by Easton, Meg
But that was true for all thirty-six people who had presented to them, so spending time daydreaming about it wasn’t wise. Spending time working toward building her business was. “I’m sure I won’t hear back for a few weeks, though, so let’s get down to business.” She glanced down at her buzzing phone, her brow crinkled. She had spent all day yesterday in the green room at Van Zandt with Ian, as they had each waited for their turn to present. They didn’t talk nearly often enough to warrant a phone call again so soon. She slid to answer the call, pressed the speaker phone, and said, “Hello, Ian! Miss me already?”
“Have you thought any more about the partnership I proposed? Our businesses would combine beautifully. We’d work together pretty well, too.”
“You know I love you, Ian. But my answer is still no—I’m a lone wolf; always will be.”
“I appreciate your ‘no.’ I respect your ‘no’ just like I respect you. But I think it’s the wrong answer.”
Brooke smiled at his persistence. On anyone else, it might be annoying. But Ian was just so darn likeable that it was hard to get annoyed at anything he did. “I know you do. Thank you again for the offer.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll convince you yet.”
“I don’t doubt that you’ll try.”
As soon as Brooke hung up the phone, Noemi said, “You never told us that you got a business offer. Do you want to discuss it?”
“I didn’t tell you because it was irrelevant. I’m not interested in a partnership.”
“Why?” Noemi asked. “Because you’re worried the two of you might get romantically involved?”
“Me and Ian?” Brooke laughed. “No. He’s...he’s not my type and very much taken.”
“Then why?” Delbrina asked. “You’d grow your business and extend your reach. Ian seems like a nice guy. And he designs suits, which is an area where we’re weak. With a partnership, many of the costs and efforts would be split in half. And you could utilize each other’s manufacturers when one has downtime.”
Brooke shook her head. “My dad always taught me to never merge with a company that’s the same size as yours. And he’s one of the best there is at growing businesses.”
Delbrina and Noemi nodded. They both knew who her dad was—most people did, even if they didn’t know she was his daughter—and with his success, people rightly assumed that her dad knew his stuff. He’d always taught her that it never worked out if you joined as equals. Someone had to take the lead, to make the hard decisions when two partners wouldn’t agree. And unless you were the bigger business, your own business’ name—the one you created from the ground up—was likely to disappear.
Her phone buzzed again and she shook her head when she saw who it was. She touched Accept and put the phone to her ear. “When you said you’d keep trying to convince me, I didn’t think you meant every five minutes.”
“They’ve chosen.” Ian’s voice came out with barely restrained excitement.
“Who has?”
“Van Zandt!”
Brooke stood up from her stool. “So soon? I thought it would be weeks!”
“They said there were five standouts. It made their choice easy. Are you checking your email? Check your email already!”
Brooke raced to the standing table with the computer, turned the phone on speaker, and set it beside the computer. She put the password into the login screen, then logged into her email. The email from Van Zandt Corporate was right at the top, the words Five Finalists Chosen in the subject line jumping out at her. Her hand hovered over the mouse, suddenly unsure if she wanted to click. She had thought she’d been okay with whatever answer she got from them, but now that the list was here, she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear if she didn’t make the cut.
“Click it!” Delbrina and Noemi shouted at the same time.
So she clicked the button and scanned through the email, none of the words sinking in until she saw Brooke McClellan with By the Brooke in the list of five. She gasped and tried to focus on the lines above it, just to confirm that this was, indeed, the list of finalists and not the list of people they were taking out of the running. She could barely focus, though. The screaming and jumping of Delbrina and Noemi confirmed that she was a finalist. And right below her name was Ian Bancroft with Bancroft Limited.
“I made the top five!” she shouted. “Ian, we both made the top five!” She spun around and wrapped her arms around Noemi and Delbrina, and they all jumped up and down in a difficult-to-maintain hug, screaming, Ian squealing his excitement through the phone.
