The Chef's Cutie (The River Hill Series Book 5)

by Rebecca Norinne

  With her body sated and her heart full, she’d wanted to tell him that she didn’t need any more time. That she was all in. But somehow she couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

  Since applying for the job in Miami and not getting it, she’d also applied for lesser positions in Boston and Charlotte. They weren’t what she wanted, but Lizzie could only hold out for so long as her savings were slowly dwindling away. And she’d all but given up hope on getting accepted to the grad school she’d applied to. It was the opportunity she was still most excited about, but the date for acceptance notification had passed last week with not so much as a peep. Some people might think no news was good news, but in this case, she couldn’t help but feel like she’d been passed over.

  With one last lingering glance toward where Max was standing talking to Angelica’s mom, Lizzie wondered if not getting the job in Miami and not being accepted to the program were the signs she’d been waiting for. Maybe the universe was telling her that giving up her career to be with Max and Mia was the right move. There were worse things in life than a loving boyfriend.

  And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to believe that. She’d worked too hard and for too long to get to where she was to just, what … give up? No, she couldn’t reconcile that. And yet it seemed like the only way she could be with him was to do just that.

  Whoever said women really could have it all can go jump in a lake, Lizzie thought. Because as far as she could tell, she could either have her career, or she could have Max. Both were simply not an option. She would have found a way by now if it were.

  With a heavy heart, she stepped into a bathroom stall and sank down onto the closed toilet seat. Heedless of the makeup she’d spent nearly an hour applying, she let her face fall into her open palms. For the next few minutes, she allowed herself to just wallow. She’d been holding back tears of frustration for days, and here, surrounded by so much love and happiness and hope for the future, she just couldn’t take it anymore.

  She was jobless. She was loveless. She was aimless.

  She was tired.

  With that reality acknowledged, she wiped her nose, dabbed her eyes, and righted her appearance as best she could in the privacy of the small stall. Just then, she heard the sound of the bathroom door opening, and Naomi and Maeve’s laughter floated toward her.

  “Poor guy,” Naomi said. “He’s got it bad.”

  Maeve chuckled, but the loud noise from the hand dryer drowned out whatever she’d said in response.

  Lizzie could have joined her friends then, but she didn’t want them to know that she’d been crying. She’d have to explain why, and that would set off her tears all over again. So instead, she sat back down and pulled her feet up onto the toilet seat to wait them out. Just when she thought they were finally finishing up, the door to the bathroom opened again, and another set of women joined them. Lizzie didn’t recognize the voices, but the women obviously knew Naomi as they immediately launched into what felt like might be a lengthy conversation about her upcoming exhibition.

  Not wanting to eavesdrop, Lizzie reached into her purse and, as quietly as she could, slid her phone out, setting her thumb to the circle at the bottom to bring it to life. She refreshed her email app, and nearly jumped off her perch. With shaking hands, she clicked on the sender’s name and clamped her emotions down in a stranglehold.

  Dear Ms. Teague, we are writing to follow up on your acceptance to the graduate program in Counseling and Therapeutic Play at Patterson University. We sent you a letter of acceptance and an information packet to the address listed on your application, but as we have not heard back from you, I wanted to personally follow up to make sure that you are still interested in joining us for the Summer semester. If you could let me know your decision by March 21, we’d greatly appreciate it.

  There was more, but Lizzie stopped reading.

  She’d been accepted.

  She let out the breath she’d been holding since seeing the program chair’s name on her screen, and looked to the ceiling, tears forming anew.

  She’d done it.

  Despite not having taken the GRE; despite inching dangerously close to the backside of her thirties; despite not having a letter of recommendation from her last boss, she’d gotten into grad school. She was going to Portland!

  Her elation quickly faded.

  With a painful churning in her gut, she realized that also meant she was leaving Max and Mia. From somewhere deep inside her subconscious came a thought she’d never wanted to give voice to: this was always going to happen. All these weeks, she’d let herself outwardly believe that she might discover some hidden, magical way for them to be together, but that was never how their story was going to unfold.

