Chapter 6 Ava
AVA
Thomas Stein, the director of investments at Luxe Hotels, was in the middle of a speech of about the value he could see in The Galley, his voice calm and quiet.
He was a short man with thin lips, a forced smile, and quick, darting eyes, who had done his best to assure us that the restaurant was in good hands.
Unlike Ray Murphy, who had been a passive investor, Luxe Hotels was going to be very involved.
I tore my gaze away from the man to look at the sky through the window. I was signing away Mom’s restaurant to this company with no guarantee of what they’d do with it. I was exhausted—that was what it was. That was the only reason I was doing such a thing.
Gabriela nudged me gently, and I turned back to her and then Thomas.
On the way here, we’d passed rows upon rows of desks and employees sitting at computers in an open-floor plan. The halls were deathly silent, and the only thing I’d heard was the robotic tap, tap on keyboards.
“Mr. Stein, what’s your vision for us, the restaurant, and its staff in the coming years?” I asked when he stopped his speech to take a breath.
Gabriela turned to me, her eyebrows slightly raised. Go easy on him, she seemed to warn me.
“Well, unfortunately, every business faces some hard times. Your restaurant is having a difficult time staying afloat, and we plan to infuse money into the operations and turn things around. Our CEO’s first recommendation is to upgrade the equipment and remodel the restaurant as a part of our investment. ”
I bristled. Remodeling the restaurant would take months.
“What is your CEO’s plan for our employment while the restaurant is being remodeled? And for the eleven other people that we employ?” I asked while Gabriela stiffened.
Before he could respond, we heard a knock on the door.
“Thomas, do you mind if I pop in for this meeting?” asked an eerily familiar voice.
It was deep, smooth, and very confident.
It was a voice that had most recently given an egotistical man a public dressing-down in a restaurant.
It was not a voice I’d expected to hear in an austere meeting room on the fifth floor of a steely skyscraper.
The hairs on the back of my neck pricked as I turned, my mouth dropping open when I saw Desmond McKinley by the door.
He kept his gaze on Thomas, but I could very keenly feel his awareness of me.
I could see it in his smile. My eyes traveled from his lips to his straight nose, over that angular jaw, until I met his intense, dark eyes.
The look he gave me almost took my breath away.
He knew I’d be here.
Desmond McKinley took a step into the room.
His dark hair was cut short in a crew cut, and with his gray suit and white linen shirt, he radiated power.
He was so tall that he blocked all the light from streaming in through the door behind him.
I felt small in his presence in a way no other man could make me feel.
There was a moment of silence as Desmond and I locked eyes. I stared at him, shocked, while he returned my gaze with calm, triumphant eyes.
After what seemed like a long moment, where Desmond held my gaze, Thomas coughed and stepped forward. “Ah, Mr. McKinley,” he said. “We were just talking about you.”
I blinked.
Desmond McKinley is the CEO of Luxe Hotels?
Until we moved to New York three years ago, I used to google him obsessively. Shoot. I’d made a mistake by not keeping up. If I had, I wouldn’t have been blindsided like this. I wouldn’t be looking like a fool right now. I’d be meeting with a completely different investor.
I locked eyes with him and quickly looked away. I thought he’d looked powerful and alluring four nights ago. But Desmond McKinley during the day was an entirely different feast for the eyes. He had steely brown eyes, broad shoulders, and a clipped smile that could bring any woman to her knees.
After running into him four nights before, I hadn’t expected this.
I’d been so caught up with the terms of the investment and rereading the fine print that I hadn’t bothered to look into who the CEO was.
What does it matter? I’d thought when I heard of Luxe Hotels.
I rested my hands on the sides of my black chair, my mouth dry. What in the world was happening?
“Mr. Stein was just filling us in about a proposed remodeling of The Galley, something that could mean shutting down the restaurant for months,” I said, staring at the table as I recounted the events of the previous days.
Gabriela’s gaze turned to me for a quick second, eyebrows raised just a little at my antagonistic tone.
“It’ll be a quick three-month remodeling project before the restaurant’s up and running again,” Desmond said, approaching us on our side of the table. “But first, let me tell you how thrilled we are to have you join the Luxe family.”
