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All the wind left Carly’s lungs on a hard gasp. “You’re serious.” The salary alone was one thing. A cut of the profits…for someone with less than ten years’ experience, it bordered on legendary.
“Deadly,” Richard agreed. “Look, I realize I’ve tossed this at you, and that you need time to think about it. I’ll be at the resort for the rest of the weekend. Call my cell and we’ll talk more tomorrow.” He slid a crisp, white business card across the table. “Please know that while I wouldn’t make this kind of offer to just anybody, it’s only on the table for a short time. I need you in there, Carly. The sooner, the better. You do understand what I’m saying, don’t you?”
Something loosened in Carly’s chest, moving up to her throat and finally,finallypushing intelligent words to her lips.
“Absolutely, Richard. You’ve made things crystal clear.”
* * *
It was onlyafter Carly had sent out the last ticket of the service and made sure her line chefs were dutifully breaking down their stations that her conversation with Richard had really sunk in. Not wanting to risk being overheard by anyone on the restaurant staff and knowing they’d all be more than busy inside, Carly caught Adrian by the sleeve.
“I need a word with you. Privately.” She jerked her head to the single door leading to the loading dock through the back of the kitchen, heading toward it without waiting for a reply.
Adrian followed, his words becoming gruff as he followed her to the dark quiet of the loading dock. “Did Boy Wonder say something to piss you off? I swear to God, if he hurt you, I’m going to—”
Realization seeped into Carly’s brain in a slow leak, and she shivered against the night chill. “What? Oh, no. No, this doesn’t have anything to do with Jackson.” Her words prickled with the intensity of a lie, but she shook them off. One thing at a time. “Richard Buchanan came to see me.”
“From Gracie’s?” Adrian’s eyes flashed round with shock in the moonlight filtering down from the canopy of inky clouds overhead. A thick breeze rustled the leaves in the nearby grove of trees framing the parking lot around the corner, sounding like soft footfalls, and Carly hugged herself to ward off the streak of cold it sent through her.
“Yeah.” On a deep breath, she told the story from start to finish, ending with Richard’s entreaty to call him tomorrow with her decision.
“Holyshit, Carly! This is everything you wanted,” Adrian breathed, seeming stuck between excitement and disbelief. “No wonder Travis has been so desperate to get you to do more videos.”
The words hit Carly low in the gut, like a delayed reaction.Of course. Travis had to have known his career was in the balance. The favorable PR that would’ve gone with internet popularity would’ve been his best shot at keeping his name afloat in the job market. Without it, he’d be screwed.
Oh, the irony.
“I can’t believe I didn’t see it before,” she said, shaking her head.
“You had no way of knowing Gracie’s was going downhill. Occupational hazard of being out here in the middle of nowhere. In order to keep your name out of the loop, sometimes you’ve gotta be…well, out of the loop yourself, you know?” Adrian’s words held no trace of disdain, yet they yanked Carly’s pride. “But that’s a thing of the past, baby! When does Richard want us to start?”
Carly felt a twist deep in her chest. “As soon as possible. Travis is already officially gone.”
Adrian nodded, his brow folded in thought. “I could stay here until they find a temporary replacement for you. Plus, you’ve got a couple of chefs here who could definitely move up the line, so your backup staff is solid. It might be a rocky transition to another head chef, but it always is. This place will manage.”
Carly dropped her chin in an absent nod, the twang between her ribs morphing into a painful ache. She eyed the wide, bricked entrance to the loading dock, and the sight of the grassy lot beyond it jerked her head in realization.
“The garden,” she breathed, her gut tightening. “Someone else would have to lead the garden project.”
Adrian cocked his head, platinum hair gleaming in a shaft of moonlight. “Just because the resort approved the project doesn’t mean you have to head it up. If they want to move forward, they can do it without you. Unless you don’t want them to,” he finished slowly, pinning her with a knowing stare.
“I wouldn’t have busted my ass on that proposal if I didn’t think it was a great project. Regardless of who heads it up,” she said, her tone a lot more defensive than she’d intended even though she’d meant every word.
Adrian’s eyes went wide with understanding. “You don’t want to leave, do you?”
“Of course I want to leave,” she snapped, immediately regretting her tone. Damn it, she just needed to think. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just…I’m still trying to process it all, okay? Richard’s offer is unbelievable, but that doesn’t mean I can just leave things undone here.”
Boy, wasthatthe understatement of the year. Carly stuffed down the dread forcing its way upward in her chest. “Can you give me a little time to figure out how to do this? Please?”
Adrian regarded her with a critical stare, one that seemed to read the roiling emotions practically oozing from her pores. Damn it, why couldn’t she get it together? This was the opportunity of a lifetime, one she’d have begged for less than two months ago.
And yet, when she’d been sitting there, in front of Richard Buchanan with the offer of a lifetime on the table, she hadn’t been able to make her mouth form the wordsyes, I’d love to take the job.
Carly had to say yes. She’d be crazy—no, check that—she’d be one hundred percent, bat-shit-certifiableto turn down this job.
So, why did she want to do exactly that?
Finally, Adrian spoke. “Breakfast tomorrow. Seven o’clock, my place. I’ll cook, you’ll talk. We’ll figure it out. Now get out of here, would you? You’ve had a helluva night.” He jerked his scruffy chin toward the parking lot, partially hidden by the brick wall and night shadows.
