Chapter 9
Ian had dined at a lot of great restaurants, but Harry’s Folly was one of his favorites.
Of course, the food was superb, the atmosphere intimate, the drink selection top-notch.
But it was the owner who made the restaurant stand out because nobody was like Harry Blacksworth; jovial, sincere, fun-loving.
As Ian waited for him to circle back for his order, he unfolded the paper he’d brought with him and studied the spreadsheet.
Katie’s Soups should be cranking out serious quantities of product right now, and yet it wasn’t.
The shifts were off, the delivery time was late, and the company was not meeting demand. Why? What was going on?
He jotted a few notes on the side of the spreadsheet, pulled out his phone, and made a few quick calculations.
Throwing money at expansion wasn’t necessarily the answer, not until he conducted an efficiency study.
Did he want to be the person doing it? No, absolutely not, especially when Katie had no idea he was the silent investor.
But he was very good at scale, efficiency, and helping companies go from red to black.
Whatever was going on with the company had to be corrected—fast. If fulfillment issues continued, Katie would slowly lose business, and the company would suffer. He could not let that happen, and that’s what made him go back on his vow to stay away from Magdalena and let Katie live her life.
Despite what he’d told Christine, maybe he could get in and out of town without Katie discovering he was the silent investor in Katie’s Soups.
But there was a tiny part of him that wondered if maybe after all this time, she might forgive him, especially when he told her he’d been forced to leave.
It’s not like his father could do anything to her now because she owned the cabin.
As for Ian, his father wasn’t interested in having him join the company.
Tattooed longhairs were not part of the culture, even if their name was Finnegan and they knew how to make money.
Ian let out a sigh and pushed thoughts of his father aside.
He had to find a way into the facility so he could observe and assess areas that required improvement.
Once he had his recommendations in place, he’d gently suggest them to Katie.
If she bought into the changes, then the need for an on-site engineer visit would go away, and she’d never have to find out he was the engineer.
But even as he told himself this plan was no more complicated than building a performance engine for Max’s company, G-Racing Technologies, he knew that wasn’t true.
Convincing Katie Layton to let him into her building?
That was going to be a real challenge. He rubbed his temples, considered his predicament.
When had anything involving this woman ever been easy?
Ian folded the spreadsheet, stuffed it in his jacket pocket, and wished he were working on an engine instead of navigating a relationship landmine that might blow at any moment.
“Hey, Ian.” Harry Blacksworth placed a beer on the table, picked a piece of lint from the arm of his dark suit. “Damn white napkins.” He checked the other arm, brushed a hand over it three times. “If it were up to me, I’d switch the napkins and tablecloths to black.”
“Greta said no, didn’t she?” Ian took a pull on his beer, waited for Harry’s response.
An eye roll and a shake of his silver head.
“Seems black doesn’t go with the feel of the place.
Can you believe it?” Another head shake and a frown.
“My own wife is questioning my taste? We had a few words about that.” His voice shifted, turned as soft as the whipped butter this place served.
“She had a point, but Greta’s a crafty one. That’s why she offered a ‘compromise’.”
“A compromise, huh?” Apparently, compromise was a big deal in a relationship. There’d been a time when…
The hearty laugh burst through his thoughts. “She bought me a box of lint rollers—” his blue eyes twinkled, “—and offered to use the roller on my suits before I leave the house. I keep a few here, just in case.” One more quick inspection of his suit. “Looks like I need one.”
“Sounds like a solid plan and a decent compromise.” Harry sure loved his wife, and if she were willing to lint roll his suits for him? Yeah, that was probably pure love because he didn’t know anyone who’d agree to that.
“Anyway, I’ve been meaning to ask you something for a while.
” Harry lowered his voice, leaned toward him.
“What happened to the clean shave and the polo shirts? Ten years ago, that was you. Now?” Curiosity blended with what sounded an awful lot like suspicion.
“You act like that T-shirt’s the only one you own, and the jeans and boots?
Probably picked up from the thrift store.
And why the hell would you land here working in a bar?
