Page 69 of The Chef's Kiss
I hurried back to the kitchen for privacy. “What do you want?”
“Have you considered my offer at all? It was quite generous.”
“And suspicious. You practically ran me out of the city. Or don’t you remember?”
“Honey, the past is over. Let’s not think about that now.”
“Kind of hard when I’m cooking in this small town because of it.” I leaned against the counter and sighed. I didn’t hate being here as much as I had when I first arrived. There was a sense of satisfaction from last night I’d never felt before. The people here had truly appreciated the food as something special, not just another meal.
“You don’t need to stay there. Didn’t you hear me last night? I have a restaurant just waiting for a chef like you.”
That wasn’t what she’d said. Hiring me as an executive chef was different from giving me the financial backing for a restaurant of my own. “What happened?”
“What?”
“To your chef. Why do you need me suddenly?”
She was quiet for a moment. “That doesn’t matter. All that remains is for you to tell me you’ll come back. I can give you everything you ever wanted.”
I pushed off the counter and strode to the door, peeking out into the dining room. Jorgina sat hunched in a booth while a few of the waitresses tried to cheer her up. Emery danced to whatever played through the headphones she’d put on. A handful of waiters set tables, laughing and joking with each other. It was so different from any restaurant I’d been a part of.
This town was different.
She was different.
There was the truth. I’d had more fun working with Jorgina Ashford than I could remember ever having at work. I looked forward to coming in, to seeing what new joke she’d craft each day at my expense.
“Hudson,” Jordan snapped. “Are you even listening to me?”
“I’ll think about it. I have to go.” I hung up before she could say anything else.
I was about to head back to the dining room when my phone rang again. Sighing, I checked the screen. My mother. I’d been dodging her calls for too long, and she wouldn’t stop until I answered.
“Hi, Mom.” I leaned my shoulder against the doorframe.
“So, I heard from Jordan.” No greeting. No, hi, son, how are you?
“Of course you did.” Jordan would use whatever pressure she could.
“She tells me you’re going back to New York to repair your reputation there.”
“I might.”
“Your father and I are pleased. We do not appreciate what happened, nor the fallout. Our family’s image needs to be fixed.”
“On brand, Mother.” I rolled my eyes to the ceiling.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m glad you’re doing well too. My soft opening went wonderfully. Thanks for asking. I hope you and Dad can make it sometime. There’s a lot of work that goes into running a restaurant, as I’m sure you know, so I’ll have to cut this conversation short.”
“Hudson—”
“I love you too, Mother.” I hung up on someone for the second time in five minutes, realizing there was only one person I wanted to talk to.
Shutting off my phone, I strode toward Jorgina’s booth and slid in across from her. She didn’t look up.
“Wish I could give you a drink right about now.” I knew it was the wrong thing to say right when the words left my lips.
