by Danni Rose
"Hello, folks. I'm Mason Reed, owner and chef of the restaurant. Your server said you're dissatisfied with your dinner. I offer my sincere apology. We won't charge you for this evening's meal."
The guests at the table grinned and looked at the gentleman in the gray suit. The distinguished man smiled and asked, "Are we agreed?"
The others at the table nodded. The man in the gray suit stood. "My name is Jasper Dodd. I am the head restaurant critic for The Epicurean magazine and host of the television show. A friend of mine told me about your restaurant and challenged me. He claimed it was impossible to give the restaurant, staff, or chef anything less than five stars. After enjoying our dinner this evening, we have determined he was correct."
The Epicurean was the premier food magazines in the United States and Europe. Mason hoped to get a review from a food magazine someday, but not the most prestigious one in the country. This man's opinion could make or destroy his restaurant.
"Mr. Dodd, welcome to Raison D'être."
The two men shook hands.
Mr. Dodd said, "Raison D'être is elegant with an intimate atmosphere. The waitstaff was pleasant and professional even when we became demanding. But the most important aspect, the food preparation and presentation, is superb. You are an exceptional chef." He pointed at his fellow diners. "We are unanimous in our five-star ratings in all categories."
"Thank you. This is an unexpected honor." Mason had never considered the possibility of this level of recognition.
Jasper said, "We'd like to have you appear on our show, The Epicurean. You'll receive the award and have an opportunity to prepare an entrée or dessert to demonstrate your cooking skill."
Overwhelmed, Mason said, "I don't know what to say."
"Mark this day in history. Mason is speechless." He turned to find Jesse and the rest of the staff standing behind him. The guests and employees laughed and applauded.
Later, while Amber and he had dinner at The Mill, they discussed the award and its effect on the business.
Amber's face lit with excitement when she said, "I knew you were a talented chef, but getting a five-star rating from The Epicurean is a major triumph. We'll send out press releases about the award and your appearance on the show. We'll use them as the cornerstone of your marketing plan."
"Do you think the award will bring guests into the B&B?"
"Yes. People will stay at the B&B so they can eat at the Raison D'être."
"I never expected such a prestigious award."
"What will you make when you're on the show?"
"It will depend on how much time they give me."
"We can have cards printed with the recipe on one side, and the information for the Inn on the other side. You can give the cards to anyone who wants the cooking instructions."
"That's an outstanding idea." He stroked his chin.
"You don't want to hear this, but you need a website. I've contacted a friend of mine who designs them, and she'll put together a few ideas for you to consider."
"For a year, I've avoided it." Mason rubbed the back of his neck. "But it was inevitable."
"It won't hurt—much." Amber laughed. "There's another idea you should consider. We can set up vacation packages for a weekend stay and a week's stay in the B&B that includes dinner in the restaurant. It will be a way to get a reservation in the restaurant. Unless you add lunch and dinner seatings?"
"If we're booked eighteen months out, how will we accommodate the B&B guests?"
"You'll have a special meal for B&B guests. Or you can add another seating for lunch and dinner."
"This is getting complicated and bigger than I expected."
"It's called success. I'm just asking you to consider these ideas. You don't have to decide now."
Mason stood. "Let's sit in the living room. We can talk about your ideas while we have a glass of Remy Martin to celebrate the award."
While he poured the cognac, Amber got comfortable on the sofa. He handed her a snifter. She lifted her glass and said, "To Mason Reed, an extraordinary chef who's made the Raison D'être a five-star success."
They clinked their glasses and drank. Mason sat next to Amber and slid his arm around her shoulders. He inhaled as he bent to kiss the soft skin below her ear. The fragrant aroma of orange blossoms and honey filled the air. "You smell better than my mango ambrosia."
"I smell like a fruit salad?"
"A luscious fruit salad." He licked around the edge of her ear. "But you taste much better."
Amber gave him a crooked smile. "I thought you wanted to talk?"
Mason blew a hot breath over her ear and grinned when she shivered. "Later."
CHAPTER EIGHT
The following weekend, Amber stayed with Mason. Saturday she woke early and used the time to move the financial information from her laptop to his computer. Then Amber printed the reports they needed to study the Inn's finances. As she suspected, the restaurant was doing well, but the bed-and-breakfast was not. If he didn't fix the problem, the B&B's losses could undermine the success of the Inn.
When Mason woke, he made pancakes for breakfast and licked the syrup from her lips. After cleaning the kitchen, Amber said, "I uploaded the financial information into your computer."
"You got that done sooner than you—"
"We have to talk." Her lips pressed into a straight line.
Mason's grin faded. "That sounds ominous."
"I printed the reports so we can study them." Amber said, "They're in your office."
They went over the figures. Then Amber said, "The numbers show a profit for the restaurant and a loss for the B&B. Bottom line, the Inn is losing money."
They discussed growing the business and made a list of ideas to put into the marketing plan.
Amber said, "You need to hire someone to handle the marketing."
Mason shook his head. "I can do it. Marketing isn't my favorite job, but I can handle it."
