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My lips curled into a smile at her reminder. “Not so much. Usually Derek and Roman are happy to answer questions and smile for the camera.”
Pippa nodded, but there was no smile at the memories of how I used to tremble in fear at the idea of speaking in public. All I ever wanted to do was sing. “Luckily, you know most of these people so it should be easy enough to chat a little, to welcome them to your restaurant.”
“Feel free to have some,” I told her and motioned to the small plates scattered around the table.
“No thanks, I sampled the menu earlier this week,” she said absently and pulled a sheet of paper from her leather folder. “I created a list of things you might want to mention, especially when you talk to the press.” She handed me a sheet filled with about a dozen bullet points.
“What’s all this?” It looked to me exactly what I hated about dealing with the press, the whole interaction was so forced. So phony. “I don’t do talking points.”
Pippa’s nostrils flashed briefly before she banked her emotions once again with the help of a long sigh. “Consider them points of gratitude, then, for the invitation designer, the local brewers and vintners who were eager to help out another local business owned by a local.” When I said nothing, she sighed again and tapped the paper. “Be sure to mention that you and Margot attended school together, and that this venue space will invigorate the local economy, which means a lot to you since this town gave you your start.”
I blinked up at her, brows dipped in confusion. “You said you didn’t know I was the owner.”
“I didn’t. I had a rough draft completed and edited it once I found out who the owner was.”
“Wow,” I sighed in awe. “You are good.”
Pippa nodded, but said nothing in response to my compliment. “Just be sure to remember the names of the businesses and people. You’ll look like you’re too good for this place if you have to refer to notes.”
Her words burned. “I don’t think I’m too good for this place. This is my home. One I returned to often.” It was an unnecessary dig, I knew that, but dammit I wanted to get a rise out of this woman.
She ignored the barb directed at her. “I said you’ll look that way. You know how the press can be, and I want nothing but positive stories about tonight.” Pippa stood and tapped the bottom of the page. “Use these hashtags when you post on social media tonight.”
I blinked. “Social media?”
“Yes, to generate a buzz about Ryan Gregory’s new restaurant venture. The one he generously partnered with his hometown buddies to keep this town just as it is. Perfect.”
Damn, she’s still as fiery as she is gorgeous.
“Got it?”
I nodded, but Pippa missed it since her gaze was on her phone. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Good. Enjoy the food. Nina is an excellent chef. The doors open in eight minutes. Good luck tonight.”
I watched Pippa walk away, knowing I had a hell of a lot to make up for, but I had no clue where to begin.
Chapter 8
Pippa
It was only thirty minutes into Opening Night, but so far it was going well. I managed to shrug off the conversation with Ryan and focus on greeting the guests, giving them a quick rundown of the local ingredients as well as the dishes I found delicious from my earlier tasting. I am the epitome of a calm and cool professional throughout the night, ignoring the inner turmoil caused by finding out Ryan was my new boss. And our brief conversation.
Inner turmoil?
I sounded like an idiot, because there shouldn’t be any turmoil. I was a forty year old woman and high school was—literally—a lifetime ago. It didn’t matter that no man I ever dated, or married, ever stacked up, ever made me feel even a fraction of what Ryan had made me feel. Maybe that was the nature of first loves. And first heartaches.
The men who had come after Ryan, it wasn’t their fault, not completely. They got a different version of me, a woman who didn’t trust easily, who got out before a man had a chance to leave her. A short-lived marriage had taught me that even though I’d moved on from Ryan, his betrayal had fundamentally changed me, altered my ability to trust. To stick.
I shook off all thoughts of Ryan and the past and smiled down at the couple with matching silver curls. “Your server will be with you shortly.”
“Pippa, do you have a minute? I have a few questions for you.” Ryan’s smooth voice startled me but I recovered quickly, turning to him with a mischievous smile.
“Mr. Gregory, have you met Celia and Donovan Markson?”
He blinked, surprised and shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure. You folks local?”
