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“I was in here earlier, watching you walk around aimlessly, chatting with a few people here and there. It was so half-assed and insincere it would have been better if you hadn’t even bothered. You didn’t even notice me, did you?” Tina shook her head, incredibly embarrassed that her terrible people skills had been witnessed by this woman.
“Look, I’m the last person to talk about interpersonal skills. I’m the worst. I always say the wrong thing at the stupidest time. And apparently, I rub people up the wrong way. I’m better behind the scenes. Play to your strengths. Promote your chef. She’s likable—” Ouch! Daff really didn’t pull her punches. She must have noticed Tina’s wince, because she grimaced. “Shit. See? I told you. I suck. I tend to speak my mind without really considering the consequences. I don’t mean you’re not likable, of course. You’re clearly shy and a little more reserved than Libby, but other people won’t pick up on the shyness. They’ll just assume you’re standoffish. People like to think the worst of others. Human nature and all that.”
“I can never think of the right thing to say,” Tina admitted beneath her breath. “At least you say something, even if it’s the wrong thing. I clam up.”
Tina couldn’t believe she’d just admitted as much to the other woman. She was never that frank with strangers. But something about the woman’s candidness really appealed to Tina and made her want to confide in her.
“So don’t put yourself in that situation. Unless you’re completely comfortable, it’s better to not attempt speaking with the customers. Let your manager deal with that; let your chef and your staff smile and play nice. People know when you find it a chore to speak with them. And it puts them the hell off. You can’t stay in hiding forever, of course—at some point people will want to meet you and speak with you. But for now, while we’re building this brand, we can work something out. Give you a mystique that will get people curious about you. The more intrigued they are, the more likely they are to come to the restaurant to try and figure you out.”
“I don’t think I’m comfortable with people trying to figure me out.” She had enough people trying to figure her out: her family was always lamenting about how they didn’t understand her, and Libby wanted to know more about the baby she had loved and lost.
And Harris . . . it terrified her how little he knew. The thought of him learning more was untenable, and yet she didn’t know how much longer she could keep the truth from him.
And now this. All Tina had wanted was to finally accomplish something she could be proud of. This restaurant—with her name on the sign—had been her best shot. And if she didn’t properly market it, the place was going to sink without a trace. It had been naive of her to think MJ’s would succeed simply because the brick-and-mortar establishment had been standing for thirty years. Tina had thought she was giving the town what they wanted and that she would easily inherit the existing clientele.
She didn’t want to fail at this; she may have gone into it half-cocked, with some vague idea of helping Libby out . . . but the more time she spent here, in this town, with these people, the more important it became to her to succeed.
Tina now saw that she had been self-sabotaging. Same as she had done since losing her baby. Going into a venture without a solid plan in mind and then failing spectacularly when things got too difficult. If she wasn’t careful, MJ’s would become yet another disaster to stick into her thick scrapbook of failures. And she didn’t want that. She wanted to be good at something.
She wanted to be good at this.
Purchasing the restaurant may have started off as yet another impulsive decision, but it was coming to mean so much more to her. Tina had stubbornly believed she could do this without help. But that was always her fatal flaw. Keeping everyone who cared about her at arm’s length. Never asking for—or accepting—assistance, always so sure that “maybe this time” she could make it on her own. She had never felt able to ask her family for help, not when they had made it so clear to her how little faith they had in her ever accomplishing anything noteworthy. But she now recognized that—if she wanted this restaurant to succeed—she would have to set that pride aside.
Her talk with Libby about the baby had opened Tina’s eyes to the fact that she had other family. She had a sister who believed in her, who loved her, and who cared about what happened to her. And Libby wasn’t the only one. This woman, Daffodil Carlisle, a relative stranger, believed in Tina and MJ’s enough to approach her with these ideas. And there were others.
