Chapter 2

When Jayson’s number flashed up on the screen of her cell phone, Athena almost smiled. Not even twenty-four hours in Tennessee. He hadn’t wasted time getting to the groveling, and she appreciated that. Not that it would be anywhere near enough to make her accept whatever bullshit explanation he intended to offer for his cheating, but abject supplication would go a long way toward mollifying her temper in the absence of actual bloodshed. Which she owed Moses a thank you for preventing.

“What do you want?”

“Don’t hang up. Please. We have things to discuss.”

She gritted her teeth at the sound of his voice, her empty fingers clenching for the knife that wasn’t there. “I don’t think I’m much in the mood for discussion.”

“I’m sorry for how things went down.”

“You’re sorry you got caught, you mean.”

He heaved a sigh, and she could just imagine him pinching the bridge of that blade-straight nose. “Athena, I’m trying to apologize.”

“There is no ‘I’m sorry’ big enough to make up for what you did. If you think you’re going to weasel your way back into my bed, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“I’m not calling for that.”

She opened her mouth. Closed it again. She didn’t want him back. She hadn’t been in love with Jayson so much as the idea of him. Of a man who shared her passion for food, her vision for the future. It wasn’t heartbreak she was wrestling with but sheer, unmitigated fury at her own stupidity for trusting him in the first place. Still, him not begging her to take him back was a blow to her pride.

“Then why are you calling?”

“About Olympus.”

Ah, here was what she really wanted. Him imploring her to come back to take her rightful place in the kitchen. That was what really mattered in all of this.

“I want to buy out your share in the restaurant.”

Her brain staggered and stopped. She hadn’t heard that right. For a full ten seconds she sat on her bed, mouth agape as she tried to figure out what he’d really said.

“Athena, are you there?”

“You…what?”

“I think we can both agree after how things ended that working together will be impossible. You made the right decision in leaving, so I want to buy out your share. You’ll be free and clear to do your own thing.”

Which really meant, I’ll be free to put the chef of my choosing in your place. She was under no delusion that it would be anyone other than her backstabbing bitch of a sous chef.

The tide of fresh betrayal rolled over her like a tsunami, knocking her off whatever even keel she’d managed to cobble together since she’d left Chicago.

Had they planned this? Had the two of them played her? Known her well enough to predict that she’d fly off the handle and quit her own restaurant in retaliation for the affair? The very idea of it had her blood boiling.

“Do you have any idea how insulting that is?” She snarled the words, wishing for something sharper that would do more damage. “Olympus is mine, Jayson. My vision. My dream. My fucking Michelin star. It isn’t Olympus without me.”

“You are, unquestionably, the creative mind behind the menu and the concepts. But the recipes belong to the restaurant, and you don’t own the controlling share. I do.”

Of course he’d throw that back in her face. The truth of it scalded her. She shoved up from the bed to pace. “You bastard.”

“I’m trying to do the right thing here, Athena. I’ll make you a generous offer for your portion.” He named a figure that had her brows climbing to her hairline. “I know you need the money.”

And that was just another betrayal. She’d cared for him, confided in him. He knew the reason she hadn’t been able to buy up more shares in the restaurant than she had. And damn him for using that against her.

Damn him for being right.

But if she did this, if she handed her baby over to him, to them, she wouldn’t just be severing professional ties. She’d be lacing that bridge with C-4 and blowing it to kingdom come.

She tried to imagine going back to Chicago, back to Olympus. Tried to imagine some sudden windfall that would allow her to turn the tables and buy that controlling share from him. And she knew almost at once that she couldn’t do it. He’d poisoned the whole place for her. She’d never again be able to cook in that kitchen without imagining them there. Without remembering the pain and the fury and wanting to stab him all over again.

She let out a slow, controlled breath. “Fine. I’ll sell you my share.” Thinking about Maggie’s blood-thirsty negotiation tactics, she shot a figure back at him that was a good thirty percent higher than what he’d already quoted her. He’d probably say no, but she might as well try to get in one last lick on him.

“Done. I’ll have the paperwork drawn up and sent to you as soon as possible.”

Staggered by his ready agreement, she could only stare at the wall.

Jayson’s tone went soft. “You’re a brilliant chef, Athena. I wish you all the best.”

Before she could snarl back an appropriately scathing reply, he’d hung up.

She dropped the phone onto her bed before she could hurl it at the wall. It was over. The dream she’d fought for tooth and nail, sweated blood and tears to make a reality, was gone. On some level she’d known that when she walked out, and it hadn’t stopped her. The hurt, the anger, was too huge to stop her from throwing it away because escape had been more important. Now she had no job, no source of income to take care of the responsibilities that hung around her neck like a noose.

What had she done?

Panic and grief welled up, tightening her throat, making her eyes burn.

No. Fuck this. She hadn’t cried at her mother’s funeral. She wasn’t going to cry about this. Tears were senseless. A waste of hydration and energy. But she needed to do something to let all of this out.

In less than a minute, she was searching through kitchen cabinets and drawers, taking stock of the contents of the refrigerator and freezer. She needed comfort food. Not merely the soothing deliciousness of carbs and fat but the act of creating it. She needed to prove that something in her world still made sense.

