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“Alexei?”
“Yeah. Anton and Alexei are Russian. Their parents sent them to live with a hockey coach and his family in America when they were little so they could have a better life. So in terms of blood family, Anton and Alexei only have each other. No one can piss Anton off like Alexei.”
“I see. And Alexei’s been making headlines lately—none of them good.”
“Right. Anton feels like Alexei is pissing away his career and his life.”
Durand nods. “It helps to know that, thanks for telling me. And I won’t share it with anyone else.”
Our server delivers bread and takes our order. The mood is lighter now. I need to finish this lunch with Durand, but I’m also dying to go tell Reese about his offer to back a shelter and restaurant in Chicago.
“Knox,” Durand says, “I do have one request for this shelter we’re going to build.”
It’s we, even though he’s the one funding it. Durand really must be as nice and generous as he seems.
“What’s that?”
“I’d like my mother to be there in some way.” He looks wistful. “She’s been gone for many years now, but her memory is dear to me. I’d like the shelter to be named after her, or for a photo of her to hang in the lobby. Just…something to make her a part of it. She came from nothing and she’d approve of it.”
“I think that’s a great idea. What was her name?”
“Madeleine.”
“I know Reese will want her included.”
Durand gives me a wry smile. “This woman seems to have broken through the walls of Fort Knox.”
“She most definitely has.”
“Well, I hope my offer will solve your problem.”
“I have a feeling it will,” I say. “Well, one of the problems, at least.”
The other one, I’m hoping to solve on my own, and soon.Chapter Twenty-FourReeseAs soon as I close my apartment door behind me, I kick off my shoes and walk into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of wine. Within a minute, I’ve uncorked it, poured myself a glass and I’m sitting in my recliner with my feet up.
I’m not tired in the physical sense. But another part of me is worn down. When I first came to Magnolia, I loved my work there. I was hired to push boundaries, creating desserts grander and showier than any other restaurant in Chicago.
I perfected my bourbon caramel sauce and created the perfect recipe for strawberry-lemon meringue cake. My chocolate baskets have a devoted following that reaches outside of the city and even the state.
But lately, I’ve started to feel like I’ve reached the top of the mountain. Everything I’ve ever wanted to do in this job, I’ve done. And while I’ve loved it, I’m longing for something more.
My favorite work days are the ones I spent at the shelter, teaching women how to cook and being a tiny part of their growth. Last week I taught a fifteen-year-old boy whose mom is disabled how to cook a few dinners on a budget. He told me about his family’s sad path to the Women’s Mission as we peeled and chopped. The look of pride on his face when he served his mom and sisters the beef stew I taught him to cook brought tears to my eyes.
I did that, I thought as I watched them eat their meal together. It was a better feeling than any culinary award or five-star review. I helped people who needed it. And somehow, it ended up helping me more than them.
Going back to work the next day at a place where dinner for two costs at least $300 was a hollow feeling. I had a revelation as I zested a lemon that I no longer want to use my baking skills to be the best pastry chef I can be. I want to put my experience to work becoming the best person I can be.
Which means going to New York. But then I’d have to leave Knox. And as much as his offer of a long-distance relationship means to me, it’s not what either of us really wants.
Eric was always reminding me that he needed space. Space to be alone, space to be with just his friends, space to catch up on work. But Knox wants to be with me. Sometimes we snuggle on the couch and neither of us says much. It’s kind of like being alone together, I guess. And if he has plans with friends, he always asks me to come.
Being in love with Knox—with anyone—is scary for me. But I don’t want to run away from it anymore. Since I met him in Hawaii, I’ve been assuming it couldn’t work for so many reasons. He’s a pro hockey player, he travels all the time, and now…I’m most likely going to New York.
But at work today it dawned on me, clearer than anything ever has. It’s because of all those things that I belong with him. Instead of going the easy route, he’s choosing the hard route with me. He’s willing to travel across states to see me if that’s what it takes.