She stood up. “We are glad to be here. Gabriela Summers,” she said warmly, shaking Desmond’s hand.
He let go of hers and turned to me. Under the watchful gaze of Thomas, I stood up and shook Desmond’s hand.
“Ava Hale,” I said breathlessly, shaking his hand and observing the smile spreading over his full lips while Gabriela looked away.
“Nice name,” he said with a grin before turning to Thomas, who nodded at him to go ahead.
I felt my heart skip a beat as Desmond walked past me, his fingers grazing the back of the black leather chair as he took a seat across from me.
Is something wrong with me? The man was buying my mother’s restaurant, and the only thought in my mind was, Why does he look so darn handsome today?
“We want to update The Galley with Luxe Hotels’ brand of colors,” he said with a hint of charm in his voice.
Here we go. I wasn’t too wrong about the new investor swooping in and demolishing Mom’s legacy, was I?
“The good news, however, is that Luxe Hotels always takes care of our employees, including the new ones. So, we’ve already found temporary positions for you and your team at various other businesses that Luxe Hotels owns. Temporary jobs until the restaurant is remodeled.”
He pushed a bunch of manila folders toward us, and I saw that it had our names on it.
“Ms. Hale, you have the option of continuing to work here, in this very building, as the manager of the café in our lobby, The Java Hobby.” Desmond turned to Gabriela.
“Ms. Summers, you’ll have the option of doing the same in our Lower Manhattan location.
I’ll make sure we match the income you’ve been making—and increasing it, if needed, based on current trends. ”
I blinked while Gabriela half turned around to look at me. We hadn’t accounted for the remodeling, nor had we considered working apart. It shouldn’t have been a big surprise to us that we were being split up, but it felt like someone had taken a jackhammer to my heart.
“Should you choose to continue to work, the rest of your staff will also be employed at our locations without a break in their salary.”
Work here, in the same building as Desmond? Hell no.
The man’s personality seemed to fill the room, and I was having trouble thinking straight.
I shut the folder. “And if I refuse?” I asked, my voice shaky as I considered my options. I could find a job elsewhere, anywhere else, where I wouldn’t have to see Desmond walk into work every day. Or him leave work to go meet a new girlfriend every Friday.
Thomas and Desmond exchanged a look.
“Then, as per our contract, I’m afraid we will not be required to find locations for the other employees.”
I became very still. “All eleven other employees?” I asked.
He nodded.
I drew in a deep breath and glanced at Gabriela.
She kept her face blank, but I could read her, even when she was still.
Troy wouldn’t have tacos for many weeks until Gabriela could find a new job.
Freya would have to pause her wedding plans with Rhett.
Lily would really hate going through interviews again.
Ugh. Not to mention, I would have no idea what to do with myself in the midst of it all. I was directionless as it was.
I turned back to Desmond and gave him a small nod. “All right then, I’ll take it. It’s something at least until the remodeling is complete and we can resume our normal jobs at the restaurant.”
Desmond nodded and stood up. “Juniper Halstead, our director of human resources, made sure the paperwork went through quickly so you could start right away. Someone from HR will take care of you when you get here on Monday.”
I’ll be working for Desmond.
Gabriela and I stood up, and Desmond shook our hands. His palm was warm in mine, sending tingles up my arm at the contact. I broke away quickly.
“Thank you for the investment and for taking care of my employees.”
Even if you had to be such a jerk about it.
He smiled a bigger smile while Gabriela stepped out of the room with Thomas. Desmond looked like he was going to follow, but he waited for a moment while the door fell shut before he turned to me. The look on his face was hard to read.
“So we meet again, Ava,” he said in that familiar voice.
Was he smirking? Having a laugh at my expense?
“You’re the CEO of Luxe Hotels?” I asked.
He ran a hand through his hair and nodded.
My head shot up in an instant. “Did you know?” I asked. “When we met at the restaurant? Was that why you stood up for me?”
