Secret Wife

by Mia Carson

  “Oh! You’re so warm. I think I might just settle in here.”

  Walker prayed she would move before he had to do it for her and embarrass her.

  “Ah, Ms. Tindal,” Douglas announced, and Georgette’s arms disappeared from his torso. “Dinner is ready for you both in the dining room. Your usual red tonight?”

  “Yes, yes, Douglas, thank you,” Georgette said with an obnoxious wave of her hand.

  Walker wanted to marry, but he told his father over and over he wanted to find a wife for himself, a woman he could stand for more than a few hours. Maybe even a woman who wasn’t a spoiled brat and accustomed to a life of leisure and being waited on hand and foot. The Tindals weren’t as wealthy as the Allards, but they came from old money just the same. Leo had his money on Georgette. Walker wanted to tell him not to hold his breath.

  “Shall we?” He offered her his arm, and they strolled into the lodge-style dining room with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the grounds around his home. He pulled out her chair as Douglas poured two glasses of red and returned to the kitchen for dinner. “Should we drink to anything special this evening?” he asked once he took his seat.

  “To many more nights enjoying each other’s company,” she purred and raised her glass.

  Walker clinked his glass against hers, but when the time came to drink, he sealed his lips. Her words sounded innocent, but that slinky black dress told him a completely different story. The past few dates with her had been the same. She’d tried to get him into bed, and he politely thought of excuses for her to leave. He was running out of ideas, though, and worried he would have to come clean and tell her that though he found her quite attractive, she was not the woman he wanted to marry, let alone fall into bed with. He knew her type, had been with them before. The second he took her to bed, she would think he belonged to her.

  Douglas brought out dinner and they ate, chatting about their days and her plans for spring. She technically had no job and spent her days spending her family’s money and, from what he understood, being a terror to the house staff. She told him a while back about her prospects of finally doing something with her business degree, but nothing ever happened with that plan.

  When dinner was finished, Douglas cleared the plates away and brought out two slices of chocolate cake and coffee.

  “Oh, I really shouldn’t,” Georgette fussed.

  “Why not? It’s dessert and it’s the weekend,” Walker argued.

  “I’m on a diet.”

  “What for? You’re thinner than a bleeding tree.”

  She beamed and he bit his tongue instead of the cake. His eyes watered and he cursed himself mentally for saying anything at all. “That’s because you haven’t seen all of me.”

  Douglas cleared his throat loudly from the kitchen doorway, and Walker breathed a sigh of relief as Georgette’s hand, which had been creeping closer to Walker, fell back to her lap. “Sorry for the intrusion, sir, but you have a phone call.”

  “Can it wait?” Georgette complained.

  “I’m afraid it’s your father,” Douglas said with a faint wrinkle to his brow.

  Walker swallowed his mouthful of cake and washed it down with his coffee. “I’ll be back as quick as I can,” he told Georgette and stood from the table. He stepped into the kitchen behind Douglas and hung his head as the door closed. “How do you always know when I need to be rescued?”

  Douglas tapped the side of his nose. “Intuition.”

  “How long before she gets annoyed enough to leave?”

  “Ten minutes? Perhaps more. Here,” he said and handed him a glass of amber liquid. “Take this and hide in the pantry for a while. I’ll collect you when it’s safe.”

  Walker didn’t argue. Douglas was a better man than he deserved. The pantry was large and had a convenient stool in there for him to use. He could go to his office, but he would have to pass through the dining room again and Georgette would most likely follow him, insisting on speaking with his father to know why he’d interrupted their date. As he sipped the brandy, he mulled it over in his mouth while he examined his life closely. Sitting in a pantry, hiding from dates… this was what his life was reduced to.

  Many men in his position would take every chance they had to sleep with these phenomenal women, but Walker had had his time as a playboy. The routine grew old, and after a while, all he wanted was someone he could come home to at the end of the day, someone he could snuggle with on the couch before a roaring fire. Someone who wouldn’t drive him insane with pointless talking for hours on end. He wanted a kiss to mean more, to set him alight and make him feel…anything.