  Only now could she acknowledge that she’d known this all along.

  It was why she’d put up one roadblock after another. Why even when she’d found professional articles to support pursuing a relationship with Max, she’d kept on looking for others that said the opposite. Consciously, she’d assumed she was trying her best to be with him. Subconsciously, however, she recognized that she’d actually been sabotaging any chance they’d ever had.

  Because she was always going to leave him.

  Whether for grad school or for one of those far-flung job opportunities, she’d been on her way out all along.

  And now she wondered if by keeping him at arms’ length, she’d been protecting them both.

  She let out another long sigh, and realized the restroom had fallen quiet again. She listened for a few more seconds to make sure it wasn’t just a lull in the conversation, and when she was confident she was alone, she slid from the stall. She checked her reflection in the mirror to make sure her makeup wasn’t too badly smudged, and finding that it didn’t look as bad as she feared, made her way to the door. She squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and prepared herself to go back out there and wish the happy couple congratulations one final time before their wedding tomorrow.

  I can do this.

  That was her mantra the entire way down the hall and out into the main dining space. She kept repeating it to herself as she located Angelica and Noah off in the far corner, surrounded by a bevy of well wishers. Those were the words echoing in her head so loudly that she didn’t hear her name being called until it was too late.

  “Hey,” Max said, stepping in front of her, effectively blocking her path. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  As quickly as she could, Lizzie pasted a mask of polite interest on her face. She couldn’t let him see what she was really feeling. He didn’t deserve to know what she’d only just discovered herself a few minutes ago.

  She was in love with him, and she was going to leave him.

  It was better if she only broke one of their hearts today.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, proud to hear her voice didn’t shake the way her knees were. Quickly, she offered up a silent thanks for all the years of practice she had at masking her outward emotions while inwardly she wanted nothing more than to rail at the fates for all the ways the world was fucked up beyond belief. Not that she would ever equate her situation with some of the tragedies she’d witnessed over the years as a social worker, but if she could keep calm in the face of all of that, she could do so now—no matter what it might personally cost her. “I was in the bathroom. You know how it is. Lots of waiting in line.”

  Max peered down at her, his eyes flicking between hers with a touch of concern.

  Her voice might not be shaking, but it had sounded overly bright, even to her own ears. She cleared her throat, and spoke again, hoping she could get out of there before her mask started to crack any further. “I was just going to say goodbye to Angelica and Noah, and then head home. I imagine you’ll be here a bit longer though? ”

  He cleared his throat, too, and took a small, hesitant step forward. He lifted his right hand as if he was going to touch her, but then dropped it back down to his thigh where his fingers beat a staccato rhythm against
his leg. “Another couple of hours, at least. Mr. and Mrs. Travis took Mia home with them since she was getting tired. I was hoping we could talk about—”

  “Max?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Please, don’t say it.”

  “Say what?” he asked. This time, when he lifted his hand, he did reach out to take hold of Lizzie’s. “What’s wrong, baby?”

  When Lizzie felt her bottom lip tremble at the quiet endearment, she bit down on it. Hard. She shook her head. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

  He stared at her for a few beats in which she silently prayed for him to exercise a little bit of self preservation. But that wasn’t who Max was, she knew. With him, everyone else always came first. “Lizzie … please. I love—”

  She yanked her hand away and slapped her palm over his mouth. “I’m begging you. Please don’t say it.”

  She watched as a bevy of emotions flashed across his expressive eyes. Confusion. Hurt. Anger. And then finally, resignation. Slowly, when she trusted him not to say the words that would break her, she dragged her hand away. “I just found out that I was accepted to grad school.” His lips parted to speak, but she plunged on to prevent him from saying anything. “The program’s at Patterson University. In Portland.” It was at this point she realized that she’d never mentioned the program’s location when they’d talked about it. Had she been vague on purpose? Had she lied by omission? Briefly, she wondered what else she’d kept locked inside of her instead of sharing with him.