“No, I didn’t know you were the owner of The Galley.” He stared at me, a conflicted expression crossing his face. “And any decent man would have broken up that date, Ava. No woman should have to put up with such bad behavior.”
We stared at each other in silence. He could afford to be chivalrous now and to pretend like nothing had happened between us in the past. I couldn’t pretend. I took in the grown man before me, the fine suit he wore, and the brightness of a metal watch that occasionally flashed on his wrist.
“We are not a girl and boy in high school anymore,” I said. “I’m not a woman who needs to be rescued from a bad date either.”
He looked up at that. “I hope you aren’t meeting that man again, are you?”
“Not an appropriate question for this meeting, Mr. McKinley.”
He looked like he wanted to argue about it, his lips parting with a protest ready on his lips, when he stopped. He shut his mouth reluctantly and shot me a burning look, where he acknowledged I was right.
His gaze dipped to my neck, and for a second, I thought he was going to give me the once-over.
“You still have the locket,” he muttered, and my fingers instinctively went to the chain locket we’d bought together a long time ago.
Shit.
During one summer, we’d gone to a fair, where Desmond had successfully completed a round of Ring Toss and won a locket for me. Days later, I’d gifted him a personalized key chain with our initials. They were the first gifts we’d gotten each other during our relationship.
Afraid how it must look, I said, “I took out our picture after—”
“After I gave up on us,” he finished.
That about sums it up.
I nodded.
We had met during the junior prom and dated for more than a year, falling deeper in love every day.
We were a perfect complement to each other in many ways.
I was the extrovert who attended a lot of events.
He liked to play football and hated the limelight.
He attended every single event I was a part of, every single dance performance I gave, and never shied away from showing me that he was committed to me.
Calm and reliable. That was what I’d thought of him as.
He loved video games, and because I had no clue about them, he patiently taught me week after week so that we could play together.
Everything seemed perfect—until, in our senior year of high school, Desmond’s mom passed away in a car accident.
A head-on collision with a pickup truck.
I thought I’d been understanding and given him space when he needed it and tried to be there for him when he wanted me to.
But three weeks later, he told me that he was ending things.
And—this hurt even more—he told me that he had been planning to end it with me all long anyway when our last year of high school was up.
I was the fool who had planned our next five years together, including applying to the same colleges he had. All of that had come crashing down around me when Desmond disappeared from my life.
His gaze lingered on the locket for a while before he looked back up at me and nodded. “That makes sense,” he said, his voice dry.
I didn’t want to linger on those memories. But they did remind me what working with Desmond in the next few months was going to be like.
“I can’t work here,” I admitted. “I’ll speak to Thomas about finding a different location for me.”
He walked to sit down on the black leather chair across from me. “Why is that?”
“Because,” I began with conviction before I faltered.
“Because we dated in the past?” he prompted while my cheeks flushed with warmth.
“Ten years ago,” I said.
We were in our late twenties now and far from the giddy teenagers we had once been.
“That doesn’t count.”
“I might object that it counts, but let’s say, for the moment, I agree with you. You still asked me if I was going to meet that guy again. There’re traces of our past, our familiarity with each other, in everything you say to me.”
“Let’s call it the concern of one childhood friend for another,” he said, stretching his long legs in front of him. “A concern that is nipped in the bud since we both recognize the value of our working relationship now.”
I hesitated. I couldn’t ignore the thought in my mind that said, What a pity.
“So, none of that will affect my job in any way?”
He nodded. “I won’t say a word to anyone about our past.”
“You mean that we dated?”
He nodded. “That we had a brief relationship many years ago.”
It hadn’t been a brief relationship, but this wasn’t the time to argue over that. Not when the power balance rested in his favor.
I turned to go.
“Oh, before I forget, our café serves gnocchi, Ms. Hale,” Desmond said in a low voice, his eyes playful. “You’ll like it here.”
I looked away, my neck feeling warm. “It’s only temporary, Mr. McKinley. Before you know it, I’ll be back at my restaurant.”
The last thing I saw as I walked out of the meeting room was Desmond standing with his hand casually in the pocket of his pants, but he turned to look at me over his shoulder just before the door fell shut.