Page 73 of The Chef's Kiss
“Just when I’m starting to get my ducks in a row, he goes and throws a squirrel into the mix.”
“What does that even mean?” Conrad clutched the “my-life-is-in-danger” handle and braced his feet against the floor as I took off down the Boulevard.
“I don’t know, but he’s not leaving that easily.” My tires squealed as I turned into the parking lot and hit the brakes.
“Slow down, Jorgie.” Conrad scrambled out of the car and rushed behind me.
“Keep up, or sit in the car.” I fumbled with my keys at the front door of the bistro.
“Let me.” Conrad took the keys and unlocked the door. He’d wanted to drive me here, but I was only willing to let him tag along. I would handle this myself.
“Wait here.” I pointed to a booth at the front of the dining room. “You can go all big brother on him when I’m done.”
“I’m just here for moral support. You can handle this yourself.”
“Oh look, he’s chopping vegetables like it’s just a normal day.” I came to a stop in the middle of the bustling kitchen, the wind draining from my sails and my anger.
“That’s nearly always what I’m doing.” Hudson eyed me warily as the sous chefs and line cooks suddenly found somewhere else to be. The bistro wouldn’t open for dinner for several more hours, but our staff was already busy preparing for another successful night.
“Something the matter?” Hudson stopped his chopping.
“When were you going to tell me?” I moved to stand in front of the prep counter where he worked.
“Tell you what?”
“About the offer from New York?”
“How do you even know about that?” Hudson’s eyes raised in surprise.
“It’s a small town. Nothing stays secret for long.”
“It’s been like ten minutes.”
“So, it’s true?”
“Yes.” He went back to chopping onions.
“And?” I folded my arms across my chest, just barely restraining myself from tapping my foot.
“And it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.” He shrugged. “It’s everything any chef in the world would want. An offer I can’t pass up.”
“So, that’s it then. We’ve barely gotten this restaurant off the ground, and you’re leaving?”
“The offer is from Jordan.” Hudson massacred a zucchini, as if the name of the woman who ruined his career was enough to make him feel murderous.
“Oh.” I moved to stand beside him, taking the knife from his hands. “That’s … unexpected.”
“Yes, it is.” He sighed, turning toward me. “I don’t know if I can trust her with my career for a second time.”
I nodded, understanding his feelings. Jordan had nearly destroyed him. Breaking his heart and tanking his reputation in the culinary world in one fell swoop.
“You know, any restaurant can be a success when you’re the one behind it.” I took his hand in mine. “It doesn’t matter where it is or who is backing it. It’s entirely up to you. You can take a chance to find out what you really want—what you’re really made of, or you can go back to what you know, what’s easier—and run the same risks there.”
“Jo, it’s not that simple.” Hudson reached for me, stepping close, too close. His eyes flicked from my eyes to my lips, and I drew in a breath.
But this couldn’t happen. We couldn’t happen. “You’re leaving.” I shook my head. “I …” I wanted to cry or scream or breakdown entirely, but I couldn’t do any of those things. I refused to let him see how much this hurt, how I couldn’t imagine working side by side with anyone else.
He lifted a hand to push a lock of hair behind my ear. “Jo—”
