2. Julia
2
JULIA
“ A lright, you’re headed to your two o’clock, yes?” Mia asked me, not for the first time.
“Yup. Mmhmm.” It was best to just let her ask her questions. Otherwise, her anxiety could get the better of her.
“Great,” she said as I turned the wheel. I was early, but that’s okay. I liked to be prepared and give myself a little time to calm myself down before walking into a big meeting.
“News on Buffalo,” Mia started. My fingers white-knuckled the steering wheel hearing that we were going to have to talk about that mess.
“We can’t talk about something good?” I hated the whine in my voice, but it was there and I wasn’t going to shy away from it. I was still reeling from the experience.
“It is good. We’re seeing that Jared may not have done as much damage as it looked like, but the bad news is that it isn’t because he didn’t try. People have short memories, and other scandals are happening as we speak.”
“I don’t know how you can sound so chipper about that.” I couldn’t stop my smile at her pixie-like voice. She was my best friend for a reason.
“I’m not, but having a manipulative bastard trash your reputation to the point that you had to move to a new town and start fresh isn’t a good way to keep things, Julia.”
“No, but that’s what you’re supposed to do, make things better so people will want to keep working with me.”
“They will. We just need to put out a really good press release about this upcoming client?—”
“I don’t have the job yet,” I reminded her. It stung, having to start over, but it really was… well, I didn’t know what it was, but I was trying to be more level-headed. If it hadn’t been for Jared messing things up after he decided to cheat on me, I would still be in Buffalo with clients reaching out to me.
Jared decided that he would trash my work reputation because I left him when I found out he was enjoying other ladies’ company besides mine. The problem was that he was a client, a big one, and unfortunately, that made me look a bit shady. As a second burn, he’d introduced her to a lot of clients in the year they were together, then promptly said the worst things about me—I was sleeping with him to get a leg up in the business world, that all of my ideas were childish, and a bunch of other things that were garbage but seemed to do the trick.
I left Buffalo for a fresh start, and I wasn’t excited by the reminder. But I squared my shoulders and gave a tight nod. “Okay, I will get this client and we’ll get a press release and you can send it to everyone in Buffalo who had the nerve to badmouth me, and other people who might not know.”
“That’s more like it. We will. Get the client, and when the rebranding is a smashing success, we’ll send out so many press releases that Jared will start to choke on them.” She laughed.
I turned into the parking lot of The Bridge and chuckled with her. “Alright, I’m here and I’m going to go. Thank you for the good news and the image of Jared choking on press releases. That’ll keep me happy for a few hours, at least.”
“My fun imagery should last you for two days, maybe three.”
“I’ll get there. Let me land this client and we’ll see how long it lasts.”
“You’re going to kick ass!”
“Thanks, Mia. I love you.”
“Love you too!”
I hung up the phone with a smile on my face and looked at myself in the rearview mirror, fluffing my brown hair and tucking it behind my ears. I shifted my bangs to the side and made sure there was nothing in my teeth. After a good once-over, I reached into my bag and pulled out some light-pink lip gloss with a little bit of shine.
I dropped it back into my bag and took out the schematics of The Bridge.
I was meeting Nicholas—Nick—Grayson. Mia even pulled a picture, which was a great one. He had a head of thick hair that was longer and bright blue eyes. The dossier said he was in his forties and was the sole owner of The Bridge but would like to rebrand as his business partner was no longer around.
“Well, Julia,” I said to myself, “let’s go land the client.”
I stepped into the stark white area that was decked out with white decorations, large white centerpieces, and different hues of white, silver, and shimmering blue Thanksgiving decor that was far different from what I would have thought I’d find in Hearts Creek.
Someone moved behind the bar, and I smiled. “Hello,” I said. They stopped and looked at me. A younger guy with a white vest smiled back.
“What can I help you with?” His nametag read John .
“Hi, John. I’m here to see Mr. Grayson. I’m Julia Day. I’m here to discuss the marketing for the restaurant.”
“I will get Nick for you,” John said. “Feel free to take a seat at the bar. Would you like anything to drink while you wait?”
“No, thank you.” John nodded in response and turned, walking through a door behind him. I assumed it was the kitchen.
I chewed on my cheek and looked around the restaurant. If I didn’t know he was trying to rebrand because of a missing partner, I wouldn’t have thought the restaurant would need anything done to it. It was decorated with crisp, clean lines in a modern aesthetic of fine dining.
