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“I’ll be forever grateful to her, you know that.”
“I know.” Clay pats my back. “Just don’t lose your way.”
I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
But instead of answering, he goes into his office, leaving me wondering.
The questions I posed earlier swirl in my head again, prompting me to think about my parents. I looked up to them—what they had with each other stood the test of time, and that’s what love is. But they’re gone, so maybe it’s time for me to start creating that love for myself.Creating—not so much finding it. It’s got to start with me.
And what is a party for, if not to be used as an excuse to bring a date?
I smile to myself. This time, everything will fall into place—I have to make it happen.
Then I hear my assistant, Kylie, knocking at the door.
“Come in”
“Your eleven o’clock is here.”
“Remind me, who is it?”
“The guy from ARTable, the catering guy.”
“Ah yeah, of course, let him in.”
Aaron-Reid Smith is an athletic man with a face like Christian Bale. His voice is low, more on the Batman side than Bruce Wayne. Wearing a dark gray Armani suit and with a trendy undercut hairstyle, I wouldn’t believe he was a chef if he hadn’t brought samples of his lamb navarin and quiche Lorraine for me to try.
“Wow! I’m impressed,” I say, wishing he’d brought more. “So, tell me about yourself.”
“I spent a good fifteen years in Europe. I worked in restaurant kitchens in England, Greece, Germany, and Switzerland before I set up my company there.”
“Is French cuisine your specialty?”
“Ah… I love all foods. I wouldn’t say it’s a specialty, but I can say it’s my favorite. That said, I do have a specialty.”
I tug up my chin, intrigued.
“Luxury cruises. Any size, from two-person dinners to full-blown celebrations with hundreds of guests. I’ve catered for the fussiest food connoisseurs, from the Garibaldis to the Bernadottes and the Windsors. Kate Middleton’s sister might’ve published her own cookbooks, but—don’t tell anyone—she mastered her mirepoix technique from me.” He tosses me a quick wink.
“So why Hartley Marine?”
“Europe was a gold mine, until the financial crisis. I think it was a blessing in disguise. It forced me to come back home and start again here.”
“You’re from California?”
“Through and through.”
My guest hands me his business card. The logo of his company is a rose. “ARTable. Why a rose, if you don’t mind my asking?” A company logo tells a lot about its owner.
He lets out a chuckle, and somehow his expression tells me I should know. “AR is my first and second name initials—so the company name ARTable is basically AR Table combined as a word. But AR is also a girl’s initials—someone dear to me. You can say we’re soul mates, till-the-end-of-time kind of soul mates. And she likes red roses.”
I nod. So he’s got a special someone. Life must be good for him.
“So, what are you proposing, Mr. Smith?”
“You rent out luxury yachts and organize high-end parties all over the world, but my proposal is solely for your American market. I believe in starting small, especially after what happened in Europe. I’d love to place ARTable as Hartley Marine’s official caterer.”
I nod, acknowledging his enthusiasm. “That is a sound idea. And I’m going to be honest with you. Right now, we’re trying to shift our focus solely toward development. I can say we might be phasing out our rental model. It’d be a medium-term thing, but naturally, we’d have less demand for catering.”
