Page 13 of Sunshine
“But…” I catch the back of my neck while I watch Izzy at the table, her dark head bowed over her book as she flips over another page, her eyes not leaving the story as she sets down her toast and picks up her juice. “She seems fine now?”
“I agree.” Charlie crosses her arms over her chest and regards Izzy alongside me. “So maybe it was just a bad morning. Maybe she didn’t sleep well. It’s probably no big deal, but it’s never happened with me before, and I thought you should know.”
I pull on my shoulder as the knotted muscle in my trap twitches, and I consider telling Charlie about the difficulty Izzy has been having falling asleep. I don’t know why the words won’t come. Maybe I’m still hoping it’s a phase. Maybe talking about it will make it feel more important than it is or has to be. And maybe these are the kinds of things that parents are supposed to worry about. Mothers and fathers. Not uncles and aunts.
I set a palm on Charlie’s shoulder. “I appreciate you telling me, and I’ll take care of it.”
She gives my hand a reassuring pat. “There’s one more thing I need to talk to you about. A business thing.”
Something in my sister’s tone makes my stomach drop. “What is it?”
“We can’t keep the second dining room closed much longer.”
I groan and drop my head back. “Come on, Charlie. We talked about this.”
“I know, but this isgoodnews, Dylan.” She gestures around the restaurant. “Look at this place. Every table is occupied—on a Monday morning! This time twelve months ago, we weren’t even open for breakfast on weekdays. Now we’re turning people away.”
“Yeah, I get it. But I don’t have the bandwidth to run a larger operation right now. I’d have to hire new staff and expand the menu. That’ll impact stock levels and produce orders.” I shake my head, but it does nothing to shake off the building overwhelm. “I know it’s inevitable, and I’ll do it. I will. I just need a little more time.”
Charlie’s expression is firm but gentle as she sighs.
“When we landed the sponsorship contract with the San Francisco Fury, things changed,” she says. “We’ve got money again, and so far, we’ve spent it on upgrading the guest accommodations, renovating the old barn house, and preparing the horses and stables so we could re-establish trail rides. Butthose things are done—or almost done—and we agreed that once we took care of them, we’d focus on the restaurant. If we want to attract larger weddings and events this year—and we do want that, Dylan—your part of the business needs to grow along with the rest of the ranch.”
I drag a hand down my face, my attention drifting toward Izzy again. I can’t imagine taking on more responsibilities right now, but Charlie is right. The ranch was barely treading water for years after our parents died and now we’re finally making enough money to grow. I’ve got a duty to my family to pull my weight, and our success is Izzy’s success. One day, this place will belong to her.
“I know. You’re right,” I say. “I’ll start making plans.”
“Thank you, Dylan. Let’s set up a time to talk later today. I can help you with some of the forecasting and cost schedules, but I know you’ll want to do the hiring yourself.”
“Sounds good,” I lie. “I’ll come to your office between breakfast and lunch services.”
“I’ll be there.” Charlie’s focus slips from my face, shifting to something past my shoulder, and a smile tugs at her mouth. “Did somebody order a German governess?”
“What?”
I spin around and almost swallow my tongue as Poppy glides through the restaurant wearing white cowboy boots, tight blue jeans that hug her hips, a raspberry-colored sweater that clings to her curves, and her hair in an intricate mass of braids and mint-green ribbons twisted around her head like a crown.
Fuck. Me. Sideways.
“I thought it was time to upgrade the Pippi Longstocking joke,” Poppy says as she performs a slow, torturous twirl that shows off denim so worn there’s a tear in the ass, her pale skin underneath pebbled from the chill outside. She spins to a stop,and the scent of her cherry-flavored lip gloss floats in the air. “You can call me Fraulein Heidi, Mr. Davenport.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, ignoring the impulse to check out her chest on the chance her nipples are hard. “Aren’t youcold?”
Beside me, Charlie chuckles and gives me an encouraging pat on the back. “Good luck, little brother. I’ll see you later.”
I’m vaguely aware of my sister leaving the restaurant, but Poppy has all my attention as she grins like irritating me is her only purpose in life.
“What’s with the scrunchie?” she teases. “I thought professional chefs wore those funny white hats instead. You know? The tall ones that look like you’ve got a floppy white dick on your head?”
I glower like a grumpy old man, knowing she’s baiting me and unable to rise above it, mainly because while I don’t wear the kind of hat she’s referring to, I could totally pull it off if I wanted to.
“Why are you like this?” I demand.
She attempts a look of wide-eyed purity. “Like what?”
I press my eyes shut and take a recalibrating breath, but I can sense her eyeballing me—feel her delight and amusement—and it takes another moment to find my balance.
“Forget it,” I say as I open my eyes. “Do you want to join us for breakfast before Finn takes Izzy to school? The school run has been his thing this year, but if you don’t mind, I’d love you to do it starting tomorrow.”