  Georgette was not that woman.

  A while later, the door opened and Douglas poked his head inside. “She is at the door, ready to leave, but insists you leave your business long enough to wish her farewell.”

  “That I can do.”

  He shot back the rest of his brandy and sauntered away to wish his date a fond goodnight, not looking forward to when he would have to see her again.

  Walker was uncomfortable and the meeting had barely started. Leo sat beside him as the banker typed away on his computer before them. The meeting had started five minutes ago, and they were currently finding out how much was owed on the restaurant loan as well as how much the seller was asking for the lodge.

  “It appears,” the banker, Mr. Sanders, finally said, “the lodge currently has a price tag of two million on it. It has been on the market for a while, however, and I’m certain the seller would be willing to negotiate.”

  “And the Jaybird’s Roost?” Walker asked, trying to sound as authoritative as his father.

  “That is another story altogether. The owner had placed a hefty down payment, but over the years, his payments have grown smaller. He’s barely covering the minimum amount due each month.”

  “How much is owed?”

  “With interest? Nearly eight-hundred-thousand,” Mr. Sanders said. “It appears they have a few other debts from their house and their daughter’s culinary education, as well as Mr. Wilson’s other debts from renovating the restaurant.”

  Walker’s leg bounced nervously. He couldn’t do this, could he? Be this heartless to people clearly in need of proper assistance?

  “Walker,” his father whispered harshly.

  “Yes… we are interested in purchasing the lodge property as well as the restaurant that was originally part of that property,” he announced. “The hotel I presume we will have to purchase from you, of course, and the rest will be taken care of once we purchase the loan.”

  “I’ll have the appropriate papers drawn up for you. If you would wait here? Once we have everything ready, we’ll need your lawyer to go with ours as we acquire the hotel property first. As far as the restaurant, I’m afraid that falls on you to remove the current owner.”

  Walker thanked the man, a forced polite smile on his face, and tugged at his suit jacket.

  “Once this is taken care of, you’ll have to spend time hiring new staff for the lodge and the restaurant,” Leo said.

  “The restaurant has a full staff,” Walker said, confused. “Why would I need a new one?”

  “You know how we do things, son. You get rid of the old and bring in the new. People you can trust, who you can control,” he said matter-of-factly. “You will let them all go.”

  “Their chef is the reason it does so well. I can’t simply get rid of him.”

  Leo turned a stern gaze to his son, removed his glasses, and leaned closer. “You will do as I tell you to. That chef can leave his recipes and everything else behind, but he goes with the rest of the staff. Chefs are easy to replace, as you well know. You go through, what, one a month?”

  Walker’s lips thinned in annoyance. “I am not a restaurant and my chefs only have to cook for one person. This is an upper-scale restaurant with an amazing reputation. You truly wish to put it on the line when we’re about to reopen the lodge for the summer?”

  “I trust you to do what is n
ecessary and find the right person for the job.” Leo cleaned his glasses with a small, white cloth before he placed them on his face. “Was I wrong to trust you so soon?”

  Walker stilled, feeling his chance at freedom slipping away. “No, you were not.”

  “Good. By tomorrow, you will be in control of the lodge, which we’ll have to rebrand, and this Jaybird’s Roost. I suggest you change the name as well so it matches the lodge.”

  “Not only am I laying off a decent number of people, you wish me to rub salt in their wounds.”

  “This is business, Walker. You can’t take it personally.”

  “Maybe not, but I’m fairly certain they will.”

  “Go take a walk.”

  Walker frowned. “What did you say?”

  “I am telling you to take a walk and clear your head. You’re not in your right mind, and if you continue to fight me at every turn of this deal, I will have another take it over. Is that what you wish?”

