Chapter Three #3
Cash arched a brow as he chewed the second half of the tartlet, leaving a smear of chocolate at the corner of his mouth.
Ivan gestured to his own mouth, and Cash wiped the chocolate off with his thumb, then licked the cream from the digit before giving Harry his attention again. “And how does Rory feel about that?”
“Sounds great to me,” he replied. “I’ll go wherever I’m needed.”
Ivan should’ve been relieved that Rory wouldn’t be constantly underfoot.
Living in the same house would be hard enough.
But elation was the last thing he felt when Harry whisked Rory off to give him a tour of her operations.
His annoyance grew when Finley and Kieran sat on either side of him like bookends and Dylan slid down the opposite bench to take Rory’s vacated seat.
He looked over at Finley and Kieran. “Do you mind?”
They rolled their eyes and scooted over a few inches. “Better?”
“Don’t you two have kissy faces to make at each other somewhere else?” Ivan asked.
“Not until you tell us the scoop on the new guy,” Kieran said.
Ivan shook his head. “You’re getting as bad as Tyler and Owen.
Bunch of damn nosy church busybodies.” His gaze strayed back to Harry and Rory, who had nearly reached the ranch house.
Harry was laughing at something Rory said, and seeing him fit in did funny things to Ivan’s insides.
Then he recalled Rory’s confession that he couldn’t stand himself. “Just be nice to him, okay?”
“Like you were with me?” Kieran asked.
Ivan leveled him with a dark look. “How many times do I need to apologize for our rough start?”
Kieran shrugged. “At least once more it seems.”
“You’re still within striking range.”
Kieran rubbed his ribcage and scooted down another foot just as Cash approached the table.
“Can we talk for a minute?” his boss asked.
“Of course.” Ivan stood up and took care of his trash before following Cash a respectful distance away from the tent and the nosy Nellies watching them.
“I know I’ve ambushed you already today, but I took an important call right before Nick showed up that I need to discuss with you. It seems your honey is creating quite a buzz.”
Ivan smiled at the word play. “Our honey,” Ivan reminded him. Rocky Mountain Liquid Gold was Ivan’s brainchild, but Cash had backed him financially and emotionally.
Cash dismissed him with a wave. “I know nothing about honey production, but you’re a genius, which is why Colorado Fine Cuisine wants to do a piece about your liquid gold.”
Ivan tried to stave off the panic that arose when he thought about dealing with media types.
Too late. He heard the frenzied clicks and whirs of cameras, felt the heat from the lights, and heard the urgent pleas from journalists.
Mr. Gallagher, over here. A word please, Mr. Gallagher.
Do you regret your actions, Mr. Gallagher?
Was he worth it, Mr. Gallagher? The frenzied media scrutiny after his arrest and during his trial had been insufferable, and the fallout had nearly destroyed his family.
“Ivan,” Cash said. His voice was a gentle lifeline back to reality.
Blinking, he brought his friend into focus.
Dark brows slashed down to form a deep vee, marring the handsome man’s forehead.
Ivan plastered on what he hoped was a radiant smile.
“That’s exciting news,” he said, though his strained voiced revealed the lie.
No, that wasn’t fair. Ivan could acknowledge that the exposure would be excellent for their company while wanting nothing to do with it.
A quick solution came to him. “You should totally do the interview.”
Cash crossed his arms over his chest. The weight of his shrewd stare pressed against Ivan’s chest. It reminded him of the time he’d overestimated his prowess during a bench press session in the weight room in high school.
Ivan’s arms had cramped under the strain, and the weight bar would’ve crushed his chest if his spotter hadn’t bailed him out of trouble.
Ivan rubbed his chest as if that alone could ease the pressure.
It helped in the sense that he knew the suffocating sensation was in his head.
Nothing was actually suffocating him, not a weight bar or Cash’s disapproval.
He only saw empathy in his friend’s steely blue gaze.
Cash knew what he’d gone through because he’d patiently listened as Ivan processed his trauma both during and after his incarceration.
“I’m afraid Roberto isn’t interested in what I have to say about the honey.”
“Who’s Roberto?” Ivan asked.
“Roberto Vincente. The magazine’s editor-in-chief. We met several years ago when mutual friends set us up on a blind date.”
That little nugget of information intrigued Ivan and nearly quelled his rising panic. He knew next to nothing about Cash’s romantic life. He was the most private person Ivan had ever met. “Didn’t work out?” he asked, pressing for more information.