"We can put together a kick-ass plan, but it's no good if you don't put it into effect. If you handle the marketing, whatever we put together will have cobwebs within a month. You need someone who will follow through on our ideas."
He pursed his lips.
"Mason, you're a great cook and manager, but no one can do everything. Not even your father."
Amber went to get more coffee, but as she walked past Mason, he pulled her onto his lap. She wore his shirt. Mason wondered what she wore underneath it.
He slid his hand over her thighs until he reached her slit. He drew circles over her sensitive skin.
Amber jumped up and moved around the kitchen counter. "Oh, no you don't. I won't let you distract me. You can't make the problems with the bed-and-breakfast go away by ignoring them. I won't let you throw away your chance at success by hiding your head in the sand. It won't be easy, but you have an opportunity that other chefs would give their secret recipes to have."
Mason heaved a heavy sigh. "You're right. I need to hire someone. Will you take the job?"
"What? No." She paced across the kitchen. "I'm leaving town, remember?"
"You implement the plan, and we'll hire someone to replace you when you leave."
"Mason, it will be hours of work. With my studies and waitressing, I don't have time to handle the marketing too."
"If you give up your waitress job, you'd have enough time."
"I'll need that money when I move to New York."
"I'll make you the marketing director and pay you a salary that will be more than you could earn working in the restaurant even with tips." He rubbed his chin. "Think how good Marketing Director will look on your resume."
"You're much better at sales than you think." She wagged a finger at him. "All right, I'll take the job, but just until I'm ready to move. Before I leave, I'll help you find someone to fill the position."
He put his hand out. "Will you shake on it?"
Amber wrapped her fingers around his. Instead of shaking her hand, he pulled her until she straddled his legs. She l
aughed. "I thought you wanted to shake on our agreement?"
"Why settle for a handshake when I can have a kiss?" Mason put his hands on her cheeks and held her as he claimed her mouth in a hot, hungry kiss. When they gasped for air, he asked, "Isn't this better than shaking hands?"
When Tuesday came, Amber couldn't wait to put their marketing ideas to work. After she placed an ad for a new waitress, she drafted a press release announcing The Epicurean's five-star rating to the restaurant. She emailed the statement to television and radio stations and to the newspapers. Then she followed up on the emails with a call to answer questions and provide more information.
Finally, Amber packed to go home and soak in her favorite bath salts scented with sweet orange and honeysuckle. Mason walked into the office, and she smiled. "This was fun, but I'm exhausted."
Mason chuckled. "You wound me. I thought I was the most fun you ever had."
"You're in a class by yourself." She hugged him. "Accounting will be a stable job, but it can't compare to the thrill of marketing."
"If you say so."
Amber grinned and finished packing her briefcase.
"I'll miss you." He brushed his lips over hers. "Do you have to go home?"
"You know I do, so stop trying to lead me astray." She rubbed her cheek on his chest. "You smell yummy."
"That's the Take Home bag I put together for you. I can't let my marketing director-slash-bookkeeper starve. People might think you don't like my cooking."
"Everyone knows you're the best chef in Serenity Bay."
"Thank you, but since there are only four chefs in town…"
She laughed and went to the kitchen. Mason handed her the bag with her dinner and kissed her forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Still awake at midnight, Amber sank into the bath to soak while her clothes were spinning in the dryer. She'd stayed up too late studying and doing chores. Her tub wasn't as big as Mason's whirlpool bath, but the sweet orange and honeysuckle bath salts mixed with the hot water soothed her tired muscles. She'd be a happy woman if the confusion clouding her mind could be washed away, too.
Leaning back, she smiled when a picture of Mason floated through her mind. She woke this morning to him watching her. She'd wanted to tell him he looked adorable with his tousled hair and sweet smile but didn't think he'd appreciate such an unmanly compliment. Instead, she'd cupped his cheek and kissed him. Then they'd made sweet, slow love.
Why was she worrying about Mason? Not once had he asked her to stay or hinted at feelings that went deeper than friendship. When she'd told him of her plan to leave town, Mason had understood how important her dreams were. He'd agreed they'd just be friends.
Amber slid deeper into the water. What was she going to do? Love wasn't part of her plan. She cared for Mason but couldn't let her feelings deepen. Amber sighed. Who was she kidding? She was falling in love with him.
Never had Amber expected to find a job she loved or the man of her dreams in Serenity Bay. She should put a stop to their friendship. Her hands clenched. The thought of not seeing Mason knotted her stomach.
She wanted to use the skills and knowledge she'd learned, but someday she also wanted to marry and have children. Should she give up her plans and dreams in the hope that Mason might grow to love her?
Amber yawned and got out of the water before she fell asleep in the tub. After wiping the drops of water that clung to her body, she put on her black silk sleep shorts and camisole. She loved the way the fabric brushed over her skin. Then she climbed into bed but couldn't get comfortable. Sleeping without the heat of Mason's body next to her was difficult. She pounded on her pillow a few times before falling asleep. Amber dreamed of him.
The next few days were a pleasant routine. Amber worked in the office and shared a meal with Mason after the lunch seating. They discussed the award, the show, and the marketing opportunities. She became so excited while explaining her ideas, he often had to make her stop talking to eat.