  Walker rose and buttoned his jacket as he said, “No, it’s not. You’re right, I’m not thinking clearly.” He nodded to his father and stepped outside, but all the cold air did was remind him that the people he would lay off would face a jobless winter when it was cold. What happened if they couldn’t pay their bills? If they lost their heat or their homes? His father might not have a conscience about making such quick, harmful decisions, but Walker didn’t want the reputation his father had. Ruthless. Cold-hearted.

  Walker would go through with what his father wanted, but he wouldn’t like it. The day would come when he could break away from this mess and find his own way to do business—the correct way. One that didn’t leave him stuck with a woman he didn’t like as a wife and being hated by the hundreds of people he’d put out of business and fired.

  Resolved to make it through this deal, if only to prove to his father he was no longer a child, he walked back inside and signed the papers that would give him the lodge. Later that afternoon, they would purchase the loan of the restaurant, and in a few days, that too would be theirs.

  3

  Wednesdays were typically the slowest nights of the week, and Jaylyn expected this night to be like every other week. The kitchen was staffed lighter tonight, and the dining room was only about half full. She let the subject drop about her dad needing to get to the doctor and focused on running a great kitchen. If his illness grew too serious, she could only hope her mom would drag his ass to the hospital and be done with it.

  “Right, I’m taking a break,” she announced, tossing the towel from her shoulder into the dirty bin. “Frankie. You’re in charge.”

  He saluted her and handed his spatula to another cook as he took over Jaylyn’s spot, reading new tickets. Whenever Darien made her officially the owner, she couldn’t spend all her time in the kitchen as head chef. Frankie was the best candidate for taking over. He knew how she expected dishes to come out of the kitchen, knew her recipes as well as she did, and knew how to keep a cool head when things went to shit. If ever that day came, she’d be ready with Frankie by her side.

  She sat down at the bar and ordered a pop to enjoy for a few minutes. The regulars waved to her and she smiled back. Her parents sat at their usual table. She wanted to join them, but their faces were both set and they appeared to be having a rather heated discussion. It wasn’t like them to get so riled up while at the restaurant, but they weren’t yelling. She wondered what the problem could be and her mind drifted to the suited men she saw at the mall and a phone call she’d received a few days ago.

  Hannah had called her saying a man who claimed to merely be visiting had popped into the bar. She claimed he was one of the suits she saw walking around the other day, but Jaylyn told her not to assume anything yet. For all they knew, he was simply passing through—though passing through to where was the better question.

  As Jaylyn drank her pop, she saw the doors open and a man bustled in with a very intent look on his face. He whispered to the hostess, and she frowned, shaking her head. The man held up a stack of papers, shaking them in her face. Jaylyn hopped off her stool and hurried to the man.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, crossing her arms and glaring at him.

  “I am looking for Mr. Darien Wilson,” he snapped.

  “And you needed to yell at my hostess for what reason?”

  He huffed. “She told me Mr. Wilson does not see anyone except customers during business hours.”

  “She’s not wrong. Mr. Wilson will see you if you call and make an appointment.”

  “He’s not a CEO! It shouldn’t be this difficult to speak to him.” The man tried to see around Jaylyn, but she kept moving, blocking his sight. “I must speak with him. It’s urgent business.”

  “Involving what?”

  “His business.”

  Jaylyn’s chest tightened. “And? Give me something specific or I’ll throw you out of here for disrupting our guests.”

  “They are no longer your guests,” the man seethed.

  Jaylyn started to laugh, not sure what the man was playing at, but he shook the papers in his hand. “What are you saying?”

  “Exactly what you think I’m saying. Where is he?”

  Jaylyn’s thumbnail dug into her palm, but she pointed back to her parents’ table. “I’ll take you to him,” she said slowly and led the way through the tables, putting a smile on her face for the sake of the people enjoying their dinners. “Dad? This man says he needs to talk to you about the restaurant.”

  Darien stood. “Darien Wilson,” he said, holding out his hand. The man shook it. “What can I do for you, Mister…”

  “Ullie, Gregory Ullie,” the man said. “I’m afraid it’s regarding your loan.”