  Max took a tiny step back and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “Congratulations,” he said, he voice hoarse with heavy emotion. “I’m proud of you, Lizzie.”

  She wrapped her arms around her middle. “I have to take it, Max.”

  He nodded slowly as understanding settled over his handsome features. “Ah.”

  “Yeah. Ah.”

  “When do you leave?”

  “I don’t know exactly. Soon. The semester starts June first.”

  He nodded again. “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  He rocked back on his heels, and when he spoke next, his voice was more resolute. “Yes, okay. We’ll figure this out.”

  She was about to tell him she didn’t know how when they were interrupted. “There’s an issue in the kitchen, boss. Wendy needs you ASAP.”

  Max cursed, and his head fell back to glare up at the ceiling. He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like if the building isn’t on fire I’m going to strangle her as he pinched his nose and blew out a breath. After a few seconds, his face dropped forward again, and he stared beseechingly at Lizzie. “Stay. Please.”

  Lizzie held her breath for what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a second or two. Wendy wouldn’t have sent someone looking for Max if it weren’t truly important. Whatever was going on in the kitchen required his undivided attention, and he wouldn’t be able to give it if she was sitting out here waiting for him to finish up. And yet, she also knew he wouldn’t go investigate if she didn’t agree to stay.

  She crossed the fingers that were tucked up against her side and nodded.

  Relief shone starkly in his amber eyes as he squeezed her arm. “Thank you.”

  When he turned to follow his young employee to the kitchen, Lizzie held her breath again. And the second he crossed through the swinging double doors, she let it out. She couldn’t stop the tears that followed as she turned and practically ran for the door.

  19

  The building hadn’t quite been on fire, but the grinding noises the main refrigerator had been making had been almost as bad. Between scrambling with his staff to find alternate storage for nearly all of the perishables for the wedding reception the next day, and then working with Wendy and one of the waiters who was getting a degree in mechanical engineering to haul the thing away from the wall, Max hadn’t left the kitchen again until well past four o’clock in the morning.

  By then, Lizzie had been long gone, and he couldn’t blame her—he’d sent somebody to give her a message when he’d realized how bad the fridge situation was, but they hadn’t been able to locate her in the chaos. He didn’t know when, exactly, she left, but he had a sneaking suspicion that she’d snuck out shortly after he’d been abruptly called away. He knew her well enough to understand the look on her face as he’d turned to leave. He thought he had a pretty good idea of what had been going through her mind, and none of it was good.

  He blew out a frustrated breath and scrubbed his hand over his face. He’d managed to get about an hour of sleep before it was time to be up again. He’d shaved as carefully as he could manage, thrown his tux in the Land Rover, and greeted a sleepy Ben, who’d agreed to take Mia over to The Oakwell Inn later. Leaving Ben to crash on his couch for another couple of hours until Mia woke up, Max had driven to Frankie’s, distracting himself with prep work and cooking. Despite catering the wedding, the restaurant would stay open for both its regular lunch and dinner service, so he and Wendy had split up the tasks for today.

  Now, he was done and ready to pack everything up. His catering manager, Piper, had just shown up with the van to transport the first load. Normally, when Max catered events, he spent his time behind the food, smiling and serving the guests. This was the first time he had to abandon his post to be a groomsman, but he trusted his staff implicitly. Piper, one of the most stoically calm people Max had ever met, had everything under control. It was only his nerves that made him triple-check everything.

  All right. So maybe it wasn’t just his nerves about the wedding acting up. This gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach had nothing to do with catering or food. He could do all that in his sleep.

  The reality was that he needed to talk to Lizzie, and until he did, he would continue to feel unsettled.