It rivaled anything I’d seen in Manhattan for sure.
“What do you think?” I heard a voice from behind. I turned, and my heart leapt into my throat as Nicholas Grayson smiled at me. Even in a chef's coat, I could see the tight lines of his physique under it. His blue eyes were the color of sapphires, and his thick hair was brushed back in thick salt and pepper hair. I looked him over feeling my smile widening. He was a very attractive man.
My cheeks heated with my thoughts.
I hoped that they weren’t as red as they felt.
“Hello,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ear. I held a hand out to greet him. He wiped his hands on the dishrag and walked closer to me. “I’m Julia Day,” I said.
“Hi, Julia. It’s great to meet you.” His hand was warm and invited a little too much heat to race up my arm. I pulled back and hoped that I wasn’t being rude by the reaction. He stepped up next to me and pointed at the restaurant. “Well? Is it salvageable?”
Although I really needed the job, I didn’t stop the “I’m not sure there’s anything I can do for you here. Everything looks amazing.” I turned away quickly, scrunching my nose up with my words, and I tried to scramble to recover. I didn’t want to talk myself out of a job.
With a quiet huff, I blew out the idea and turned back to him with a smile. “It is beautiful. Why were you thinking about rebranding, Mr. Grayson?” He was still holding my hand, and the heat from his skin to mine traveled up my arm, causing my cheeks to burn hotter.
“Call me Nick,” he said, his voice rippling down my spine.
Okay. Get a grip, Julia. Work. You are here for work. I cleared my throat and took my hand back.
I tucked my arms around my briefcase as Mr. Grayson—Nick—swept his hand to a table, and I gave him a soft smile, leading the way. I placed my bag down on one chair and Nick pulled the other chair out for me. “Thank you, Nick,” I said, surprised to have that kind of treatment. I don’t think any of the men my age knew that used to be considered polite.
I shook myself out of the next thought that came into my head and placed my chin on my palm. He smiled as he sat down and got situated.
“Well, as of noon today, this restaurant is mine.” He swept his sapphire eyes around the restaurant and they filled with a wistful look. I instantly knew how he felt about the place from how his features shifted. He shook his head, catching himself, and delivered me a charming smile. “It’s all mine. I had a business partner who made all the decorative calls, and she was the mastermind behind the fine dining experience.”
His eyes found mine, and a different type of emotion sparked in them. “That’s not me.” He huffed. “I don’t know if it ever was, so I’m happy to be rid of that side of things.”
I reached for my bag and took out a notebook and pen. I flipped the notebook open to the next blank page. I wrote out his name, the date, and the project.
“I don’t see many people using notebooks anymore to take notes,” he said.
I lifted my eyes to meet his and smiled. “I hate to disappoint you, but this will all be put into my laptop when I get back to the office.” I placed the pen down and folded my fingers over each other. “Why don’t you tell me what you do like? Did you ever find a restaurant you stepped into and thought, ‘I want a restaurant like this one day’? Or do you have an aesthetic you’ve always been drawn to?”
He chuckled and looked at his hands for longer than I was comfortable for. I wanted to ask him if he didn’t like my question or if he needed me to prompt some ideas. I opened my mouth to ask him again when his sapphire eyes turned up to mine and my words were knocked right out of my mind. Instead, I perked my brows, waiting for him to continue. “My apologies, it’s the first time that anyone has asked me what I wanted in a long time. It’s refreshing, but I’m still a little new at this.”
Well there had to be more to that story, but I was still in a business meeting and that seemed like a personal matter.
I cleared my throat. “Well, that is why you’re hiring me.” I didn't point out to him that he hadn't signed on the dotted line yet, but I had a good inclination that he would. Plus, I wanted to sound confident, and pretending I'd already landed the gig, even if I was nervous about what I said, showed moxie.
At least that’s what I told myself.
“I’d like to bring in a more homey and rustic feel. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do.” His warm smile spread wider, and any discomfort I had from presenting too bold of a statement extinguished.
“Okay,” he said. “Where do you want to start?”
“Since it seems as though you’re going for a more casual stance, I’d say the first thing to do is to change the menu, bring down the prices, and lose the all white-color scheme.”
I took a few other notes.
“I know you might think the price point should stay what it is?—”
“No, no. Actually, I fought with my ex—Er, my previous partner—about pricing for a few years,” he said, sitting up a little straighter. “I always thought if we lowered prices and gave out bigger portions, we’d entice a wider audience.”