Breathless, Brooke collapsed into the nearest chair. “I can’t believe they chose my brand. This is so huge. I’ve spent countless hours of my life dreaming of this, but I still can’t wrap my head around it.”
“I’ll contact our manufacturer,” Noemi said, “and have Dave give us some numbers on what kind of output he could get in the space we have if we let him hire as many employees as he wants. And I’ll check with outsourcing some sewing, too, if ours isn’t enough.”
Brooke nodded.
“And I’ll let our designer know that this next look book needs to knock it out of the park,” Delbrina added.
Item after item kept flying onto Brooke’s mental to-do list as the adrenaline from the news flowed through her. She stood up and went to the computer to read the rest of the email.
“I know you didn’t go and forget that I am on the phone,” Ian said.
“Ian,” Brooke said, “after news like this, I didn’t even remember where I was.”
He laughed. “That’s why it took me a good five minutes after I saw the email before I called you. Did you see the attached file? That’s a list of the things they want us to prepare for before the next meeting, when they’ll cut the list down further. It’s, uh...it’s long. And they’re giving us three weeks.”
“Three weeks?!”
“It’s insane,” Ian said. “And I have my fashion show right in the middle of that three weeks. You’ll still come help, right?”
“You know me well enough to know I wouldn’t bail on you.”
“You’re the best kind of people there is. Check out their list. You make sure to let me know if you want to work together on any of it.”
With that tone of voice, his implication came through loud and clear. “Ha, ha, Ian. My answer is still no.”
“It was worth a try. You know where to find me if it changes to a yes.”
After she hung up, Noemi and Delbrina squealed. “You did it!” Noemi shouted. “You made the top five!”
Brooke buzzed with energy and practically floated with excitement. “I’ve been dreaming about this since I was four and made my Barbie a dress out of paper towels and Scotch tape.”
The bell on the front door dinged and Brooke stepped to where she could see through the doorway to the shop. “Whitney! It’s so good to see you!” Brooke said as she rushed forward to greet her friend. “Come on back here.” Brooke led her to the padded chairs that were set in a little conversation cluster on the rug in one of the corners and they both sat down as Brooke tried to calm her breathing. “How was Sacramento?”
“It was great!” Whitney said. “I love watching Eli run team-building groups.”
“And I bet you’re enjoying all the extra time with him, too.”
Whitney blushed. “Yeah, that too. How was New York?”
“It was good. I went to a fun party, made some connections, and even met a couple of people who are corporate sales reps.”
“That's fantastic! Do you think anything will come of it?”
Brooke shrugged. “Hard to say. I mean I hope so, but this is a pretty competitive business.”
“So,” Whitney said, drawing the word out, “did you go on any fun dates while you were there?”
“Oh yeah,” Noemi said, “I can’t believe we forgot to ask if you went on a date with Travis.”
Delbrina shook her head. “Travis is the guy in Austin. Saloy is the one in New York.”
B
rooke chuckled. “Saloy is in Los Angeles.” She turned back to Whitney. “Sadly, no. I often go on a date with Rennen when I’m in New York, but he met someone new and decided he wanted to be exclusive with them.”
“So what I’m hearing is that you could really use a date.”
Brooke could see the mischievous in her friend’s expression. “Whitney, no.”
Whitney held up her hands. “Don’t worry, I didn't set you up on a blind date or anything like that. I know how annoying that can be. I was just thinking it might be fun to have you and a date double with me and Eli for an early dinner tonight. You know, someone from town maybe.”
“I am more than happy to join the two of you for dinner tonight. Without a date. I’ve been the third wheel with you and Eli plenty of times before and I don’t mind it at all.”
“I’m not saying you should marry someone from town or anything. I'm just saying it might be fun to go out as couples.”
“I don't date people from town. I’ve seen how it is. If you go out on one date, people in town already start rooting for you before you’ve even decided if you want a second date. And then if you did decide to keep dating them, when you eventually stop dating, you’d still see them all the time and then things get awkward.”
