Page 35 of Falling for the Grumpy Bad Boy

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CLEMENTINE

Relief flooded through me when I spotted the familiar faces across the VIP lounge. Rhett, Simone, and Conroy were seated at a corner table that looked like they were in the middle of an intense business discussion. I considered walking away, pretending I didn’t see them, but we were all going to the same place. They were basically my coworkers now.

And honestly I was a nervous flyer. Seeing familiar faces felt like a gift.

Dad wasn’t coming on the tour, which meant I was on my own. Dad was holding down the fort in New York. He couldn’t just up and leave Mom alone with Henry, especially with football scouts coming to watch him play over the next few weeks. Henry’s future was riding on these games, and Dad needed to be there for the family.

We had talked the night before, and he had been clear about what this opportunity meant for me and my future. The tour could be the break I needed.

That was assuming I didn’t irritate the hell out of Rhett and he didn’t send me packing. Or put me on prep duties. He might kick me out of the kitchen. I had to remember to keep my mouth shut.

My dad’s voice echoed through my mind. “After what you did at La Tavola, I’m putting you in Conroy’s shoes. If we have to do damage control after? I will. But I believe in you.”

The weight of that trust meant a lot. I wanted to prove I belonged in their world. That I wasn’t just Desman Hartley’s daughter riding on family connections.

I took a deep breath and wheeled my suitcase toward their table.

Simone looked up first, her face breaking into a genuine smile. “Clementine! What a lovely surprise.”

“Hi,” I said, suddenly feeling awkward. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”

“Not at all,” Simone said, gesturing to an empty chair. “Please, join us. We were just going over the tour logistics.”

Conroy gave me a friendly wave with his good arm. “Hey, Clem. Good to see you again.”

But Rhett? He looked like I’d just crashed his private funeral. His dark eyes flicked over me with something that might have been annoyance before returning to whatever was on Simone’s tablet screen.

The guy was such an asshole. His personality changes were hard to keep up with. Asshole. Knight in shining armor. Loving son. Back to asshole.

“So you’re coming on the tour?” Simone asked as I settled into the chair.

“Apparently,” I said, glancing at Rhett’s rigid profile. “Dad thought it would be good experience. And with Conroy unable to help, he thought I could step in.”

“We are so glad you are here,” Simone said. “Though I have to ask—are you prepared for what this entails? The pace is going to be brutal. Different city every few days, new kitchens, new teams, media pressure.”

“I can handle it,” I said, though my stomach fluttered with nerves.

Rhett finally looked at me. His expression was so dark it gave nothing away. “Can you?”

The dismissive tone in his voice made my spine straighten. How dare he question my ability after I already showed him I could keep up?

He wasn’t going to intimidate me. If I was going to work with men like him, I couldn’t let him bully me.

“Yes. I can.”

“We’ll see,” he said flatly, already turning his attention back to the tablet.

Conroy raised his good arm in a mock toast with his coffee cup. “Welcome to the big leagues, kid. Try not to let this one scare you off.” He nodded toward Rhett.

Last night, we worked together like a well-oiled machine. There had been moments in that kitchen when I felt like we were operating on the same wavelength, anticipating each other’s needs with an almost telepathic connection. Now he was treating me like I was invisible.

“Miami’s venue is completely different from La Tavola,” Simone continued, either not noticing or choosing to ignore the tension. “Much bigger space, more formal dining room, different style of service. You’ll need to adapt quickly.”

“We’ll be serving two to three times the number of people,” Rhett said without looking at me.

“I can handle it,” I said, trying to project more confidence than I felt.