Chapter 6
6
MASON
Sometimes you made a decision that was guaranteed to bite you in the ass. This was going to be one of those times. It didn’t matter how much training I’d gone through for the department and as a Ranger, learning to avoid making split-second calls that I might later regret. Every once in a while, we all just ended up doing stupid shit.
Hiring Pia fell firmly into that category.
First of all, if I sold the inn, she’d likely be out of a job anyway. The most likely candidate for a buyer would be Paul Baker. He collected real estate in Cedar Falls like other people collected baseball cards or pennies. For years he’d told my father that Heritage Hill was the top on his list of properties he’d love to own. And for years my father had told Paul that it was not for sale. Knowing he’d pay top dollar, I’d almost contacted him earlier today but held off. If he did purchase it, Paul had more kids and grandkids to run the place than anyone I knew. Better to let Pia head back to Oregon before establishing a life here and having the rug pulled out from under her, as it certainly would be if Paul bought the place.
Second, I was attracted as hell to the woman. Having her work for me was not ideal. Mixing business and pleasure was never a great idea, especially when I had no intention of ever sealing the deal with a woman, long-term commitment and all. My friends and I may have been college kids, but I’d agreed to the bachelor pact for a reason.
“I do,” she said now to my stupid fucking question. What the hell had I been thinking?
“You sure? I’m not my father.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What does that mean, exactly?”
“I’m pretty sure you know what that means.”
“That he was nice and you…”
I raised my brows. “Go ahead.”
“Fine,” she said, lifting her chin. “You are less nice.”
Refusing to smile, I inwardly gave the woman credit. She was quick. And honest. I liked both of those things about her.
“I might not have put it exactly like that.”
“No?” she asked, back to herself. The fire in Pia’s eyes had gone out just before she ran out of the bar. Even if Parker hadn’t pushed me off the bar stool, I’d planned on coming after her anyway. Seeing her defeated, eyes closed, when I opened the door hadn’t felt… right.
“No. As long as you realize we’re two different people, and that there’s every likelihood you’ll be out of a job sooner rather than later anyway?—”
“Jesus,” she said. “You’re planning on firing me again, even before I start?”
“No, but I haven’t made any long-term decisions about keeping the inn. If I do sell, the most likely buyer will just as likely hire a family member to manage the place. That’s one of the reasons I didn’t want you to stay.”
“Oh.”
“Did I take the wind out of your sails, Pia?”
As if she’d admit it. “You could have told me that earlier rather than, ‘No thanks. Go home,’” she said, her hands flailing up in frustration.
How I’d love to take those pretty hands, hold them above her head and pin them to the wall, our bodies pressed together. I would devour those full lips of hers and absolutely not think of them wrapped around my dick.
Fuck. This was such a bad idea. “I don’t remember it quite like that.”
“Close enough.”
Stalemate.
Damned if I didn’t want to go back inside. With her.
“Come back in,” I said. “We can talk specifics.” Remembering Parker and Beck, and not wanting to endure the two clowns’ commentary, I had a better idea. “Did you eat dinner yet?”
“No. I was actually planning to grab something in there.”
“O’Malley’s is fine if you like chicken fingers and fries.” I pointed to a restaurant on the other side of the town square. “The Big Easy has much better food.”
She hesitated. Not that I blamed her.
“Let me tell the guys, and I’ll grab you dinner. It’s the least I can do after this morning.”
“That is true.”
I smiled. Pia didn’t pull any punches. Before she could change her mind, I headed back inside.
“Hey, taking Pia to the Big Easy,” I said to Parker as I walked up to him. “You’re on your own for the night.”
“The whole night, huh?”
“Don’t be an ass. I’m rehiring her. We have some things to discuss.”
“Did he just say he’s rehiring Pia?” Beck asked.
The innuendo in Beck’s tone was one of the reasons I hadn’t taken her back inside. “Tell Cole I’ll catch him at the house later.”