  “My loan? You’re not from the bank,” Darien said, confused.

  “No, I represent the people who currently possess your loan—all of your loans.”

  Darien’s face paled and Mariah was on her feet, too. “Jaylyn, go back to the kitchen, please,” Darien instructed. “I’m sure Frankie probably needs you by now.”

  “Dad, what’s going on?” she asked, but he didn’t even look at her.

  “Now, please.”

  She shot the man one more annoyed look but did as her dad asked, though she hated walking away. She hung around near the doorway of the kitchen, but they were speaking too quietly for her to hear over the din of the kitchen.

  “What are you doing?” Frankie asked in her ear, and she jumped, smacking him in the arm.

  “Why do you keep trying to give me a heart attack?”

  “Because it’s so easy. Why are you eavesdropping at your own kitchen door?” He looked over her head out the circular window. “Who’s with Darien?”

  “Some asshole who said something about the restaurant not being ours anymore.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know, it’s just what he said. That and something about the loans.” She shook her head and moved away from the door when her mom glanced over. “I don’t like this, and he kicked me back to the kitchen.”

  “You want me to go out there and sit at the bar? Just glare at the guy?”

  “Yes, but not now,” she muttered. “I guess we’ll get back to work and Dad will fill me in later.”

  They pushed through the dinner and the minor rush they had at the end of the evening. Jaylyn threw herself into her work, calling out tickets and keeping her hands busy so she wouldn’t dig her thumb into her palm and get another lecture from Frankie. By the time the last ticket went out, she was mentally drained and worried because she hadn’t seen her parents at all. Frankie shooed her away to go figure out what was happening, letting her team handle the cleanup.

  She pushed through the doors, surprised to see her parents at the bar with drinks in their hands instead of at their table. “What’s going on?” she asked, looking around for the man.

  “Sit down, Lyn,” Darien said, patting the empty seat beside him.

  Jaylyn didn’t move. “No. Tell me what’s going on.”
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  Darien glanced at his wife and she nodded. He slid the stack of papers down the bar, and Jaylyn picked them up with a shaking hand. “You remember this restaurant was originally part of the old lodge?” he asked and she bobbed her head. “Someone has decided to purchase the lodge and all the surrounding property.”

  “But they can’t buy the restaurant,” she argued. “It’s not for sale.”

  “No, but we don’t own it outright. We have loans, and the Allard Investment Firm has purchased our loans in order to reopen the lodge and include our restaurant as part of it.”

  Jaylyn skimmed through the pages, but the legal lingo only pissed her off. “I don’t understand. What does this mean for us? Are we still open? Is it still our place?” she rambled, her heart pounding and her palms sweaty.

  “We don’t know yet,” Darien admitted roughly. “We’re not sure what’s going to happen.”

  “What…what do we do? Can’t we fight this?”

  “With what money?” he asked hotly, sucking in a deep breath when she flinched. “I’m sorry, but we know as much as you do right now.”

  She sank onto a stool. “What do I tell my crew?”

  “You tell them nothing,” he said sharply. “I don’t want morale to tank.”

  “They have a right to know if they’re going to lose their jobs.”

  Darien stood, taking the papers with him. “The lawyer assured us the Allards will do their best to keep as many jobs as possible.”

  “And you trust them?”

  “No, but we don’t have another choice. If you tell people now, they might quit anyway and then what will we do? You keep this to yourself, Lyn. Do you under…underst—” his harsh coughing cut off his words, and he shoved a handkerchief to his mouth, pushing away from her and Mariah as he disappeared down the short hall to the office.

  Mariah sighed and Jaylyn was at a loss. “He’s under a lot of stress right now.”

  “Because he’s sick and won’t admit it,” she muttered.

  “You don’t understand what he’s going through,” Mariah said roughly. “Let it go for now, Lyn. We’ll deal with this how we’ve dealt with everything, but don’t add to his stress by demanding answers from him.”