He smiled, propping himself up on his elbows and folding his fingers over each other. “I guess I do get to make all the decisions now, huh?” His smile grew a little wider, and I found myself smiling with him.
“It is your restaurant now. You should probably make the decisions.”
I jumped when a plate of food was put in front of me. “This is a platter of all our appetizers for you to try,” a server said, giving a quick nod to me. His eyes flicked to Nick’s.
“Thanks, Michael,” Nick said and patted his hands on the tabletop. He pointed to the tray in front of him. “It’s really what we’re trying to get away from, but this is a sample of what we do,” he said.
“Thank you, Nick,” I said, looking at all the food. My mouth watered and I couldn’t wait to try it. I totally planned to. It would be good to know the product I was working with. “This all looks amazing. Can I see the menu?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said and slid out of the booth.
I checked over the cheese on the plate. It looked incredible and had a rustic appearance that made it look as though it were made in-house. I wrote a note down to make sure I asked him about it. He could also make money on it by selling to local grocery stores and artisan festivals.
I’d have to ask him about that. There were also a lot of ways to sell it in the restaurant besides as an appetizer.
My eyes roamed over another item—a small, pink ball of what appeared to be watermelon and dragon fruit with some type of foam. It was a little too much for what this town probably wanted. Although beautiful, if he wanted to go with a small, hometown feel, it may scare away the crowd he was hoping to bring in.
I picked it up and tasted it, humming at the flavor. Dragon fruit and watermelon with some type of cream cheese and honey. My eyes rolled into the back of my head.
“I like to see people enjoying my food,” Nick said. My eyes snapped open, and I thought my cheeks would burn up from embarrassment.
“This is wonderful.” I pointed to the second one. “It might not fit with the food you’re going to be making, but it’s delicious, nevertheless.”
Nick handed me the menu. Good humor sparkled in his sapphire eyes, and I found myself smiling with him.
When I managed to break away from his gaze, I flipped the menu open to the first page, and there, with the appetizers, fruit and cream cheese was spelled out in French to make it fancier. It was also almost thirty dollars.
I lifted my pen and ran the end of it over the description just to make sure I wasn’t missing anything.
A thumb caressed my cheekbone. The skin on skin contact left a line of heat down to my jaw as Nick’s fingers tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I didn’t hate it, but it was weird. My eyes flicked to meet his, and his hand was still in my hair.
I didn’t know what to feel as embarrassment painted across his face.
“Sorry,” he said, showing me a little fuzz ball. “I didn’t mean to scare you. This was in your hair.”
“Oh.” I chuckled, happy it didn’t come out as a giggle or high-pitched like my laughter could get when I got flustered by the opposite gender. I tended to get awkward personally. “Thank you, then,” I said and turned back to the menu, wishing his hand were still on my neck or skin somehow.
He couldn’t read my thoughts.
I was positive about that.
But he scooted over and sat close to me.
I wondered if I’d said anything out loud and I just hadn’t realized it.
The heat from his body thrummed, and I had a hard time not scooting closer so our thighs were touching.
“Well, what do you think?” he said. He reached for the menu and looked at it with me.
“I could tell you what would be good for the restaurant, even if you weren’t rebranding your restaurant,” I said. My words came out breathier than I’d anticipated, and if I thought I couldn’t be any more embarrassed, I would have been dead wrong.
Nick leaned back, placing a hand along the back of the booth.
I didn’t really want to see if he was flirting with me, but I couldn’t help myself. I sat back and brought the menu with me. He didn’t move his arm, and I almost fit into his body.
Surprise filtered through his eyes and he sat forward, just enough so his arm fell off the booth’s cushion and wrapped around me to scoot closer.
“Well,” I said, whispering now. I wanted to kick myself for how breathy I sounded, but it had been awhile since I was attracted to a man. And even though he was a client and I’d never go there again—I’d learned my lesson from Jared—it was nice to feel an attraction and flirt. Even if he was a bit older.
Flirting did feel harmless.
“The melon ball, cream cheese appetizer is good. It’s probably one of the best things I’ve eaten all year.”
“That seems like high praise,” Nick said, his voice low also.
“It’s pretty steeply priced,” I said.
He studied my face, and for a moment, I thought I just lost the client, but a smile broke out on his face. “You’ve got the job.”