch hour. We were talking about the foundation, so he invited me to join him for lunch over at Lakeside Deli.”
Colby recognized that sparkle of interest in her mom’s eyes. The same look she’d had when first describing her poet warrior, Richard. “Do you think he’ll be different from Richard?”
“Who knows? You found Alec.” Her mom set the bucket of tomatoes on the table. “Maybe I’ll get lucky, too.”
Colby had originally thought she’d been lucky to meet Mark. She’d also thought she’d lucked into something special with Alec despite their complicated history. Now she might’ve inadvertently hurt his professional reputation and splintered his family. At this point, “lucky” didn’t exactly seem like the best cornerstone for a relationship.
“I hope Rusty appreciates your uniqueness, Mom.”
“We’ll find out soon. We’re going out on Thursday to a Portland Pickles game. He’s a huge fan.”
“Do you like baseball?” Colby grimaced.
“I like Rusty. Or I like him so far.” Her mom shrugged. “As for baseball, I don’t hate it.”
Colby sighed. “Maybe luck has nothing to do with good relationships. Maybe it comes down to honesty. Do me a favor. Don’t pretend to like baseball if you don’t actually like it. Better to end things early with the wrong man than try to force it to work.”
Instead of answering, her mom bent to retrieve a colander and then handed it to her. Colby was rinsing vegetables and thinking about her own situation. A pity party wouldn’t change one thing. She needed to confront Alec, even if that thought made her feel like someone tossed a lit match in her belly. “Mom, sorry to dash, but I need to find Alec.”
“Oh? I thought he’d come cook and talk about last-minute fund-raiser matters.”
“Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow.” The fund-raiser. One week away and currently the last thing on Colby’s mind. Her mother, however, had no idea about the Morgans’ recent separation. “See you later.”
She kissed her mom’s cheek and went to Alec’s apartment.
He answered the door looking ashen and exhausted. Worry lines bracketed his mouth. Even his cowlick looked defeated, sagging instead of springing from his forehead. “What are you doing here?”
Not the hugs and kisses she’d become accustomed to, but she stepped past him and into his apartment, anyway. “Checking on you. You weren’t returning my calls, and I’m worried about you and your family.”
He kept his hand on the doorknob and rested his forehead against the door. “My mom went to meet my dad for coffee in town, so I’m preoccupied. This isn’t the best time to talk, Colby.”
“Because of your parents or because of something else?”
He must’ve sensed she wasn’t leaving, so he finally closed the door. “If by something else you mean the review, then yes, that hasn’t helped.”
“It’s just one review, Alec. And Gentry and I have a plan—”
Alec waved his hands. “It’s too late. There’s no fixing it. The only way to overcome it at this point is to work twice as hard and hope maybe in another year you catch a break. But that review ambushed any chance that A CertainTea might’ve gotten any acclaim this year.”
“You’re angry.” She reached for him, but he didn’t reciprocate.
“Livid.” He stepped back and turned away, cracking his knuckles.
“With me?” She tensed, awaiting his response.
He faced her now, expression rigid, voice blade-sharp. “I’m angry with myself for going against the formula I knew would work.”
“I’m sorry about the menu, Alec. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed you to include anything, but it is my restaurant.” She looked down. “I should’ve warned you about the rumor . . .”
His chin came up sharply. “What rumor?”
If he’d been livid before, he’d be murderous now. “Gentry had mentioned that she’d heard ‘through the grapevine’ that the Trib’s reviewer might be coming that night.”
“When did she tell you that?” His eyes widened with betrayal.
“A couple of weeks ago.” Colby shrank back a bit in order to dodge the surge of contempt rolling off his body.
“Why didn’t you tell me? If I’d known, I would’ve—”
“Would’ve what?” She regretted that decision now, but she wouldn’t be bullied, either. His temper had been the reason that she hadn’t trusted him with that information, and that was his fault, not hers. “Ridden the staff even harder? Been anxious and overbearing every day? Why would I tell you about a rumor when I knew it would only force the staff to deal with your temper?”
“I could’ve made the menu perfect for the weekend. And maybe if you’d let me ‘ride the staff’ harder, they’d have been better prepared.” He shook his head, dismissing her rationale. “I can’t believe you think that you made the right decision. This is my career, Colby. You know how important it is to me, yet you hid information that might’ve helped me.”
His fists balled at his sides as he stared straight through her, clearly unable to comprehend her motives.
“I’m sorry, but I thought I was protecting you from yourself. It was right after your dad’s drunken night weeks ago, and Gentry couldn’t confirm it. I didn’t think you needed more stress when it seemed your attentions were better served helping your family.” The words sounded stupid and arrogant as they fell from her mouth. “Then we got busy with planning the fund-raiser, and it slipped my mind. Ultimately, you weren’t in the kitchen Saturday, anyway, so it didn’t really make a difference, did it?”
She braced for a major tantrum and almost fainted when, instead, Alec barked a laugh.
Colby gaped at him as if he’d lost his mind. Maybe he had. Two days of caring for his mom and walking a tightrope with his dad were bad enough. Then that review dealt a killing blow. Un-fucking-believable.
He cringed thinking about his colleagues reading it. Those chefs who’d once wanted to be him would now pity him for a second time. Would be convinced he’d lost his edge. In a way, he had. He’d let Colby influence how he did his job even though she had no experience in a kitchen or the industry.
He’d led with his heart, and now nothing was right. Not his family. Not his career. Not his relationship. Maybe his dad had a point about him lacking some essential element of manhood—courage. Courage to be honest about his mistakes, about who he was.
“Alec.” Colby reached for him again, but he couldn’t comfort her. Not now.
“Don’t.” This was a sign. A sign that he’d reached for too much too soon. “We need to take a step back, Colby.”
“Step back?”
None of his goals—his reputation, his family, Colby’s happiness—were viable. He’d been dishonest with everyone, and now they were all paying the price. It had to end, and he had to be strong enough to do it. “I went to the cemetery this afternoon.”