During this time, Mason also prepared for his appearance on The Epicurean. He experimented with desserts wanting to create something unique to present as a specialty of the Inn. Amber was a willing guinea pig and taste-tested each dessert including the one that looked like a green mountain. When he perfected his recipe, he called it Heaven's Delight. It was a triple chocolate torte made with white chocolate, milk chocolate, and dark chocolate. The first time he served it in the restaurant, the guests applauded and begged for the recipe. He didn't share it but gave each diner an extra slice of the torte to take home.
Mason considered and reconsidered what to prepare for the show. He wanted to showcase Minnesota, but it couldn't take longer than ten minutes to put the ingredients together and show the finished entrée. Once again, Amber taste-tested every dish he tried. After experimenting with different recipes, he chose Cornish game hens stuffed with cranberry and almond wild rice.
Amber had recipe cards for the stuffed game hens printed. She added information for the bed-and-breakfast on the reverse side. Their marketing plan was already producing results. After placing ads in different magazines, the number of people making weekend reservations had increased.
One day while Amber worked in the office, her cell phone rang. She didn't recognize the number but knew it as a New York area code.
Twenty minutes later, hands shaking, she set the phone on the desk and stared at it. Her life had just taken a sharp right turn. She stared at the phone and checked the phone call log. Yup, the international bank had called.
When she'd sent letters to the two companies in New York, her goal had been to practice writing letters and resumes. She'd hoped for polite rejections, not an invitation to interview for a financial analyst position. Not even in her dreams had she considered the possibility of a job with the Banque Internationale.
Mason walked into the office and set a tray with their lunch on the table. When he looked at her, his smile vanished. "What's wrong?"
Amber rubbed her forehead. "I got a call."
"Bad news?"
She shook her head. "Remember those letters I sent to the firms in New York?"
Mason sounded hoarse when he said, "Yes."
"The international banking firm called. They want to interview me next week."
"Next week? I am taping the show next Tuesday. What day do they want to meet with you?"
"Wednesday." Amber grimaced. "The timing couldn't be worse."
"No, this is great. We can fly to New York on Sunday. Monday we can see the sights and practice our presentations. On Tuesday, you can go with me to the show and be my cheering section. On Wednesday, I'll visit family and friends while you're interviewing. Then on Thursday, we'll fly home."
"That would work, but you can't close the restaurant." Amber tapped a finger on her chin. "I hadn't even considered what you would do while you went to New York."
"Not a problem. I talked to a friend, Gage Phelps, who is a station chef at a restaurant in Chicago. He's coming to town and will cover for me."
"That's great."
"There's another reason he's coming."
"What's that?"
"If we increase the number of diners we serve, I'll need help. I want to see how Gage handles the restaurant. If he can manage it while I'm away, I plan to offer him a job as my sous chef."
"You're thinking of adding dinner for the bed-and-breakfast guests." Amber clapped her hands together. "That's terrific."
"Offering it is a good way to increase our bookings. I'd be a fool to pass on your idea. If the Inn's business keeps growing at this rate, we will be profitable within a year, and it will be because of your plan and the work you've done."
"Thank you. I'm glad to help. Coming up with a marketing plan, putting it into action, and watching it succeed has been more fun than I expected."
"Amber, have you given any thought of going into marketing instead of accounting?"
"I love marketing. It's fun, like being a cheerleader." She shook her head. "I need a job that is re
liable. Marketing is a cutthroat business. I could never swim with the sharks."
Mason rubbed his chin. "I know going to New York is important to you, but if you should change your mind and stay in Serenity Bay, I'd offer you a permanent position as my marketing director."
Amber's stomach knotted. He was offering her the job she'd been too afraid to even dream of getting. Director of Marketing for the bed-and-breakfast. She might be able to provide marketing services to other businesses in town too. There would be time to find out if their relationship could grow.
"I don't know what to say. It's an extraordinary opportunity, but…"
"I understand. You have to follow your dream." He pulled her twisting hands apart. "I wanted you to know you'd have a job if you changed your mind."
She whispered, "Thank you."
"I'll make reservations for New York." Mason kissed her forehead.
Amber watched him walk away. With a sigh, her head dropped to the desk.
She'd just turned down her dream job and the best man she'd ever known. She couldn't give up her dreams when she was close to having everything she wanted. Could she?
CHAPTER NINE
On Sunday, Mason and Amber flew to the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport in a small plane. When Amber saw it, she said, "That's a puddle jumper. It doesn't look very safe."
Mason chuckled and then said, "Don't let the pilot hear you. We want to arrive alive."
"We could die?" She squeezed his hand. "Maybe this isn't a good idea?"
"Amber, have you flown in a small plane?"
"Uh…no. This is my first time flying."
From the moment they board until they deplaned, Amber had a stranglehold on Mason's hand. In the Twin Cities' airport, they had time before they left for New York. They went into a pub-style restaurant and had a light lunch.
Amber wasn't as nervous on the larger plane. Mason worked to keep her mind off the flight by entertaining her with stories from his childhood.
