Page 45 of Holly versus Mr. Ivy
Everyone on the line raised their hand. Holly further shocked me when she said, “I love reading fantasy. If any of you enjoy that genre, come talk to me sometime. I love chatting about books.”
What? I did not know that about Holly. That she’d offered for people to come talk to her thrilled me. It was exactly the type of atmosphere we needed.
Holly’s questions went on for another twenty minutes. She asked about food, movies, seasons, flavors, traveling, and more. The best part was how after each question, the staff would look up and down the line to see who else shared their interests. Whispered side conversations broke out and laughter boomed. The chefs relaxed and spoke to everyone else more, including the waitstaff. The game was a success.
All because of Holly.
Her laugh startled me out of my trance of marveling at her skills to bring the group together. Peering at her, I grinned. Her head was back, her mouth open wide, her shoulders shaking, her hands clutching her midsection. Reggie, our fish chef, and Sam, the bartender, were standing next to her on the line. I’d missed the last question and had no idea what had caused such a reaction in Holly, but the sight warmed my chest.
Like a hurricane, the truth slammed into me. IlikedHolly. This was more than attraction like I’d felt during our moment earlier today. Her grumpy yet sassy personality called out to my soul. Like a sailor toward a siren, I was drawn to her. I wanted more than friendship. I wanted to pull that petite, feisty woman into my arms and actually kiss those pink lips of hers.
Dang. I was in trouble.
Chapter 18
Rhett
Istoodattablefourteen in the dining room, checking in with our customers on their experience at The Boardwalk. “That’s good to hear,” I said after the patrons exclaimed that the food and service were fantastic. “Thanks for coming in tonight. We appreciate your business and hope you’ll come back soon.”
Walking away, my stomach dropped to the floor as Uncle Anthony strode into the dining room, a scowl on his face. I greeted him by the bar, where every leather stool was occupied.
“Uncle Anthony.” I faked excitement at seeing him, even though my heart thrashed around my chest. “Hi. We weren’t expecting you.”
“Get Chef Holly and meet me in your office.” He stormed off, heading toward the hallway to the right of the bar, where my office was located.
I swallowed back the bile burning my throat. Had Darby contacted him already? Or was this regarding the report I’d sent him showing our current numbers? Racing down the hall, I peeked my head into Aaron’s office. “Anthony Ivy is here requesting a meeting with me and Chef Dewhurst. Will you wander the dining room until I’m done?”
Aaron pushed his chair back and stood. “Of course.”
“Thanks.” I left his office and went to the kitchen. The sound of voices amid the sizzles and banging was music to my ears. Today’s activities had worked better than I’d thought. Scanning the room, I found Holly stirring a pot on the stove.
I stepped to the side of her, keeping my voice low. “Anthony is here requesting to speak to us.”
Holly’s face went white. She dropped the large spoon she held. “Darby?” she squeaked.
I frowned. “Most likely.” I wasn’t ready to give up without a fight. We hadn’t kissed. We weren’t dating. We hadn’t broken any rules. Regardless of what Darby had reported, we technically hadn’t done anything wrong. “But we’ll be fine.”
She rubbed her hands down her sides. “I hope you’re right. Let me tell Nico I’m stepping out.”
I bent my head in the direction of the hallway. “I’ll wait for you outside the door.”
Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I worked on what I’d say to Uncle Anthony that might allow both of us to keep our jobs. I liked Holly and wouldn’t mind kissing her—when we were no longer coworkers—but I wouldn’t do anything else to jeopardize our careers regardless of how much I cared for her. How much she made me want to try a relationship again.
A minute later, Holly joined me in the hallway. I wanted to squeeze her arm to reassure her we would be fine, but kept my hand glued to my side. Me touching her had gotten us in trouble in the first place. “Ready?”
“No.” She rubbed her hand along her forehead. “I’m terrified.”
“Whatever happens, we’re in this together.” For better or worse.
“Yeah,” she whispered.
I walked the few steps down the hall and entered my office. Uncle Anthony sat behind my desk, his elbows on the armrests, hands steepled under his chin. Scooting over, I took the farthest chair, letting Holly take the one next to the door.
The moment we sat, Uncle Anthony spoke. “I received a phone call this afternoon.”
Darby had definitely caused this impromptu meeting. A litany of curse words ran through
my mind. “Okay,” I hedged.
