Page 98 of Riding the Curve

“Uh, yeah . . . It’s just, it’s a New York area code,” I stumble.

His brows furrow. “Carson?”

I shake my head. I had blocked his number the moment I got to the airport. Though I suppose he could be calling from someone else’s phone. My stomach twists in knots as the phone continues to ring in my palm.

“Answer it, Hen,” he says softly.

“So they want to fly you out to New York in two days?” Emerson asks quietly as we sit on the edge of the bed.

Once I’d realized who the call was from, I began walking back toward the cabin for privacy. Emerson had followed.

Seth James, owner and renowned chef of several innovative restaurants throughout New York, called to offer me an interview. When I asked how he had found out about me, he’d said that one of my former line chefs had moved to work with him right after I had left and constantly raved about me. When he reached out to my professors at the culinary academy, he said their references had been glowing.

This was more than just a normal interview, though. Seth was offering me a chance to become his new executive chef at one of his brand-new restaurants he’d be opening in just a few months. Their previous chef had decided to take another position at the last minute.

I would have free creative control. Could pick my own staff. Hell, if they hired me, they even offered to pay for an apartment for the first three months until I could get settled. None of these were opportunities I ever had under Sadie.

“Yes, they’re going to put me up in a hotel for a few days. They want to show me the restaurant and have me cook a full-course meal for them.”

He stops pacing the room and kneels directly in front of me. “This is an amazing opportunity, Henley. This is what you’ve always wanted. If you get the job, we’ll figure it out from there, remember?”

Still in shock and trying to let everything fully sink it, I don’t even realize that I never answer. His palms squeeze against my thighs, and I blink back to the moment.

Emerson holds my gaze as he lets out a heavy breath. “If you get the job, I’ll move out there with you. And if you don’t we will figure out another place for us to live, even if it’s here.”

“What?” The word whooshes out quickly from my lips.

“I want to be anywhere you are, Hen. I can’t bring myself to be apart from you for longer than we already have been. My job is a little more flexible than yours. I’m willing to figure out all the logistics, if you’d be willing to give living together a shot? I want you to pursue your dreams, but I want to be around you while you do it.”

“That’s a huge step, Em. Are you sure you are ready for that?”

“I’ve never been more ready. I want to be the one who makes you breakfast in bed and the only person to hear your soft snores at night while I hold you in your sleep. I want to be the first person to hug you when you walk through our door after a long, stressful day. I want to build a life with you, and I’ll do whatever I need to to make that happen. So, what do you think about my offer, Trouble?

“I would love that very much.”

A smile graces his lips, and he reaches between us and grabs my palms. His thumbs rove back and forth over the tops of my hands, gently lulling me back into a calm state.

To oversee my own restaurant has always been my dream, and here is the opportunity sitting right in front of me. There’s only one problem.

I’m not sure if it’s truly what I want any more.

“What if it’s not everything I hoped for?” I ask.

He cups the side of my cheek, tenderly stroking it with his thumb. “What if it’s everything you wanted and more? Maybe this time it’ll be different. And this time, you’ll have someone to rely on. This time, you’ll have me by your side.”

I lean forward, brushing my forehead lightly against his. “I’m scared.”

His smile wobbles. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t, too. But I don’t ever want to hold you back. I think if you didn’t at least give it a try, you’d regret it. I don’t want you to regret any more moments in this life, baby.”

His other hand comes up to cup the other side of my cheek. “So, are we doing this?”

“We’re doing this.”

Emerson presses a long, soothing kiss to my lips, easing the nerves trashing inside my stomach.

His phone vibrates.

“It’s my Dad. He said another shipment just came in and they need some more hands to unload it. You ready, or do you need a minute?”