“It’s supposed to be ‘if’ you stop dating,” Whitney said. “Not ‘when.’”
“Oh, honey,” Delbrina said, “you might as well give up. Brooke doesn’t date anyone exclusively, let alone long-term.”
Whitney raised a questioning eyebrow. She hadn’t ever pressed Brooke for more information, even though Brooke had pushed Whitney quite a bit when she first started dating Eli. She probably owed her an explanation. She blew out a deep breath. “Being married holds you back. People have different opinions on everything—it’s normal and natural. So anytime you have to make a decision, it slows things down and complicates everything. It limits you. It pins you down. There’s not as much freedom to make the tough choices. It’s true in business and it’s true in life.”
“My man can pin me down anytime he likes,” Delbrina said, and high-fived Noemi.
“Have you never been in an exclusive relationship?” Whitney asked, disbelief all across her face.
Brooke shook her head. “Nope. I need to be free to make all decisions. It’s one of the few things my parents ever agreed on, and something that both their short-lived marriage and their long, successful careers have backed up.”
To Whitney’s credit, she didn’t try to convince Brooke otherwise. That’s one of the things Brooke loved best about her friend—she didn’t just assume that since she’d found love that she should make it her mission to convince everyone else that they should, too. Whitney had spent enough time spurning dates herself that she seemed to understand that pushing someone wouldn’t work. “I totally get it. So are we on for the three of us tonight at Back Porch Grill?”
“I wouldn't miss it for the world.”
Chapter Three
Cole put the last of the pork chops in a pan to brown, the tomato-lemonade sauce they would bake in already prepared in a bowl beside him, the sound of his sous chef Hani chopping vegetables behind him. In a town with only three restaurants, he got plenty of chances to make a variety of menu items. He had staples on his menu that would always be there, of course, but he made sure that there was one new item every night. It kept people from getting tired of eating the same things, and he got to stretch his skills and creativity on a daily basis.
“This is a pretty big batch of tortellini soup you’ve got me making, Chef,” Hani said. “Are you taking some to the shelter in Mountain Springs or to people in town?”
“People in town. There’s several who are recovering from sicknesses or surgeries. They could all use a helping hand.”
“So, Boss,” Hani said, and Cole turned to glance at the twenty-two-year-old when he heard the tentative excitement in the kid’s voice. “Any chance you can let me off on Saturday night? I know I’m scheduled, but some tickets to Scattered Serenity just fell into my lap and it’s Tehya’s favorite band. I really think she might be the one, Boss.”
“You thought Bree was the one.” Cole cut three red peppers in half, and then started slicing the chilies for the Romesco sauce.
“Nah. I was wrong about that. But Tehya. Man, I think she could be the one for real.”
Cole grunted. He had no problem at all with employees requesting time off—when they did it before he made the schedule. He wiped off his hands then grabbed his phone and brought up the calendar, scrutinizing everything he had listed for both the restaurant and with his daughter before setting it back on its shelf. “I’ll tell you what. Work the lunch shift on Saturday, and you can take the night off.”
Hani’s grin was so wide it was probably blinding people three blocks away. Cole cut the ends off a few cloves of garlic and after a pause, Hani said, “Do you think you’ll ever find ‘the one,’ Boss?”
Cole eyed Hani. This was not a subject he liked to discuss. He pulled out a sheet pan and placed the red peppers, chilies, and garlic on it, and drizzled olive oil on them. “I already did.”
“Right,” Hani said. “But I meant after Amanda.”
Cole had loved Amanda more than anything. Her dying wish had been for him to find someone else, but that had become rather complicated. “I don’t know, Hani. Guess you’ll have to stick around to find out.”
Cole put the pan in the broiler and then looked out the pass-through when the bell on the front door dinged. He smiled when he saw Samantha. Then he wiped his hands on a towel, grabbed her after-school snack, and headed to the bar straight out from the pass-through where his daughter always sat to do homework.
