Page 69 of Just a Taste
I pause for a moment, trying to put into words the feelings I’ve kept buried for so long. ‘Just bear with me here, but food is the most important part of any relationship, don’t you think? It’s like the heart. People connect over meals. It’s not just about the food on the plate – it’s about what happens when you sit down together, the conversations, the shared experience. I’ve always believed that. And I want Heart to reflect that. A place where people can rediscover those connections, even when the world feels like it’s pulling them apart.’
The words hang in the air, and for a moment, I wonder if I’ve said too much. The dream I’ve kept tucked away, afraid to chase, now feels real, like it’s right in front of me, waiting for me to take it.
Hoxton is quiet for a moment, and then he asks, ‘What would be on the menu at Heart?’
‘I think I’d start with things like roast chicken, mac and cheese, roast potatoes. Comfort food, mostly. But with a little twist. Things you’d find at home, but with something special about them. Something to make you remember why food matters.’ I gesture to the food we’re preparing right now. ‘Stuff like this.’
‘Nice,’ he says. ‘I could get behind that.’
I smile, and I feel a real spark of excitement. It’s been a while since I thought about this in any kind of real detail. ‘I want it to feel like a family meal, you know? But even for people who don’t have that anymore. Maybe they’ve lost it, or maybe they just never had it, I don’t know. But food has a way of healing things. Of making people feel like they’re part of something, even when they’re at their loneliest.’
His smile falters slightly, and for a second, I wonder if I’ve said too much again, but then he looks at me with a look I don’t think I’ve ever seen directed at me before. Respect, I think. ‘That’s what food does,’ he agrees softly.
I feel a little breathless, like I’ve just shared a piece of my soul, and the air around us seems to settle a bit.
‘You’ve put a lot of thought into this,’ Hoxton says, and I feel a flicker of embarrassment in my stomach.
I shake my head. ‘It’s just a stupid pipe dream. I’d never be able to pull it off.’
He frowns. ‘Why not?’
A dry laugh splutters out of me without my permission. ‘Running a restaurant is hard.’
‘And you’re the best chef I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting,’ Hoxton says without missing a beat. ‘And I’ve eaten at some pretty well-reviewed places. Nothing, and I meannothing, Noelle, compares to the dishes you make me on a weekly basis.’
I swallow hard, and grip the spatula like it’s the only thing holding me upright. ‘You can’t be serious,’ I say, even though I know he is. My voice comes out rougher than I meant it to. ‘I mean, yeah, I make decent food, but running a restaurant? It’s a whole other thing.’
Hoxton takes a step closer, his gaze unwavering, and I’m struck by how easy it has become for him to disarm me. ‘Noelle,’ he says, voice low. ‘I’m not saying it because I think it’s just a nice thing to say. I’m saying it because it’s true. From day one you’ve been amazing. You understood what I was asking for from the very beginning. I’ve never had to resend you my brief or rework any of your menus – you’ve always just got it down perfectly. You have something that the best chefs in the world don’t have. You make food thatisn’t just about the ingredients, it’s about the feeling. And that’s what matters.’
I’m not sure how to respond to that.
‘And that’s just me talking about how good your food is,’ Hoxton continues. ‘I haven’t even started talking about the admin of it all. How many other clients do you have? How many other briefs, menus, allergies, dietary requirements and more do you have to keep in your mind at any given point in time? You’regood,Noelle. Brilliant, even. You can do it. You know you can.’
I look at him –reallylook at him – and there’s something in his eyes that tells me he’s not just trying to get me to blush or feel good for a moment. This isn’t a game for him. He believes it. He really, truly believes what he’s saying.
My heart thuds a little harder in my chest, and I feel heat rising in my cheeks. ‘You really think that?’ I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. I feel vulnerable and exposed, like I’ve let something important slip out of me and I’m not sure I’ll ever get it back.
Hoxton nods, slow but steady. ‘I do. Can I tell you something?’
I nod.
‘I didn’t even want to attend that meal at The Avalon a couple of years back.’
‘What a surprise,’ I snort. ‘Alexander Hoxton didn’t want to attend a Christmas meal.’
He glares at me half-heartedly before continuing. ‘I only went out of obligation – I’d been invited by a potential new investor and I needed to do some schmoozing. The investment ultimately ended up falling through and I would’ve called the whole evening a colossal waste of time if it hadn’t been for you.’
It feels like my heart stops and then restarts. ‘Me?’
Hoxton nods and offers me a soft, warm smile. ‘That was best meal I’d had in years. Going to that dinner was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made in my life because it led to you.’
A nervous laugh escapes me before I can stop it and I try my best to deflect. ‘You’re really laying it on thick now, aren’t you?’
He shrugs, but his smile doesn’t falter. ‘Maybe, but I don’t think you hear it enough. Definitely not enough from me, and you should. Because it’s true. You’re amazing at what you do, Noelle.Youare amazing, Noelle.’
I shake my head. ‘You don’t even like me! I mean, well, youdidn’tlike me until very recently.’
Hoxton looks vaguely amused. ‘I’ve never not liked you, Noelle. I just… It’s just easier to keep people at a distance. People can’t disappoint you if you don’t give them the chance to know you.’
