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“Okay. But maybe after I’m done with my coffee?”
I lift my mug.
She shakes her head. “I want you to see it now.”
“Maisie,” Jackson warns.
“No, it’s fine.” I get off my stool. “I’ll just bring my coffee.”
I hold it in one hand and grab Maisie’s hand with the other. “Let’s go.”
Jackson says nothing as Maisie leads me out of the kitchen. When I glance back, though, I notice a frown on his face.
Why does he look like he’s just been robbed?
Chapter 10
Jackson
I check the last security camera in the corner of the restaurant’s dining area, then walk to the middle of the room to assess the work that’s been done.
The interior is finished now. The walls, floors and ceiling have been repainted, the new light fixtures installed, the windows replaced. All that’s left is for the furniture to be brought in, particularly the dining tables and chairs, and for the interior decorator I’ve hired to work her magic and give the room a cozy, almost romantic ambience.
Everything is slowly falling into place.
At least, it is in the restaurant. At home, nothing has changed. I haven’t made any progress with Cathy. I’ve barely been able to get her alone. Each time I try, I get a phone call or she remembers something she has to do or more often than not, Maisie barges in just like she did yesterday morning. Frankly, it’s getting frustrating.
“Wow,” Cathy’s voice breaks into my thoughts as she enters the room. “This place is starting to look fantastic.”
I throw her a puzzled look. “What are you doing here? Isn’t it your day off?”
“Ken called and told me the wines were being delivered today,” she says. “She asked me to handle it, so here I am.”
Here she is.
“I was going to take Maisie to daycare since I don’t know how long this will take, but Mrs. Henderson and Alice offered to take care of her. I hope you don’t mind.”
I shake my head. “They seem to be taken with her, too.”
Cathy shrugs. “Who isn’t?”
At any rate, that means that Cathy and I are alone. Well, there are still some workers around, but they’re all outside. In here, it’s just Cathy and me.
I’m about to take a step closer to her when I hear a truck pull into the driveway.
“That must be the wines,” Cathy says as she heads to the door. “They’re early.”
“They are,” I say sourly.
Oh well. I guess I’ll just have to wait for another opportunity.
Cathy stops at the doorway and glances at me. “Can you help me?”
“Sure.” I put on a smile. “Let’s bring in those wines for my restaurant.”
~
Merlot. Shiraz. Pinot Noir. Cabernet Sauvignon. Riesling. Chardonnay. Rose.
I grin in approval as I look at the varieties of wine displayed in the crates and boxes spread out on the floor. There’s one from every prominent region – France, Italy, Spain, Australia, Chile, and of course, here in California. I’m sure there’s one to complement every dish I’ve created and to suit every diner’s taste perfectly.
“Isn’t this too much wine?” Cathy asks as she types something on the tablet she’s holding.
“What do you mean? We’re going to have a lot of diners, so we need a lot of wine.”
“I just don’t understand why you need wine to enjoy food. Won’t the wine actually keep you from enjoying the food? I mean, will you still be able to taste it if you’re drunk?”
I lift an eyebrow. “You’ve never had wine, have you?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. Never found it necessary, either.”
“Well, now it is.” I approach her. “How will you know which wine goes with what if a diner asks you unless you try them? How will you know which pairings are good and which are not?”
She gives me a puzzled look. “Surely that’s someone else’s job.”
“But isn’t it also your job to know everyone’s job?” I ask her. “If you don’t know what the staff is supposed to do, how can you make sure they’re doing it?”
Cathy frowns because I’m right.
“Besides, you’ll be managing this restaurant in the future,” I add. “Shouldn’t you know everything there is to know about it?”
“So what are you saying? That I should taste all the wines here?”
“Exactly.” I take the tablet from her hand. “I’ll cook some food, we’ll open a few bottles, and we can have a wine tasting party. It will be a celebration of the fact that you’re now a permanent employee here, too. How does that sound?”
Cathy shrugs. “Fine. If you say I have to do it, then I’ll do it.”
“Good.”
She lifts a finger. “Just try not to get me drunk, okay? I don’t want Maisie to see me swaying up the stairs, barely able to open my eyes.”
I nod. I don’t want her to get drunk either. If she does, I won’t be able to do anything, which will defeat the purpose of this little exercise.