“Will do,” Parker said.
Back outside, glad to see Pia was still there, I resolved to try to make up for earlier. While it was true I still didn’t think working with Pia was the best idea in the world, what was done was done. I’d make the best of it, stop picturing her naked and keep our relationship professional.
“This is the best of the three restaurants in the town square, but there are a few others within walking distance that aren’t bad. And you probably already know the Coffee Cabin has decent coffee but even better coffee cake.”
“You don’t look like a guy who eats a lot of coffee cake.”
“Eh, not usually a fan of empty calories, but I indulge every once in a while.”
“That’s what I thought.”
I opened the door to the Big Easy, a New Orleans-themed restaurant with colorful shutters and wrought-iron accents that more than hinted at its roots.
As usual, the owner was standing behind a hostess stand.
“Pia,” I said as we walked up to the stand. “Meet Maggie LeBlanc. She’s graced Cedar Falls with her Cajun and Creole cuisine for more than twenty years.”
Pia stuck out her hand, which Maggie took. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Same here.” Maggie frowned at me. “I’m so sorry again about your father, Mason.”
Dad. For the briefest of moments, I’d almost forgotten, pretending my life was the same as it had been last time I visited home. But nothing would ever be the same again. Fuck, but it hurt. “Thanks, Maggie.”
“This place is incredible.” Pia was looking up at the ceiling, where beads hung from every corner. Light jazz played in the main dining room.
“On weekends there’s live jazz,” I said. “That’s usually when I like to come.”
“And during crawfish boils,” Maggie added.
I couldn’t argue that. “True. Maggie, this is Pia Russo, the new manager of Heritage Hill.”
Maggie’s eyes widened. “And who’s the innkeeper?”
“Me for now,” I said. “So do you have a table for two?”
“Sure do, come with me.”
We sat, ordered food and drinks and dove right in. Nothing personal. All business.
“So tell me everything you and Dad discussed. What you planned to do for him and the inn. What his thoughts were. Bring me up to speed.”
Pia talked about some of the same things I’d considered. Renovation to improve aesthetic appeal and functionality. A fresh color palette to appeal to modern travelers. Identifying target markets. Utilizing local partnerships to hit that market.
But her ideas went a hell of a lot further along. “I also think elevating the inn’s dining experience by hiring a chef would open up a whole new world of possibilities.”
“You’re talking about adding a dining room. That’s next-level renovation.”
“Not a dining room, necessarily. Somewhere for special events that can be incorporated into the inn’s existing structure. Wine pairings, themed tasting nights, and of course the biggie, weddings. But that could be phase two. Partnering with local restaurants, like this one, would be a good start.”
“My father hated the idea of weddings. Said it would ruin the experience for other guests.”
“He mentioned that, and to be honest…” Pia became more and more animated as she talked. “I know he wasn’t sold on the idea. But I’m positive there’s a way to include them as a part of our offerings while maintaining the serene environment your father insisted on for other guests. It would bring the income we need to make the other necessary changes and could be done tastefully.”
“We’ll have to talk more. What else do you have?” I could tell Pia was still bursting at the seams.
“Well, I’d love to lean into the idea of community involvement and partnerships. Offering joint packages for guests to explore the region. Maggie mentioned a crawfish boil. That’s the exact kind of thing I’m thinking—hosting community festivals and events to increase visibility and build relationships. Think seasonal celebrations and holiday packages. And obviously beefing up a customer loyalty program.”
“Obviously,” I said as our meals were brought out.
Pia’s enthusiasm was difficult to ignore. I could easily see why Dad hired her, even if I was still surprised he’d reached out in the first place.
“I’ll be honest, this sounds like a lot.”
“That’s why you have me.”
Of course she meant professionally, but for the briefest of seconds I imagined Pia was talking personally. I should have let her go. Leave the bar, leave Cedar Falls, and not look back.
What I should do, and would do?
Two very different things.