Chapter 31
It was well after midnight before we finished washing and putting away all of the dishes. The sous and I scrubbed the kitchen from top to bottom, then shared a toast with a little brandy I’d purchased for the occasion.
“You all did excellent work,” I told them, passing out the paper cups of amber liquor. “Thank you for all your efforts. It really meant the world to me. I know it got a little bumpy there for a bit, but we pulled it out the bag. Well done.”
We raised a toast and knocked back our shots before saying our goodbyes. The snow had stopped a couple of hours earlier and the Hawthornes had already arranged for plows to clear the road down the mountain and back through town, to help their guests and crews make it home.
I was considering a final stress-cry in the walk-in when I heard the tell-tale click of Mrs. Hawthorne’s heels approaching.
This was it, I told myself. Time for my firing. And with the roads clear, I didn’t have an excuse to wait ’til morning to clear out. With any luck, Megan was still awake, and I could crash with her and Hannah at The Snowdrift tonight.
As Mrs. Hawthorne entered, I saw that she had someone else with her. My heart leaped into my throat.
“Eleanor Evans,” she said, gesturing to me, then her guest. “This is Chef Marcus Lee. We were fortunate enough to have him as a guest tonight, and he asked to meet you.”
“Chef,” I said, absolutely starstruck as I held out my hand to shake his.
“Call me Marcus.” The Japanese-American man in the impeccable purple velvet suit took my hand with a beaming smile. “Your squab was perfection. The sweetness and heat were perfectly balanced, while not overpowering the umami. Where did you pick up that recipe?”
A blush bloomed across my cheeks. I wasn’t even sure I was still standing upright, totally bowled over by the compliment.
“It’s a play on a few different recipes. But with my own twist on it. I sort of improvised.”
“If you don’t mind, you must write it down for me. I’m definitely stealing it for my next dinner party.”
“Of course,” I stuttered. “I’d be honored.”
“I understand you live in Denver. I’ll be there for a friend’s pop-up in July. You must join us.”
“I’ll actually be in London.” If I found thirty grand lying on the street somewhere. “I’m set to attend culinary school at your alma mater.”
“Really?” His eyes lit up. “That’s excellent news. They’re lucky to have you. You must keep in touch.”
“Certainly. Thank you, Chef. Marcus.”
“It was a wonderful evening, Caroline.” He kissed her on both cheeks, then squeezed her hands. “I better run. Timothy is probably furious with me.”
Once Marcus had left, Mrs. Hawthorne cleared her throat to address me. I braced myself for what I expected would be a truly historic ass-chewing.
“Well, Miss Evans. I told you I expected perfection.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, staring at my shoes.
“And if Marcus Lee says your meal was perfect, far be it from me to contradict him.”
“What?” My eyes lifted to hers. I was completely at a loss. “Thank you, but . . .”
“I know I’ve been hard on you, but you’ve proven yourself capable. Some people crack under pressure. You’ve risen to the challenge. I admit I had my doubts. Nevertheless, I think we’ll be pleased to have you around for the season. Good work.”
I was dumbfounded. As Mrs. Hawthorne left the kitchen, I staggered back against the island. Clearly Amelia hadn’t caught her mother yet to tell her about the Instagram posts. Maybe she was waiting until morning to bring it to her. In which case, the forthcoming ass-chewing would be twice as bad.
For several minutes, I stood in the kitchen nursing that bottle of brandy, almost too shellshocked to move. Until Charles crept in, with something concealed behind his back. He’d discarded his tuxedo jacket and bow tie, and his smile was hesitant.
“So, that was something, huh?” He edged his way into the kitchen. “I got you a little something. To say congratulations. And, I guess, as a memento.”
Charles placed the small turquoise box in the center of the island and pushed it toward me. Inside was a silver link bracelet with a heart pendant.
“There’s an inscription,” he said.
I turned over the pendant. On the back it said, “We’ll always have the blizzard.”
At those simple, silly words, I burst into tears. Charles was at my side immediately, scooping me up just before I sank to the floor.
“Elle, hey.” He brought me into his arms, holding me tight against his chest. “Hey, what’s wrong? Shh. It’s okay. Tell me what happened.”
“I heard you fighting with your parents today,” I muttered against his chest between sobs. “How they said we were only for the season and you had to get your priorities straight. That it wasn’t appropriate to be dating the help.”
“Oh, no. Elle.” He kissed the top of my head, squeezing me tighter while my tears soaked into his shirt.
“No wonder you were giving me the brush-off. Hey, don’t listen to them, okay?
Honestly, I almost never do. They like to huff and puff, but I’m my own person, got it?
I make my own decisions. And they usually come around to find a way to live with them.
It’s not like I’m out there trying to start an alpaca farm or something, right? ”
I laughed into his shirt, wiping the snot from my nose. “Alpacas?”
“Yeah, I don’t know. It was the first thing that came to mind.”
“Alpacas are cute.”
He chuckled and I felt the vibration of his chest against my cheek. “You want one? I can find you a flat in London that allows pets.”
“I’m not going to London,” I said, sniffing. “Your mom’s going to fire me when Amelia tells her what I’ve done.”
“What?” Charles pulled away to meet my eyes, his arms still locked behind my back. “What are you talking about? Mother said she was thrilled with how the food turned out. She couldn’t stop bragging about you to everyone at the party.”
