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I closed the door and carried the vase to my kitchen table, setting it down. There had to be two dozen red roses inside, each one surrounded by greenery. I leaned in to smell the perfume of one of the buds.
Thoughts of the weekend with Holt snuck in even when I was crazy busy at work. It seemed like a far-off dream now, but seeing him last night had brought it back to the front of my mind. He was everything I ever hoped to find in a man and more: strong, kind, smart and funny.
Maybe we could figure this out, bad timing or not. I opened the card, my smile sliding away as I read the words.
Shea,
Please reconsider my offer of employment. I’ll pay whatever you ask. Let’s discuss it at your earliest convenience.
Keller
The flowers were from Keller Strauss? My heart sank as I read the message again.
This was about Keller wanting to make me his personal chef, nothing more. He’d written his phone number at the bottom of the card.
I needed to just get a bunch of cats and accept my spinsterhood. Cats would never let me down.
As I ate my stew and browsed Facebook photos of friends who did things other than work, I considered Keller’s message. He’d pay whatever I asked?
Keller was a billionaire. He could easily pay me double or triple what I made at The Moose. I didn’t want to take advantage, but maybe this was an opportunity for me. I’d get to travel with him and see new places, all while saving up a lot of money for my future.
I’d never considered a future as anything but the chef at The Sleepy Moose. I loved my work and I loved the people who worked with me, but life was passing me by. I was in my thirties now and had nothing to show for it but a home my mom had to help me take care of because of my work schedule.
Maybe this was a sign. A neon sign from the universe telling me to take a chance. Try something new. Working long hours almost every day and pining for a man who wasn’t ready for a relationship wasn’t working, so I had to at least meet with Keller and consider this job offer.
“You look lovely,” Keller said, standing up from his seat at a table for two at 3Bs as I approached him the next day.
“Thanks,” I said, taking off my baseball cap and shaking out my hair.
It was a beautiful summer day in the Beard, the temperature in the midseventies. Since I was only working on kitchen prep and paperwork today, I’d dressed in my favorite worn jean overalls, a tank top and Birkenstock sandals.
Keller, on the other hand, wore a crisp pale-blue dress shirt and dark dress pants, his black dress shoes shining. He was in his early forties and starting to go gray at the temples, but it suited him.
“Hey, Shea,” a server named Katie said, “what can I get you?”
“My usual iced chai, please.”
“You got it. And for you, Mr. Strauss?”
He smiled at her. “Call me Keller. I’ll take a black coffee, please.”
“You got it.”
The locals called Beard Books and Brews 3Bs, and it was my favorite place to go if I could get away from work for an hour during the day, which didn’t happen much. The bookshop, with a coffee and snack bar, had eclectic furniture and lots of plants. Greenery trailed down from shelves and lined every window. And it had the best smell in the world—coffee mixed with books.
“Thanks for meeting up with me,” Keller said.
“Thanks for the flowers. You didn’t have to do that.”
He smiled. “I was hoping to get your attention.”
“Well, I suppose it worked because here I am.” I glanced at the clock on the wall. “I don’t mean to rush things, but I have to be back at work in forty minutes.”
“Oh, sure.” He tapped his fingertips on the table. “Well, let’s get to it, then.”
Katie delivered our drinks and Keller took a black folder from his messenger bag. It had a gold foiled “Strauss Enterprises, Inc.” logo stamped on the front.
“That has information you can look over later about the benefits I offer. Healthcare, dental, retirement and all. I know you’ve turned me down several times, but I hear you’re overworked at your present job, so I hoped we could work something out where you work for me with clearly defined time off.”
