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“I hope it’s not too much to ask, but will you meet me for coffee?”
My breath catches in my throat and I feel like I might come undone. “Why?”
Sam hesitates. “I’d rather explain in person if it’s okay with you. But it’s nothing bad. On the contrary…I need your help with something.”
I don’t know how to respond. Sam and I haven’t talked. Everything between David’s family and me was awkward when I saw them last. I don’t understand why he’s reaching out to me now. I feel like I’m spinning in one spot, and I don’t know what the right answer is. I need Dianne to tell me what to do. I can’t rely on my therapist for every single answer, can I?
“Okay,” I say in a small voice because telling Sam off right now will be wrong. How can I do that when he’s done nothing to deserve it? And he is my brother-in-law. At least, he used to be.
“Let me know when you have a bit of free time, and I’ll meet you wherever you choose.”
I swallow again. “Have to check my calendar. I have a tough week ahead.”
“Whenever you can manage it.”
I nod even though he can’t see me.
“I’ll let you know.”
We end the call and I stare at the phone in my hand. I have no idea what to think or feel. Sam and I used to have an okay relationship while David and I were married, but everything fell apart when David died and it was easier to put my head down and power on.
“Mom! Are you finished?” Kylie calls.
“On my way,” I say and tuck my phone into my pocket. I join Kylie in the living room where she’s glued to a cartoon. I throw myself into the ridiculous story, laughing when Kylie does, putting all my focus on the stupid television and the cartoon that will never give me any answers. It's easier than to face reality right now. I need to figure out how I feel and what I think about Sam calling first.
I told him I would see him, but I don’t know if I will. I probably should, but I don’t know if I’m strong enough.
There’s too much going on right now. Dianne thinks I’m strong enough to deal with all of this, but I’m not always sure she’s right.
Chapter 7
Mason
When I pull into the parking lot, Hilary is already there, waiting for me.
“Thank you for meeting me at such short notice,” I say, shaking her hand.
“Not at all. I’m glad there is some interest in the property. It’s been empty for quite some time, and it’s a shame.”
Hilary Morgan is one of the biggest names in commercial property, and she’s the first person I thought of when I decided to invest in my restaurant.
“Why isn’t it selling?” I ask as we walk toward the building.
“Price range, for one,” Hilary admits. “It’s a commitment to put down this much money.” She glances at me to see the effect of her words. “But I like to think that the property speaks to someone, and I just haven’t found the right match yet.”
That last line’s a bullshit sales pitch, but I don’t say as much.
Hilary unlocks the front doors and lets me step in first. I’m immediately taken by the high ceilings and full-length windows that overlook the ocean. Rafters up ahead head and exposed pipes give it an industrial feel, and the concrete floor beneath my feet is polished.
“I don’t know exactly what you have in mind, but this space allows for a lot of imagination.”
I nod and turn around, trying to envision tables in the dining area, a bar on the side for those waiting or customers only popping in for a drink, and the view that will take everyone’s breath away.
“If you come through here,” Hilary says, gesturing for me to follow her, “you’ll see the state-of-the-art kitchen. This is really the selling point if you ask me. You want to give your chefs a space to be at home.”
Everything has been newly renovated, with the latest appliances and a workspace fit for a high-end restaurant. I run my hand along the metal countertops and take a deep breath.
I can already envision my team of chefs working here creating food from scratch, waiters hustling in and out, prep team, and sous chefs.
