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Her beautiful chocolate eyes filled with determination. The need to comfort strangled him but he kept his feet rooted to the floor. “I know Michael wants you to eventually run La Dolce Maggie. You’re dedicated and smart—I never questioned those qualities about you, cara. But is this what you want?”
The flash of doubt was quickly buried. “Of course. This is what I trained for. I don’t intend to let my family down.”
Pride cut through him. The woman before him held more loyalty and work ethic than anyone he’d known. Still, he remembered her creativity and longing to paint. Remembered her mother hanging her work in the kitchen and being surprised at her talent. “You never answered my question. Is this what you want?”
She sank white teeth into the tender flesh of her lip. He remembered plunging his tongue between those ruby lips and devouring her. Max held back a groan of sheer misery. “This is all I have,” she said softly.
He tipped her chin up and studied her face. Why would she say something so odd? Endless choices stretched ahead of her. Michael may have hopes she’d sit at the helm, but his friend would back her if she insisted on a different path. Venezia pursued a career in fashion, and Michael always boasted of her talent and individuality.
He sensed her heart had never belonged to the business industry like Julietta’s. In his gut, she belonged somewhere else. He just wasn’t sure where.
A quick tap on the door pulled his attention. Jim peeked his head in, earbud firmly in place. “Boss, we got a problem. Michael needs you to get over to the waterfront location. There’s some type of mix-up with the supplier, and the chef is freaking out.”
“Won’t a conference call handle it?”
“Nah, this one needs a hands-on approach.”
“Fine. Tell Michael I’m on my way and I’ll report back to him later.”
“Got it.” Jim disappeared. Max shrugged on his suit jacket and grabbed his briefcase. “Let me fix this and we’ll talk more later. Cover me while I’m gone.”
“Of course.”
He flew out the door and made a note to dig deeper later.
• • •
Two hours later, Carina worked her way through her paperwork pile as she manned Max’s desk. The events of the morning still bothered her, but she decided to push through and make up for it. One screwup shouldn’t make her beat herself bloody. Everyone made mistakes in the beginning—isn’t that what Max and Michael consistently told her?
She flexed her neck back and forth and tried to concentrate on the endless array of numbers filling up the computer screen. The phone buzzed.
“Yes?”
The secretary’s voice came over the phone. “Robin is here to see Max.”
“From Robin’s Organics?” she questioned.
“Yes, he says it’s urgent.”
“Send him in, please.”
The man who entered had shaggy chestnut hair, muddy brown eyes, and ruddy cheeks. He wore a red shirt with ROBIN RULES scrawled across the front, and jeans with a hole in them. Not the typical business-suited executive from one of their most important suppliers. Definitely a man who got his hands in the muck. She rose and shook his hand. “I’m Carina Conte. Max isn’t here at the moment. May I help you?”
A muscle in his eye twitched. “I have to discuss a problem with you, Ms. Conte. I hope you can help me.”
“Carina. And I’ll certainly try. Let me pull up your account with us.” She tapped a few keys and read over the history and current notes. “You’ve worked with us a while now, since La Dolce Maggie opened. Am I correct?”
“Yes. We’ve always held a solid reputation for the best organic fruit in the Hudson Valley. But we’ve been having problems with the Newburgh location. The figs and raspberries were delivered late. The chef told me this morning he’s dumping our account.”
Carina frowned. “The chef doesn’t have the final say in that—we do. Is this a first occurrence?”
He winced. “No. It’s happened a few times over the last month.”
She leaned back in her chair and studied him. Tapped her pencil against the edge of the desk. “When suppliers run late, we can’t make our pastries. That’s a serious problem.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I wanted to come in person and tell you what’s going on.” He cleared his throat. “My son has been driving the truck and I started him in the business. He did well for a while, he just graduated college, but lately he got involved in the wrong crowd and—” Robin broke off, then pushed on. “He’s been on drugs. Stealing money. Not doing the deliveries. I assumed everything was fine and never checked.”
Her eyes softened with sympathy. She longed to reach out and take the poor man’s hand, who was obviously hurting over his son. “I’m very sorry. What are you going to do?”
“He checked into rehab. He won’t work for me again, I promise you. I’m asking to give me a pass on this and let me continue with the Newburgh location. My company has a solid reputation and I don’t want to lose La Dolce Maggie as an account.”
Carina skimmed the reports and noted the history with Robin’s Organics. No real problems until a few weeks ago. As the man waited for her decision, she dimly noted what Max and Julietta would do in this situation. They’d be empathetic but professional. Probably ask for a discount for the mistakes. Most definitely make their displeasure known. But she wasn’t either of them, and her gut told her Robin had been put through enough without her busting his balls.
“I’m going to need to guarantee my chef there that he will encounter no more late deliveries. Can you promise me this?”
“Yes. I’ve already hired someone new that I can completely trust. There will be no further mistakes.”
“Understood. I will take care of this, and we’ll start with a clean slate.”
Relief flickered over his face. His eye gave a final twitch as he rose to shake her hand. “Thank you, Carina. I really appreciate this.”
“You’re welcome. Good luck with your son. I know your heart is probably broken, but I’m sure you’ll do everything possible to make sure he comes out okay. Having family to count on is half the battle.”
He nodded jerkily and left the office.
She sighed, her heart aching for the man. Bringing children into the world was such a risk of love. She gave him credit for his courage and honesty.