” The raised brow and narrowed gaze said he expected an answer.
“None of it makes sense unless you blew through your inheritance, and my gut says that’s not it.
So, what’s the truth, and what are you hiding? ”
Ian lifted his beer bottle, took a long swallow.
There’d been a time when he preferred scotch, but that’s when he was trying to be somebody else…
trying to prove something. He liked beer, and he was done pretending he didn’t.
But that didn’t mean he was hiding from anyone—especially himself.
Apparently, Harry didn’t agree. “No idea what you’re talking about. ”
The laugh said he could try again, but the words that followed told Ian the man might smile and welcome strangers, but he was no fool.
“I’ve been watching you since you landed in this town.
Not the first time around, because you were just a kid who liked to eat my food.
” Pause and a quiet “But you’re not a kid anymore. ”
Ian worked up a smile, saluted Harry with his beer bottle. “Maybe I’m still trying to figure everything out. Ever consider that?” That was a half-true statement that pulled another laugh from Harry Blacksworth.
“Sure, tell that to somebody who hasn’t been around the block fifty-three times.
I’ve lived your life. I’ve pretended, played games, and refused to take a good look at where I was and where I was heading.
I couldn’t get out of my own pathetic way.
” He placed both hands on the table. “Not until I met Greta.”
Everybody knew about Harry’s transformation from bachelor to devoted husband and father, and they knew the woman behind it. “Your wife’s a special woman. You’re a lucky man.” He used to think partnerships only referred to business arrangements…but then he learned the truth…
“Damn straight I am and don’t think I don’t know that.
So, I’m wondering about you and how you landed in our town, working at a bar.
Why would you do that? And—” he pointed to the tattoos on Ian’s arm, the ponytail and full beard, “—what’s all this?
If it’s really you, great. I support being yourself, but if it’s not, and it’s just another way to hide, then cut the hair and stop with the tattoos.
” He jabbed a finger at his chest, his expression full of emotion.
“Because behind it all, we’re all we’ve got. We’re still just us.”
Why was Harry talking to him as though he thought Ian had a truckload of secrets?
He only had one secret, and she was the reason he’d returned to this town.
She was behind all of it, and if he didn’t square things with her, no matter the fallout, he’d never be able to move on.
Ian knew that, had known it for a long time, even if he hated to admit it.
And Harry? The guy had figured out a woman was involved in Ian’s “situation” even if he didn’t know her name.
“Anyway, enough about that. I’m just a hopeless fool who believes the right woman can make a messed-up guy a better person.” He slid Ian a look, nodded at the menu. “Are you having the shrimp puttanesca tonight with a side of calamari, extra sauce?”
“Of course. Can you add garlic bread to that…and will you ask Jeremy to add a little extra spice to the puttanesca?”
A wink, and a hearty, “You got it. Hope that stomach’s up for it tonight.
” He turned to leave, stopped. “Did you hear Katie Layton’s back in town?
” A shrug, a curious, “You two knew each other back in the day. That summer you spent here? I seem to remember Dolly saying something about it, though she never did tell Jack. Huh.” He rubbed his jaw, slid him a look that said “not so fast” and “no way are you fooling me”.
“I’ll tell Jeremy to put an extra kick in that puttanesca. See you in a few.”
Harry Blacksworth was as smooth as they came. The man could smile and compliment all while he was assessing, calculating, and deducing. What did he know about that summer? Ian took another long pull of beer, thought about Harry’s words. Katie Layton’s back in town.
Finally.
Ava Ventori was one of Katie’s Soups’ biggest fans. She sampled, offered suggestions, and convinced customers to buy not one but two or three jars of soup. There’s nothing like this, except maybe your mother’s minestrone. Or this mushroom barley soup is unforgettable.
Katie and Ava had been friends for years, and Katie even babysat Ava and Law’s baby on occasion.
Of course, the child was beautiful, happy, a true pleasure.
A twinge of something close to longing settled in her gut, made her wonder if she’d ever find a partner who cared about her, brought her flowers and sweet treats just because…