  Unfortunately, when he arrived at The Oakwell Inn a few minutes later, she wasn’t there. But that made sense, he told himself. She was only a guest, after all, not a member of the wedding party like himself. The bridesmaids—Naomi, Jess, and Maeve, and the Gentleman of Honor, Angelica’s agent Jai, were fluttering around the house getting ready and bringing various things up to the largest of the guest suites, which Angelica had designated as the bridal suite. Noah, Sean, and Iain were over at the house next door, and Ben would join them after he dropped Mia off with Elaine Travis in an hour or so. Max would do the same after he helped Piper and the crew unload the van.

  He checked his watch to note the time. Between now and when the wedding started, he didn’t think he’d have a spare minute to track Lizzie down, but he’d have to try.

  Three hours later, with a growing sense of urgency, he scanned the crowd seated in the inn’s expansive back field. He stood next to Sean under a wide oak canopy that shaded them all from the sun’s glowing rays. The baker stood next to Noah, as he’d refused to designate any of them as his best man. Because everyone knew Sean was the most responsible one among them, he’d been given the place of honor next to the groom to catch him if he fainted. There’d been a round of cheerful insults from Noah when they’d informed him of this plan, but he did look awfully pale as he waited for Angelica to come around the corner and make her entrance. He’d waited a long time for his bride. They all knew she was going to show up—she’d orchestrated what felt like the wedding of the century, after all—but the groom couldn’t be blamed for a flicker of nervousness anyway.

  Noah wasn’t the only man standing up here who was fighting not to let his nerves get the best of him. Max surveyed the crowd again. He couldn’t find Lizzie—hadn’t seen her the entire time guests had been arriving, actually—and it was making him want to bolt for the end of the aisle to go and find her.

  He’d known Angelica had invited a lot of people, but he hadn’t quite realized what she’d meant when she’d smugly told him the wedding was going to be An Event, with capital letters so obvious you could hear them in her voice.

  Half of River Hill was here, of course—Angelica was on the tourism board, and she knew every small
business owner in town. Noah’s family were celebrity winemakers in their own right, so Carter Bradstone was holding court with his socialite wife and daughters on the groom’s side next to—Max squinted—was that the Clooneys? Sometimes he forgot that while Angelica was the celebrity—as evidenced by the flock of actresses crying prettily on the other side of the crowd—Noah had grown up in rarefied circles himself, though he usually pretended otherwise. Naomi’s parents were here, too, which only made sense since she and Noah had known each other their whole lives, and their parents had once plotted to marry them off to one another.

  In addition to it being his good friends’ special day, Max knew he should be focusing on the fact that this was an opportunity for him. Everyone here was a potential client, some of them were potential investors, and Angelica had been blunt when she’d told him to impress them. “I heard about the franchising,” she’d casually mentioned when she’d chosen the last few dishes for the menu. “Blow these people’s minds, Max, and then sit back and watch as they throw their money at you.”

  Far be it from him to disobey a direct order from the star of RenoTV’s flagship show. There were several network executives, as well as a few other renovation show hosts in the crowd, too. He let his eyes wander slowly over the guests one more time, recognizing a few of the local farmers on Noah’s side, and a few actors on Angelica’s side, before landing on the very last row.

  There she was.

  Lizzie sat quietly in the second chair in the row, penned in by Mia next to her, watching with a wistful expression on her face as Noah and Angelica said their vows. Max felt his entire body clench with the effort it took to not walk straight over to her.

  Ben’s knee nudged into his. “You all right?” Max gave a tiny nod, his eyes never leaving Lizzie.

  After what felt like an eternity, Noah and Angelica wrapped up their vows. The mayor of River Hill, who’d cheerfully agreed to officiate when Angelica had asked, pronounced them married, and the bride wrapped her arms around the groom’s neck to deliver a kiss that had the audience cheering. She ended it with a wink to someone who was wearing a press badge that indicated they were a photographer from Martha Stewart Weddings, and took Noah’s arm for the processional down the aisle and back toward the inn.