Page 8 of The Rebel with Broken Strings
Drawing in a deliberate, anchoring breath, Aubrey forced herself back into the present—back to The Naked Moose and the hard-won life she had clawed back piece by piece.
She’d won, yet the victory felt as fractured as her past—a step forward shadowed by every man who had ever wronged her.
Exhaling sharply, her breath stirring scattered papers, she rose. Squaring her shoulders, she left the office and returned to the kitchen, where the familiar clatter of sizzling pans and gleaming stainless steel battled the heaviness of her thoughts. There, Chef Miguel—a recent hire who had stepped in so Aubrey could channel her energy into her passion rather than endless cooking—moved with quiet assurance.
Miguel, with his deep-set, intense brown eyes, trendy undercut and neatly trimmed beard framing his strong jawline, exuded a warmth that contrasted sharply with her inner chill. His sun-kissed skin and crisp white chef’s coat, adorned by his name in elegant black cursive, lent him an air of confident artistry.
“Settlement’s done,” Aubrey announced, her voice wavering between relief and lingering grief.
“Ah, congratulations,” Miguel replied, his accent wrapping his words in a comforting tone. “Now, let’s see that passion in your salsa verde, sí?”
In his presence, Aubrey’s mind flickered between fighting her inner demons and the simple need to escape them. Approaching the prep station where knives lay among vibrant herbs, she confessed, “It’s been a while since I’ve allowed myself to just play with flavors.”
“Then let’s play,” Miguel grinned, with a spark of mischief and encouragement.
As the sizzle of onions filled the room and the inviting perfume of fresh cilantro nudged at her senses, her hand clutched the chef’s knife with a steady determination that belied the conflict inside her. Pausing with the blade hovered over a bright tomato, a sudden flash of a past encounter stirred—a memory of Gunner’s reckless kiss, the unbidden touch that sought to reduce her to a pawn of lust.
“Easy now,” Chef Miguel interjected softly, his voice smoothing over the rough edges of her spiraling recollections. “That tomato has done nothing wrong.”
Blinking to dispel the haze of memory, Aubrey managed a shaky chuckle as the tension unfurled like steam escaping a pressure cooker. “You’re right,” she conceded, rolling her shoulders in a feeble attempt to recapture her rhythm. “I got a little lost in the sauce there.”
“Lost in the sauce, huh?” Miguel teased lightly, his glance warm but perceptive. “Sometimes though, getting lost is the only way to discover new flavors.”
Grateful for his lighthearted banter—a brief reprieve from the relentless churn of her past—she met his eyes. In Timber Falls, survival wasn’t merely about enduring the heat of her memories; it was about learning to thrive amidst it.
“Ain’t that the truth,” she laughed, the sound mingling with the simmering chaos around them. She finished chopping the tomatoes and put the knife down, turning to Miguel. “You’re all good here?”
“I’m on it,” Miguel replied.
Aubrey offered him a tentative smile as her senses navigated the organized chaos. The sound of a knife scraping against a chopping board mingled with the warmth radiating from the stoves, and even the pervasive scent of garlic felt like a bittersweet reminder of both home and change as she pushed open the swinging door to the main bar. The bar’s modern industrial style clashed against the rustic charm of Timber Falls. Her eyes drifted over the exposed brick walls adorned with local art—a moose head sporting a pink feather boa and sparkly sunglasses—and the string lights weaving uncertain patterns above.
Inside, sunlight filtered through tall windows. There, behind the bar, were Willow and Charly. “I won,” Aubrey declared, the words tumbling out unexpectedly. “The civil suit against Chef Bisset. It’s over.”
The revelation hit the room like a sudden, turbulent storm—intense and unanticipated. Charly’s practiced movements faltered, and the towel in her hand fell to the floor as her eyes widened. In moments Charly encircled Aubrey, engulfing her in an embrace that was as comforting as it was overwhelming. Willow dropped the inventory clipboard and joined in, her arms wrapping around Aubrey with an intensity that spoke of both pride and concern.
“You did it!” Charly exclaimed, her voice bubbling with joy, yet her gaze held a trace of something unspoken. Pulling back slightly, she searched Aubrey’s eyes as if seeking reassurance. “I always knew you would.”
Willow’s embrace tightened, her tone low and fierce. “You held that bastard accountable,” she said, her voice resonating with pride yet edged with unresolved anger.
Aubrey’s breath caught, a sharp reminder that victory often came with its own burden. “I still can’t believe it,” she murmured, softer now, conflicted between elation and the heavy realization of what she had endured. “It finally…feelsover.”
“And now everyone sees the truth about him,” Charly added quietly. “Your win will spread, and his name will be ruined now.”
Aubrey swallowed hard, fighting back the lump in her throat. In that moment, she recognized how desperately she had needed this—awin.
Willow pulled back slightly, her hands still resting on Aubrey’s shoulders. “I’m so proud of you, Aubs,” she whispered.
Aubrey managed a nod, her voice failing her as she struggled to keep her composure. She would have to call her mother later, when she wasn’t so sure her tears would betray her. The past year—a collage of humiliation, doubt, and leaving everything behind—flashed in her mind, a reminder that even victories left scars.
Taking a steadying breath, Aubrey let the familiar air of The Naked Moose fill her lungs. “Thanks for being there through all of it,” she said.
Willow rolled her eyes in an affectionate, knowing manner. “You say that like it was ever in question,” she retorted, though her smile betrayed her seriousness.
Charly squeezed Aubrey’s hand briefly. “We always knew you’d come out on top, even if it felt impossible,” she said gently.
A shaky laugh escaped Aubrey. “Well, I’m glad you were so sure, because I was full of doubts.” She opened her arms eagerly, drawing Willow and Charly into a tight embrace. “Love you guys,” she murmured.
“Love you too,” they replied in unison.