Ari came in, Kennedy behind her, as she piled ingredients on the big island.

The girl dumped her backpack in one corner. “Ooo, you’re cooking! What’s on the menu?”

“Shepherd’s pie.” Because it had been Mom’s favorite and being back in this house where she’d spent her teenage years made her ache to curl up at Joan’s feet and ball yarn as she spilled out the whole sorry mess and waited for her adoptive mother’s unique brand of wisdom to make her feel better. But she’d never get the chance for that again.

“I love shepherd’s pie. Can I help?”

Before she could come up with a response that wasn’t a growl, Kennedy swung an arm around Ari’s shoulders. “Athena’s pretty territorial about her kitchen space. She doesn’t like anybody underfoot.”

“I can follow directions,” Ari insisted.

Athena wanted to say no. She wanted to be alone. Wanted the chance to actually cook, preparing a meal herself from beginning to end, with no waiting patrons, no stakeholders, no prospective critics, no snooty-ass foodie wannabes putting in their two cents. There’d been no opportunity for that in months. But looking at the open enthusiasm and gangly limbs of her niece as she folded herself onto a stool at the counter, Athena couldn’t bring herself to snap at the girl. This upset wasn’t about her and she didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of Athena’s shitty coping skills.

“You know how to brown ground beef?”

Ari grinned and brought her hand to her brow in a sharp salute. “Aye, Captain!”

Despite the simmering rage, Athena’s lip twitched. “The correct response is ‘Yes, Chef.’”

As Ari slid off her stool and came around to pull out a skillet, Kennedy lifted her brows in surprise. Of everyone in the family, she was the only one Athena had ever trusted in the kitchen.

After a moment’s hesitation, she jerked her shoulders. “You wanna prep the mushrooms?”

Kennedy’s smile spread slow. “Yes, Chef.”

This, too, was a Thing. She hadn’t cooked with Kennedy in years. She’d barely spoken to her sister to spew anything other than accusations about how Kennedy had selfishly left all of them behind when she turned eighteen and stayed away a full decade. When Kennedy had returned to Eden’s Ridge for Mom’s funeral, it had been…bad. Still reeling from the loss, Athena had needed a punching bag, and Kennedy had been a prime target. But the situation hadn’t been what they’d all believed. Her reasons for leaving hadn’t been selfish. And over the past year, Athena found she’d finally let go of the resentment she’d been toting around.

As Kennedy moved smoothly around her, she felt some of the tension in her shoulders ease. This felt familiar. Good.

At the opposite side of the island, her sister began cleaning the baby Bella mushrooms. “This feels like old times.”

Athena glanced up, her knife not slowing as she efficiently cubed the potatoes she’d scrubbed. “Nah. There’d have to be Verdi playing at ear-splitting volume and Lorenzo constantly trying to pinch our asses.”

“I do not miss that man.”

“Who was Lorenzo?” Ari asked.

“Lorenzo Ossani is one of the most lecherous, temperamental chefs to ever walk the streets of Florence, Italy. He’s also a freaking god of food. Kennedy and I spent a memorable summer sweating it out in his kitchen, learning everything he’d teach us. The stuff I learned from him was the reason I got into Le Cordon Bleu.”

“That was the last time we cooked together,” Kennedy murmured.

A band squeezed around Athena’s chest as she thought of the years they’d lost. No going back to change things. They only had the now. She swallowed against a knot in her throat. “I’ve missed this.”

“Me, too.”

The click of a camera had them both turning to look at Ari, who shrugged, unrepentant. “I had to capture that Hallmark Moment.” She shoved her phone back into her pocket. “Now tell me more about your adventures in Italy.”

Athena scraped potatoes into the pot of boiling water on the stove and checked the progress of the meat. “Mind what you’re doing. Break those big clumps up into something smaller with the back of your wooden spoon, and see that you get the surface brown but not burned. That’s the Maillard reaction and where all the flavor is.”

“Yes, Chef.”

Returning to her cutting board, Athena started on an onion. “So there was this guy we called Meatball…”

* * *

“You missedan awesome dinner the other night. Athena made these veal and shiitake meatballs and Mom had to stop me from going back for a third helping.”

As Ari circled the paddock on the new gelding, whom she’d dubbed Ridley, Logan marveled at the girl’s ability to continue chattering while she rode. “Heels down,” he reminded. “Don’t let those reins droop.”

She made the corrections and kept talking, going on and on about the food until his stomach growled.

“It’s been so great having Athena in town for longer than a couple of days at a stretch.”

Logan hadn’t seen Athena since the day she’d arrived a week ago. Spring planting had been a convenient excuse to stick close to home. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her. It was that he couldn’t see her and not want to get involved. She was off-limits. He didn’t poach in another guy’s territory. And that aside, whatever issue she was dealing with would tug at him, at his insatiable curiosity, until he got emotionally involved wanting to help. Because you could take the therapist out of the master’s program, but you couldn’t take the training and instincts away. He’d learned his lesson on that front years before. So he’d stayed away for both their sakes.

