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"Just thought it was worth mentioning."
"Zachary," I cautioned.
"Don't you dare warn me about anything. I know how to conduct business." And that he did. Which begged the question, why did he bring that up at all? I decided to switch topics.
"All right, I’ll catch you later in the meeting. By the way, don't bring up this issue with the grans and Scarlett.”
"Why not?" he asked.
"Because then it'll turn into a debate about how to handle it."
"But the more opinions, the better," Zachary said.
"Not when we have a business decision to reach. We don’t need this on the docket.”
"You're right. All right, talk to you later."
After we hung up, I checked the calendar. The call with my brothers was at five, but I could move it to earlier in the afternoon. That way, I could pick up my girl and take her for beignets. That would make both our days.
And then I had to find a way to protect Scarlett from my grandmothers before tomorrow morning.
Chapter Two
Scarlett
"Welcome to New Orleans, Ms. Jones."
"Thank you," I told Charles, my realtor.
My studio was on the small side, but the rent was decent. Besides, I couldn't find anything else with only a six-month lease. After my probation ended at the restaurant, I'd look for a bigger place. This opportunity was just meant to be—I felt it in my bones. Not only was this my first position as a chef, but it was also in New Orleans. I’d dreamed of living here forever—it was a chef’s dream; the cuisine so rich and intricate. I couldn’t wait to go out and explore the city. I was buzzing with energy.
"All right. Well, everything is set,” he said. “If you need anything, call me, but there shouldn't be any issues."
"Sure, Charles. Thanks!" I closed the door behind him and turned around again, looking at my space. It was cozy, and I loved it!
I had so much to do today. Tomorrow morning was my very first day, so I had to get everything in order.
Heading to the section of the room where I’d left my luggage, I inspected the dresser and immediately realized I had a problem. I’d brought two huge suitcases full of clothes for every occasion, and this dresser was far too small. I'd have to find something to put my stuff in. A mobile rack, maybe.
I turned around once. My studio really was tiny. There was a bed and the couch in one corner and a table with two chairs in the other one, right next to a small kitchen. As a chef, I adored large kitchens, but I was going to spend most of my time at LeBlanc & Broussard's, anyway. They assured me I could have all my meals there, too, which was very generous. That meant I didn't have to cook much at home.
As I put the contents of one bag into the dresser and the bathroom, I was starting to get dangerous ideas. Since I obviously couldn't unpack all my clothes today, I suddenly had more free time than I’d thought. I could start exploring the city right away.
I was still wearing the same clothes I’d put on this morning: jeans, a T-shirt hanging off one shoulder, white socks, and Vans. I didn’t want to waste time changing. Even though I’d been feeling tired only a few minutes ago, I was suddenly filled with energy. I'd gotten up at the crack of dawn, too excited about my move to sleep. I was super anxious to begin exploring the city and to leave Seattle behind. There was nothing there except heartbreak. Good riddance.
Well, my parents were there as well, but they'd been extremely happy when I told them about this job offer. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I wasn't even sure how I got it. A restaurant like LeBlanc & Broussard’s could easily employ an experienced chef, and I’d only been a sous-chef until now. But I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. It was a fantastic opportunity, and I would make the most of it.
I checked my appearance in the small mirror hanging by the front door. My dark brown hair had an unusual curl, and I wondered if that was because of the humidity in the air. Usually, my hair was as straight as could be, but right then it looked unruly. I squinted and pouted at the same time, snapping a pic of myself and sending it to my bestie, Ariana. I felt a little bit silly, but she loved me with all my quirks. She replied quickly.
Ariana: Finally. I was starting to worry. Apartment looks good?
I took a few pictures and sent them.
Scarlett: Yep. Just as advertised.
Everything had happened so fast that I didn't have time to come down here to scout things out, and she’d been worried that I might get scammed or something.
Ariana: That’s good. No nasty surprises?