Cash’s lips hooked into a wry smile because he knew Ivan was fishing. “No, but I made an excellent friend. We share many interests and a lot of them center on food and spirits.”
“And you told him about Rocky Mountain Liquid Gold?” Ivan asked.
“No. Roberto experienced your brilliance firsthand at John Carlo’s.
Your honey was featured heavily in the baklava he ordered.
Roberto loved the dish so much he asked for the brand of honey used.
The server passed his compliments and question on to the pastry chef and learned about our company.
Roberto made a note on his phone but forgot about it until he had a similar experience at Wyatt’s Chophouse last night.
” Cash chuckled for a few moments. “He was talking so fast about some intricate dessert that I could hardly understand him. Anyway, after hearing the company’s name twice, he did an internet search and saw my name listed as a partner. ”
“Which is why you should do the interview,” Ivan said.
Cash shook his head. “I already told Roberto I’m a silent partner in the operation. I don’t know jack about bees, their hives, or honey production. That’s all you, big guy. I believed in your mission and wanted to see your dreams come true. That’s the extent of my involvement.”
Ivan snorted. Cash had provided so much more than the startup money he’d needed to establish his hives. “Don’t downplay your role.”
Cash held up his hands in surrender. “I speak the truth.” He lowered his arms and offered Ivan an encouraging smile.
“You’re the genius behind the brand and the only one who can properly convey the magic of the honey.
I told Roberto I would speak to you. I didn’t tell him you were gun-shy around reporters, but I think he sensed the reasons for my hesitation.
He’s familiar with my mission for the ranch.
” Cash smiled, and Ivan wondered what was going on inside the man’s brain.
“Roberto just said, ‘Pretty please. I don’t bite.’ And I promised to discuss it with you.
The ball is in your court, Ivan. I would never force you to do anything that was detrimental to your health. ”
Ivan swallowed down the surging panic before it could take hold again. “But you’d like to push me outside my comfort zone.”
Cash didn’t need to respond; the answer was obvious in the man’s kind and patient expression. But letting Ivan guess his thoughts or make assumptions about his frame of mind wasn’t in Cash’s nature. “Would I be a good friend, employer, or business partner if I didn’t want to push you a little?”
Ivan shook his head because he knew Cash was right.
A feature in Colorado Fine Cuisine could be a real game changer for their honey business.
He’d worked hard to get their product into quality grocers and restaurants.
His effort had paid off…if only he could get past his phobia and bitterness to separate the good media types from the bad.
Rocky Mountain Liquid Gold deserved the attention.
Ivan would need to work through his issues because he knew Cash wouldn’t relent.
And why should he? This opportunity was one Ivan had orchestrated with research, ingenuity, and perseverance.
It was within his grasp. All he had to do was reach out and grab it. “When?”
“Roberto said he wouldn’t get to the interview and photoshoot for a few weeks, possibly longer.”
“Which would give me time to work through my issues.” Ivan said it so Cash wouldn’t have to. He took a deep breath and nodded.
Cash clapped him on the shoulder. “Read some of Roberto’s pieces. It might help put some concerns to rest.” He tilted his head as if considering his next words. “You know, Rory would be an excellent source to tap for insight on interviews.”
Source to tap? Ivan had a hard time stifling a moan but managed. “I appreciate the suggestion.” But he had no intention of taking it. He blew out a breath. “But I have one of my own.”
“I’m listening,” Cash said.
“Let’s do this interview and photoshoot together,” Ivan said. “It will help me break the ice and assign positive memories to dealing with press types.”
Cash held his gaze for a few seconds before nodding briefly. “I think that’s an excellent compromise. Would you like me to contact Roberto to confirm, or would you like to do it?”
“I’ll do it,” Ivan said. Cash retrieved his phone and started typing. “I just need his contact information—” Ivan’s phone pinged with an incoming email from Cash. He smirked and shook his head. “I’ll reach out and let him know we’re interested.”
“This is the right decision, and I’m proud of you for making it.”
“Hold your praise until I survive the interview. There’s still time for me to ruin it.”
“You’re going to be great, and it will get easier each time you field these requests. I’m telling you, Ivan, this is the beginning of something wonderful.”
Did he dare hope? He wanted to, he truly did.
“And I’m sorry for springing Rory on you like I did.”