Or a flower.
It grew like a tree that had started as a fragile seed but now stretched toward heaven with heavy, fruit-filled limbs, a thick, sturdy center and roots that plunged deep in the dirt. Maybe his idea wasn’t totally crazy.
Maybe, just maybe, I’d started to realize how very brilliant he was instead.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I flung the door of Foodie open and practically threw the crates of food inside. Thank God, Killian had insisted I store them at Lilou because I was running way too late to have made it to the commissary today.
Granted, I decided my hours and if my customers had to wait, then so be it. Except I couldn’t get myself to relax! I’d stayed way too late at Killian’s this afternoon. Then I’d wasted even more time sitting on the edge of my bed thinking about his offer.
Killian Quinn wanted to open a restaurant with me.
With me.
He wanted to open a restaurant with me.
It was so crazy I almost didn’t believe it happened. Throw on top of it the offer to audition for Bianca? What was happening to the world!
This was the end. It had to be.
I leaned out the window and looked for the giant meteor on its way to obliterate Earth. Nothing. The North Koreans then.
It had to be.
Realizing I’d frozen, and instead of mise en place, I’d gone back to staring blankly while I tried to make sense of Killian’s offer, I shook myself out of the stupor and got to work.
Prepping everything for a night of orders took some time, and I lost myself in chopping, dicing, julienning and all the other knife-involved tasks. When Vann showed up three hours later, I was only just starting to believe I could open on time.
He stepped inside Foodie and whistled low. “Whoa, Vera. Last minute menu change?”
I wiped sweat from my brow with the towel tucked in my apron, pausing for a second to say hi to him. “I got a late start today.”
“I can see that.”
I rolled my eyes at my brother’s self-righteous attitude. As if he’d never been late to open Cycle Life. Please.
“If you want to help, I’m not going to stop you,” I told him.
He made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat but grabbed an apron anyway and tied it around his waist. “Give me a job.”
I grinned at him. “Don’t you just love learning all these new life skills? Just think, without me, you wouldn’t even be able to make your boring steel cut oats.”
He washed his hands which I interpreted as his expression of eternal gratitude. “Why are you so happy?”
“Happy?” I tried to suppress a smile. “Me?”
“Yeah, you. You’re like you used to be, all bubbly and shit. Why?”
“Bubbly and shit?”
He gave me a look. “Stop answering all of my questions by repeating my questions.”
I covered my stupid grin with my hand and turned away from him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Vera,” he chided. “Is this some weird after sex mood or something? Because that’s gross. I shouldn’t have to be subjected to this.”
He started to take off his apron, even though he’d just put it on. “Stop!” I held up a hand, the smile finally breaking free even though he was acting a fool. “Seriously, this has nothing to do with sex.” Mostly nothing to do with sex. “I’m just happy. Can’t I be happy?”
His expression softened. “You know I want you to be happy. It’s all I want for you.”
My smile stretched wider. “Thank you.”
He pointed at me. “But something else is going on. This isn’t just normal happy. This is psychotic happy. Are you on drugs?”
Groaning, I finally gave into the truth. “Ezra Baptiste asked me to audition for the head chef position at Bianca yesterday.”
Vann blinked at me. “You’re kidding?”
“I’m not.”
“That’s incredible, Vera! Congratulations!”
“I’m still freaking out. I can’t believe it.”
“Believe it, Vere. You deserve it.”
I stared at my brother, wondering what he would think of my next announcement. “There’s more.”
He laughed at the absurdity of there being more. “What?”
“Killian counter-offered. He wants me to open a restaurant with him.”
“Holy shit!” Vann exclaimed.
“I know.”
“He was serious?”
My eyebrows drew together at my brother’s doubt. “Yes, he was serious.”
“Right.” Vann nodded unconvincingly. “Of course he was.”
“Vann, he was.” I went on to explain our conversation last night and some of the sweeter things Killian had said and promised. I left out the more intimate details of course.
Vann listened attentively, absorbing my words with thoughtful consideration. I had been worried about sharing everything with Vann, but now I realized how silly that was. My brother was incredibly wise. I should have gone to him first when everything happened with Derrek. But I was so glad I came to him with this. I was a lucky little sister to have a big brother so willing to listen, so invested in her life. He was my hero. Hands down.
“What are you going to do? I mean, a restaurant with Killian? Kind of risky, huh?”
“Super risky. But Bianca would be too, I guess.”
Vann thought about it for a minute, rubbing his fingers along his jawline. “But the food truck is risky too, I suppose. You’re kind of gambling any way you decide.”
He was right. The food truck had no certain future. And the Bianca job wasn’t even a sure thing. It was just an offer based solely on Killian’s very biased opinion of me.
“That’s true.” My exuberant mood chilled into pensively serious. “It’s crazy right? Tell me it’s crazy.”
“Which thing? They’re all crazy to me.”
I smiled at my brother’s dry humor. I hoped it was humor anyway. “The Killian thing. I mean opening a restaurant with a man I’m only just getting to know? That’s insane.”
“You keep saying words like crazy and insane and risky, but Vera, the best things in life are all of those things. You can’t reap big rewards if you don’t take big risks.”
My stomach clenched with fear and anticipation. Also with hope. “What should I do?”
Vann stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a quarter. Rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger, he said, “Let’s take the food truck out of the equation for just a minute. We can add it back in later. But first, let’s tackle your two offers.” He held up the coin. “Heads it’s Bianca. Tails it’s Killian. Yeah?”
I sucked in a steadying breath. This was a technique he’d taught me a long time ago. “Yeah.”
Vann flipped the coin up in the air, the silver of the coin glinted against the steel ceiling of the food truck. Vann reached out to grab it, but I moved for it at the same time, suddenly afraid of what it would reveal. Our hands bumped into each other, causing both of us to miss.
The clinking of the quarter against the floor resounded through the galley like a fire engine. Or at least that was how it felt. We both looked down.
“Heads, Vera. Bianca.”
Vann raised his eyes to meet mine that had nearly bugged out of my head. “Heads,” I confirmed.