Chapter One #2
The menus would need to be updated, for starters.
Which would require adjusting the dinnerware order, redesigning the place cards, and probably adding the restaurant’s branding.
That had the potential to be a whole thing in itself, depending on the branding style.
The website would need to be updated, along with the invitations and email correspondence… and at least a dozen other things.
“Wow. Thank you so much,” I finally managed, hoping my voice didn’t sound as tense as every one of my muscles felt.
It wasn’t that I was ungrateful. The offer was generous, and we’d been waiting for this sponsorship.
But the catering detail was unexpected, and with my stress about this event already wrapped around my neck like a choker, the only thing I wanted to do now was turn back to my notepad and write out a dozen new lists.
I tightened the grip on my pen.
“I’m thrilled to do it,” Jillian said. “My chef is too good not to show off, and this clinic is too important to not get built. We’ll swing by the restaurant after lunch so you can meet him.”
“Lunch?” I looked at Talia.
She nodded toward the door. “Come on. I’m buying. We deserve to celebrate.” She raised her eyebrows knowingly at my hesitation, and I forced in a deep breath.
I rarely left the office for lunch, usually opting to eat at my desk to get more work done. Once a week or so, Robin managed to drag me away from my computer to eat with her and Kelly in the courtyard, but never for more than twenty minutes.
I knew how it sounded, but I didn’t think of myself as uptight or compulsive, and I’d never been this rigid at any of my corporate jobs.
I just also hadn’t cared about those jobs.
Not like I did this one, where I had a boss who both valued and believed in me, a reason to raise money other than lining already rich pockets, and a place I could finally see myself settling into for the long term.
A place I could belong.
If I failed, I might lose it all. And who knew if I’d ever find something as good again.
Jillian led the way out of the conference room, looking like she owned the building in her tailored dress. Talia waited for me by the door as I gathered my things, the stillness of her presence a stark contrast to the tornado in my chest.
Her hand landed on my forearm as I passed, and she gave a light squeeze. “You got this,” she whispered.
The confidence in her tone bolstered me enough that my shoulders eased down an inch. I gave a firm nod. I’d been here long enough to know Talia didn’t believe in things blindly. She believed in what she had cause to, and right now, she believed in me.
I was determined to prove her right.
Jillian insisted on paying for lunch. I had a feeling she insisted on a lot of things and that she usually got her way. I admired that about her. She knew what she wanted and what it took to get it, so that was what she did.
She and Talia did most of the talking throughout the meal, catching up like old friends, laughing loud enough to turn heads across the café’s patio. Their easygoing dynamic eased the tension from my muscles, and before long, I was laughing along with them.
By the time we strolled up to the sleek stone exterior of Jillian’s restaurant in Rittenhouse Square, my body was loose in the way that came after a cocktail or two despite drinking only water at lunch.
I’d even released any apprehension about the change in catering plans.
Hell, it might make my job easier. I’d have direct access to the chef in a way I wouldn’t have with the hotel’s catering operation, and Jillian would ensure we got everything we needed.
This would be good.
My skin cooled slightly as we stepped under the shade of the restaurant’s black awning. Its starkness was softened by the green plants hanging off the second-story balcony, balancing the whole look in a classic yet feminine way.
“Welcome to Ardena,” Jillian said as she held open the door for us.
My breath caught as we walked into a carefully crafted wash of color. “This is lovely,” I said.
The dining room was surprisingly large for this area of the city, made to feel even bigger by the high floor-to-ceiling windows.
Rich earth-toned fabrics warmed the space, while eclectic lighting, colorful paintings, and hanging plants made it feel almost cozy.
Adding to that vibe was the lounge area that divided the dining room from the bar.
Two decadent-looking blue velvet couches faced each other in the center, inviting people to sink into them.
The whole thing was distinctly Jillian—tailored and sophisticated while managing to be uniquely grounded.
“Thank you. I’m really quite proud,” she said, taking in the space as if seeing it for the first time.
Her eyes lit up when they reached the bar.
“And this…” She waved her hands toward the far end of the sleek white countertop where a man in loose black pants and a white tee was bent over a notepad.
“This here is the real gem,” she said as she guided us toward him.
I couldn’t make out much of him aside from him being white with short brown hair, broad shoulders, and a faint scruff of beard lining his jaw. Still, it was enough to send a flutter of nerves through my stomach that was nothing like the anxiety I’d felt at the office.
Robin wasn’t wrong about me needing to date, and I was suddenly painfully aware of how long it’d been since I’d interacted with a man I found attractive.
“I’d like to introduce you to the man behind the magic,” Jillian said.
He straightened from the bar, revealing his tall frame, his T-shirt pulling tight across his chest. Sharp blue eyes collided with mine, and I held my breath.
He was very attractive. And painfully my type. Brown hair, blue eyes, and just a hint of gruffness. Like Alec.
A lot like Alec, actually.
Something tugged beneath the fluttering in my stomach. A tickle like déjà vu but not quite.
“Jase,” Jillian said. “Meet Dani Mills, your new partner in crime.”
My stomach dropped at his name as recognition slammed into me with the force of a speeding car.
No.
“Dani, meet my executive chef…”
This is not happening.
“Jase Beauford.”
All the air fled my lungs as I held his startling blue gaze, and for a second, I was looking into the eyes of my past.
Beauford.
As in Alec Beauford.
As in my ex-boyfriend Alec Beauford.
My ex-boyfriend who I could not stop dreaming about and who happened to have an older brother named—you guessed it—Jase.
This is not happening.
But it was. Because looking back at me was none other than Alec’s brother.
Alec, who I wanted nothing more than to shove to the furthest recesses of my mind and forget all about so I could stop being haunted by his smile and his handsome face and the perfect cut of his jaw.
A jaw that was apparently some sort of arousal trigger for my brain because here I was, staring at the very same and equally handsome jawline of his brother, imagining running my hand along its edge.
If I could have smacked myself in the face without raising alarm bells for the other three people here, I would have. There could be no imagining. No anything.
This was Alec’s brother. His brother, who I now had to work closely with for the next three months if I had any shot of pulling this event off.
How is this happening?
Any semblance of ease I’d managed to find over lunch disintegrated as my anxiety roared back to life more violently than a hurricane.
Three months of Alec’s brother.
Shit.
Get Don’t Remind Me (Oh, Brother #1) now!