Still, he couldn’t quite resist pumping Ari for a little more information. “Step it up to a posting trot. You’ve been spending a lot of time with her on this trip?”

She bounced a little before settling into a smooth rise and fall with the gelding’s gait. “She’s been teaching me to cook!”

“Really? I thought she defended the sanctity of her kitchen with all those sharp knives.”

“That’s what Kennedy said, too. But she’s turning me into a proper sous chef. Yesterday, I made béchamel sauce. She says it’s one of the five primary sauces in French cooking.”

“Yeah? What did you do with it?”

“Made a killer mac and cheese. Like, seriously, to die for. You should’ve been there for that, too.”

Amused, he propped a foot on the bottom rail of the paddock fence. “What’s with all the dinner invites all of the sudden?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’m feeling sorry for you in your bachelor state, with all the boxed mac and cheese and beanie weenies.”

“I’ll have you know, I have not eaten beanie weenies since I got out of college. Change directions.” Not that his bank account was a whole lot healthier now. Everything he had was sunk into this farm. He’d finally obtained his certification as organic. Now he began the never-ending battle to keep it and sell enough of his crops to cover the outlay to get there, which hadn’t been chump change. Oh, and pray that his equipment held out for at least one more season. Some of it was presently being held together with baling wire, duct tape, and prayers. So maybe the kid had the right idea to mooch meals when he could manage it.

Ari shot him a pitying glance as she smoothly executed the transition. “Please. I’ve seen the state of your kitchen. Hungry Man meals do not constitute actual food.”

They did when you’d put in a fourteen-hour day and didn’t have the energy to do more than push a few buttons before falling face first into bed to do it all over again tomorrow. “Is that you or Athena talking?”

“Does it matter? It’s the truth either way. Besides, we have an award-winning chef at the house right now. Why wouldn’t you want to enjoy that as much as humanly possible?”

He had a sudden flash of long, tanned limbs wrapped around his shoulders and hips. Shaking his head to dislodge the image, he cleared his throat. “Because I’ve been busy with planting, as we’ve already discussed.”

“All the more reason to join us for dinner, so you don’t have to cook.”

He didn’t point out that joining them for dinner would involve quitting his work day early in order to shower and make himself presentable, not to mention drive time both ways and the lengthy socializing involved with a Reynolds family gathering. Not that he didn’t enjoy her family, but he legitimately didn’t have that kind of time.

“Besides, you’re all into the organic farming thing. Athena’s into high-quality ingredients. You’ve got food in common.”

“Pretty sure everybody with taste buds and a stomach has food in common. Step it up to a canter.”

Instead of nudging Ridley’s flank, she continued the conversation. “You know what I mean. Y’all can talk about ingredients at a higher level than the rest of us.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you trying to play matchmaker?”

Her grin was a challenge. “So what if I am?”

“Her boyfriend would probably have a problem with it.”

“He’s not here. And anyway, I don’t know if they’re still together. She hasn’t mentioned him. I mean, wouldn’t you mention the love of your life to your family?”

“He may not be the love of her life.” Please don’t be the love of her life. “That doesn’t mean he’s not still in the picture.”

Ari waved that off. “He shouldn’t be in the picture. We’ve never even met him. Besides, you like her. And whether he’s still around or not, the two of you have chemistry.”

“And how would you know that?” Surely Pru hadn’t said anything…

“Please. I have eyes. Besides, I’ve been surrounded by couples making googly eyes, with little cartoon birdies flying around their heads, for a year. The inn might as well be called The Love Shack.”

Logan snickered, imagining Xander’s pained expression if he heard this exchange. “I feel confident in saying that Athena has never made googly eyes in her life.”

“You’re not denying the chemistry,” Ari pointed out.

“Ari—”

“I’m just saying maybe, if we give her enough reasons, she’ll decide to stay.”

As an adopted kid, Ari was thirsty for family. She was happiest when all of hers was in Eden’s Ridge. It was sweet, and he appreciated that she saw him as a check in the “Reasons Athena Should Stay” column. But he needed to nip this idea in the bud. Not only to protect her but to squash that tiny flare of hope that had lit in his own chest.

“I hate to burst your bubble, kid, but Athena’s life isn’t here. Once the renovations are done, she’ll be headed on back to Chicago, to Olympus. That world, that life, isn’t compatible with ours.” It was as much a reminder to himself as to Ari.

“Athena’s not happy in that world,” she insisted.

“How do you know that?”

“People talk about the things that make them happy. She’s hardly said two words about Olympus since she got here. And if you ask, she finds a way to change the subject.”

He hummed a noncommittal note, but he thought back to her evasion about how long she was staying. Was something more serious going on back in Chicago? Had something besides fatigue carved those lines around her eyes?

Not your business.

“Anyway, she’s not happy, so maybe she should walk away.”

“That’s easier said than done. She’s one of the best in her field, and she deserves the chance to shine.”

“Of course she does, but the sun does not rise and set in Chicago. She could shine closer to home.”

“That’s for Athena to decide. Now step it up to that canter.”

This time Ari did as he asked. But as she slipped smoothly into rhythm with her mount, Logan couldn’t help but wish that the teenager was right.

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