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“We all are, but something else has turned you inside out.”
She averted her eyes. “This trip I realized I’ve learned all that’s necessary about wine. I’m ready to go into restaurant management, like you.”
He scoffed. “Tell me another story. You don’t walk in here and drop a bomb like that expecting to get away with it.
“For one thing, Bella Lucia already has too many managers all in one family.”
“Agreed. I’m planning to hire on with another kind of restaurant altogether and work my way up.”
“That’s bull.”
“Just stand back and watch me.”
After a brief silence, “Okay. It’s obvious something bad has happened to you. I can handle it if you don’t want to tell me about it. Just don’t let Dad get wind of your new plans. He’ll view it as high treason.”
No, Max. High treason involves murdering the soul. That honor has gone to a certain unforgettable Frenchman.
His gaze darted to her purse. “Your cell phone’s ringing.”
Yes, she knew. It had been ringing on the hour for the last twenty-four.
“Aren’t you at least going to see who it is?”
She smoothed a lock of hair away from her temple. “No one knows I’m back yet, so it can wait. Has Emma come in? I have a present for her too.”
He nodded. “In the dining room going over tonight’s menu with the sous-chef and rest of the kitchen staff.”
“Thanks, brother dear.” Sharing the same difficult father with Max and Emma made Rachel and her half-siblings close. There was strength in unity. “See you tomorrow when I’m officially back.”
“Rachel?”
She paused in the doorway of the office.
“I’m here if you need to unload.”
There was no way she could tell him about the nightmarish scene in Luc’s kitchen. Madame Chartier’s revelations had crushed her world to grist.
“I love you for saying that. By the way, consider that I’ve just given you my notice. If you don’t find a new wine buyer for Bella Lucia in the next few weeks I’m sorry, but I’ll be gone.”
Without sayi
ng anything else she moved through the back hallway to the dining area of the restaurant.
It was classic Georgian on the outside, the recently refurbished interior reflecting neutral walls and a chic, understated sophistication.
Though Rachel liked it well enough, she agreed with her grandfather who’d preferred the original Italian décor. But he was a business genius and knew not to stand in the way of progress.
Her grandfather.
She needed him. Now more than ever.
As soon as she’d talked to Emma, she would go straight over to his house in St John’s Wood and spend the rest of the day with him.
She walked around the linen-covered tables toward the group of seven seated near the kitchen doors. Rachel gave a small wave to Emma, whose honey-blond head had turned in her direction.
Emma must have said something to the others. They all called out greetings and welcomed her back before leaving her and Emma alone.
Rachel rushed forward and hugged her diminutive half sister. “How’s Grandfather?” she asked after they’d let go of each other.
