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My inhale was deep but shaky as I told myself it didn’t matter. It was better for Cash if he didn’t have deep feelings for me, because this sucked.
If I put my magnanimous hat on for a second, I didn’t want Cash to hurt, didn’t want him to feel this wrenching pain I felt in my chest. I wanted him to live happy. He deserved so much to live happy. He could do that here in Dragonfly Lake, as the owner and head chef of his family’s restaurant. This was where he belonged.
And I was going where I belonged.
I would embrace that and be happy and grateful as soon as I got there. In the meantime, I’d try to get through the traveling without losing my composure and bawling my eyes out in public.
Chapter23
Cash
By the time Seth and I were sitting in the empty dining room at not-yet-open Henry’s for our weekly Monday morning meeting, Ava had been gone for more than fifty-four hours. I didn’t know why the fuck I was counting but I couldn’t help it. Maybe I was hoping it’d get easier the more time that passed.
I mainly grunted while my brother rambled on about social media crap and the events on the Rusty Anchor beer patio the rest of the month, but then grunting through a meeting wasn’t unusual for me. Seth ran our business the way it needed to be run and basically updated me during our meetings. I had more of an opinion if the food itself was involved, or the kitchen.
Today, I didn’t give a flying fuck about any of it.
“Have you heard from Ava?” Seth asked out of nowhere.
I glared at him. “Why the hell would I?”
His brows rose. “You two were pretty close the past couple weeks,” he said. “I just thought—”
“Save yourself the thinking. We agreed to end whatever it was we had.” I crumpled the agenda my anal brother always printed out and clenched it in my fist. “You got anything else about the restaurant or are we done here?”
“That’s all I’ve got. Just…sorry you’re hurting.”
“I’m fine.” I shoved my chair back, stood, and pushed it back in, knowing I was being an unbearable asshole but not caring. With a glare out the window, where it was rainy and gray and perfect for my state of mind, I trudged off to my office tucked in the corner of the kitchen, slamming the door behind me when I got there.
I knew I needed to get over this crap and stop being a jackass. It was no surprise that I missed the shit out of Ava, but I’d known this was coming. Hell, I’d known it would end this way from the first time we’d talked at the inn last month. In my messed-up mind, I’d taken the fact she was going back to California as a sort of security. We could spend time togetherbecausethere was a definite end to it. There was no possibility of a future. I hadn’twanteda future with her.
My gut knotted up.
Did I want a future with her now?
It didn’t matter anyway. I wasn’t going to have one.
I just needed to get back to doing what I did—the food business.
Out of habit, I sat down and opened one of my social media apps to check the latest onSmall Town Smorgasbord’shashtag. I knew Kennedy Clayborne’s people had likely posted for us over the weekend, but I hadn’t bothered to check in once. I also needed to like or comment to any customers who gave us a plug.
The show’s account itself appeared at the top of my feed. Before I even finished skimming it, the knot in my gut hardened to a rock and sank.
“Son of a bitch.” I bit out each word clearly and separately, as if enunciating could make them count more.
I fisted my hand and held it up to my mouth, my elbow lodged on the desk, reining in everything so as not to do what I felt like doing—pounding a hole through the wall.
Join us in congratulating Chef Nola Simms and the Cove in Dragonfly Lake, Tennessee, for being selected for an upcoming episode of Small Town Smorgasbord! Filming will begin this fall. Watch for episodes in the spring.
I sat there in stunned silence, my jaw clenched so hard I might pop a molar or three.
I’d been so sure Henry’s would get the nod for Tennessee.
We were better than the Cove. Our food was outstanding and creative and top quality. Our service was commendable. And our history was decades longer and stronger than the Cove’s.
Did none of that count for jack shit?
The door whipped opened and Seth’s ugly face appeared. I glared at him silently, my fist still clenched in front of my mouth, and he studied me with a question in his expression.