“Daddy!” she said as she dropped her backpack on a bar stool and ran to give him a hug.
“How’s my Samster? And how was good ole Nestled Hollow Elementary on this fine day?”
“Good and good,” Samantha said as she climbed onto the stool. Cole put the bowl of fruit down in front of her and sat on the stool next to her. She grabbed the fork and stabbed a piece of honeydew. “Remember how Mrs. Alvarez said that she wanted us to be the best fourth graders at cursive that Nestled Hollow has ever seen?”
Cole nodded.
“Well, today, she said that we were! And she stuck my cursive assignment to the white board as the ‘shining example.’”
“That’s my girl,” he said and met her high five.
She stuck the chunk of melon in her mouth and mumbled around it, “How’s work?”
“Five people ordered the Sam’s Special at lunch today. Who knew that grilled peanut butter, jelly, and banana would be such a hit?”
Sam swallowed and held up a finger. “‘Banana Peanut Butter Jelly Rub Your Belly.’ And I did. Oh, and I already have an idea for tomorrow’s Sam’s Special. ‘Lip Smack ‘n’ Cheese.’ It’s your regular mac and cheese, but with bacon.” She made a show of licking her lips and rubbing her stomach. “And you should use that pasta that looks like smiley faces.” She stuck a grape in her mouth. “And then bring some home for dinner.”
“How did I get so lucky to have such a brilliantly creative daughter?”
She shrugged. “Because God loves you.” Then she took a bite of cantaloupe.
“Your birthday is coming up in just over a month. Have you thought about what you want to do at your party? It’s a pretty big deal to turn ten.”
Cole was surprised at how quickly the smile dropped from Sam’s face and her shoulders fell. She pushed the fruit around in her bowl with her fork. “Actually, I was thinking about not having a party this year.”
“Why?” Cole asked. “You love birthday parties.” He paused a moment, then asked, “Has someone in school been mean?”
Sam shook her head.
“Then what?”
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Maybe I’m too old for parties.”
“Boss,” Hani called out from the kitchen, “you’ve got smoke coming out of your oven.”
He closed his eyes. He’d completely forgotten that he’d put that tray in to broil. “Just take the pan out of the oven,” he called out. “You’re not too old for parties. What’s the real reason?”
Sam just shook her head and looked down, clearly not wanting to tell him why. He couldn’t even begin to guess and had no idea what questions to ask to get her to open up.
“Boss?” Hani said, sounding worried. “They’re a little black.”
Cole squinted at Samantha, trying desperately to see through what she was showing on the surface to what lay behind it, but came up with nothing. “I’ve got to go toss those before they stink up the place, but let’s talk more about this later, okay?”
Sam nodded.
Cole took the tray outside and dumped its contents into the dumpster. As he cut new peppers and chilies and garlic, he watched Sam through the pass-through. She had pushed her snack aside and gotten out her book, a homework sheet, and a pencil, but she wasn’t getting much done. She was mostly doodling in the margins of her homework, resting her head on her hand, and generally looking less than enthused. Cole wished he knew how to help her. It was rough being her only parent—there was so much he didn’t understand and so many areas he felt inadequate in. He had never thought he’d be a single dad trying to raise a daughter on his own, but here he was.
After he added a couple slices of olive oil-brushed artisan bread on the pan under the broiler and moved the last of the pork chops from the frying pan to the baking pan, he studied Sam and tried to think of ways he could start a conversation with her about her birthday.
The bell on the door sounded and Brooke walked in. A feeling of peace washed over him, and he knew things would be okay even before he saw the smile spread across Sam’s face at seeing Brooke. Brooke had first walked in to Back Porch Grill just a couple of months after Amanda died, and she’d been a godsend ever since. She’d been a good friend to both him and Sam when they had needed it most. Even though he worried about Sam getting too attached to Brooke, it was times like these that he was so grateful for Brooke’s help.