Really?
“I created this Instagram account,” I told him.
“It’s just a stupid little food thing, basically.
I post what I’m cooking, about my job, and some reviews about places in town.
It was supposed to be anonymous, but I guess I didn’t do a very good job hiding it because basically everyone figured it out.
Only Amelia took offense to some of the things I posted.
And I swear I didn’t mean anything by it, but—”
“That’s what you’re upset about?” He smiled sympathetically, wiping the tears from my cheeks with the pad of his thumb. “Amelia is sort of a busybody. She tends to get hung up on stupid stuff and moves on just as quickly.”
“She was really upset,” I insisted, wiping my nose again and feeling like a disgusting, sniveling mess. “She said she would tell your mother that I broke the NDA and have me fired.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.”
“No,” I sniffed. “She’s right. I was totally out of line. She warned me about discretion and I ignored it. I knew even when I started it that I was tempting fate. It was stupid and I feel awful about it.”
“I know there’s no way you meant anything malicious.” He held me in his arms, gently rubbing my back. Which only reminded me how sweaty and disgusting I felt after being in the kitchen all night. “I’ll make her understand that.”
“I just feel terrible,” I said, dropping my head against his chest. “She looked so betrayed.”
“My sister’s been burned before. She had a hard time making friends because, for a while there, it always felt like they were only using her for trips or connections.
Especially when we were in college. People would post photos with her for clout, then turn around and talk shit behind her back and whatever. ”
I nodded, sympathizing with her. “Girls can be cruel.”
“We all make mistakes,” he insisted. “But Amelia doesn’t know you like I do. I’ll make her understand.” He pulled me once more against his chest and tucked me under his chin. “I’ll talk to her. And Mom if I have to. I’ll make them understand.”
“How?” I asked.
“Simple. I’ll tell them I’m in love with you.”
The words washed over me like the first rays of morning light after a storm. Warm and comforting, filling the empty spaces of my heart with elation. Because I realized that I felt the same about him. Only I had to be sure he wasn’t doing this out of some misplaced desire to protect my job.
I looked up at him, searching his eyes. “You don’t have to say that.”
“Why not?” He shrugged, a warm smile spreading over his face. “It’s the truth.”
“We barely know each other.”
“That’s not true.” He leaned back against the counter, watching me with amusement, like a huge sense of relief had washed over him. “I don’t care how long it’s been. You see me. And I see you.”
“You’re out of your mind,” I said, biting back a laugh. Something about his disposition, almost effervescent, was infectious.
“Maybe,” he said, nodding. “But my heart knows exactly what it’s doing.”
“Oh, really?” I hoisted myself up on the opposite counter to sit. “And what’s that?”
“Well, I think that probably starts with making you my girlfriend.”
My lips curled. “That’s so cringe.”
He barked a laugh, shaking his head. “You really are going to make this difficult for me, aren’t you?”
“What about your parents?” I said, practically bouncing on the countertop because the excitement bubbling in my stomach was almost too much to contain.
“They love you too. Or they will. Maybe it will take them some time to grow into the idea. But I’ve got a solution for that.”
“Oh, really? I’m dying to hear what that is.”
“I go to London with you.”
If I’d been drinking, I would have spat it out all over him.
“No way your dad goes for that,” I told him.
Still the thoughts rushed through my head.
Exploring the city together. Cozying up in a little flat above a charming cafe.
Mornings in bed with tea. I’d never had a real adult relationship, and it almost felt like too much to hope for.
I guess I’d let myself believe it was something for later.
After I was settled. Established. Had myself on firmer financial footing, and I could start entertaining the idea of being responsible for anyone but myself.
I’d never dared even get a houseplant for fear it would shrivel from neglect.
“I don’t plan on giving him a choice,” Charles stated emphatically.
He was starting to look a little punch-drunk and I worried about how much he’d had to drink. The man was seriously delirious.
“I’m going to tell him I want to take a year’s sabbatical from the company. Figure a few things out. I need this time before I can fully commit to taking on a bigger role in the family business. I can’t become the CEO if I still have all these questions about my future.”
“Wow,” I said. “You’ve really thought about this, huh?”
He came to stand between my legs, brushing errant strands of hair from my face.
“I have,” he said. “Even before I met you. But especially since our first night together. If you hadn’t turned up here the next day, I was going to find you. I knew it the second we woke up together. There was no way I was letting you slip through my fingers.”
I ran my hands down his chest, smoothing the wrinkles from his shirt. “I never stood a chance, did I?”
Charles shook his head, grinning. “Nope.”
I draped my arms over his shoulders, running my nails through the soft hair at the back of his head. “I can’t believe this is really happening.”
“There is just one thing I need from you,” he said.
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“Well, I mean, I told you how I feel . . .”
I breathed out a laugh, sucking my bottom lip between my teeth. He was so cheesy. And I was so happy.
“Well, duh,” I said, locking my ankles behind his legs. “I must be in love with you. I don’t go skinny dipping with just any guy.”
Charles laughed, cupping my face in his hands to press his warm, soft lips against mine. Tender and sweet. I hugged him closer, comforted by the beating of his heart against my chest.
“So, London,” he said, pressing his forehead against mine.
“London.”
“Well, this should make for an interesting family breakfast in the morning.”