ALICIA
Having worked back-to-back evening shifts all week at the resort, I’m trying to enjoy a lie-in when squealing from downstairs rudely awakens me.
I throw on a robe and pad downstairs to find Jackie in the hallway holding a dozen red roses.
“Oh, you’ve got a secret admirer,” I tease with a raised brow, stepping closer to my sister so I can smell the flowers.
“No, you’re the one with the secret admirer,” Jackie says with a grin as she hands the flowers over.
“I … What? … Was there a note?” I can’t think of anyone who’d want to send me a dozen red roses.
“There was, but it didn’t say who it was from. Just that they can’t wait to sample your many talents again. You got a secret boyfriend, ‘Alicia?”
I feel heat blaze through my body, and I cover my face with the roses in the hope Jackie won’t see, but it’s too late --
“Oh my god, you’re blushing. You do have a secret boyfriend. Who is it? No, let me guess … Oh, is it the hot chef you work with?”
A little too close to home.
I scurry into the kitchen, dump the roses in the sink and then hurry back upstairs before Jackie can bombard me with any more questions.
I lock my bedroom door and lean against it, my heart pounding.
Ryan Braddock sent me roses? What the hell? How am I going to face him at work now, and what does this even mean? Surely it doesn’t mean he’s interested in me … the night of the wedding when we slept together was a one off, brought on by heightened emotions. Nothing more.
I don’t even like him!
That’s a lie, a voice in the back of my head insists.
As the flattery and confusion fade away, a new emotion takes its place -- anger! How dare he send flowers to my home and reference our night together. What the hell is he playing at? Especially after practically dismissing me the other day when we were discussing an expansion for the resort.
I don’t know what screwed up mind games Ryan is trying to play, but I won’t put up with it.
My resolve steeled, I head through to my ensuite to shower, and get ready for work, before making my way downstairs to grab some leftovers for brunch.
Jackie is in the kitchen when I enter, wearing a cat that got the canary grin. Behind her on the countertop, the roses have been put in a vase.
“Get rid of those things,” I snap, pulling leftover crab ravioli out of the fridge and sticking it in the microwave to heat up.
Jackie’s eyes widen for a moment, and then she quickly throws the roses in the trash. With a softer expression on her face, she crosses the kitchen to me and says, “You know, I was only kidding about the secret boyfriend, right? I know you’re not like that. I’m sorry if I upset you or something.”
“It’s fine. I’m overreacting. I just--” How do I even begin to explain this to her?
“What?” my sister prompts.
“It’s nothing.” I shake my head and busy myself plating up the ravioli, but no matter how delicious it is, I can’t eat. I suddenly feel sick to my stomach and know I won’t be able to relax until I’ve had it out with Ryan.
“I’m heading to work,” I say, standing up from the table.
“But you haven’t even eaten yet, and aren’t you on the late shift again?” When I don’t answer, Jackie chases after me. “‘Alicia, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”
“It’s nothing,” I insist again, flying out of the door before she can stop me.
My heart is still pounding when I get to work, but I don’t let that stop me from marching straight up to Ryan’s office.
I hammer on the door, and then without waiting for him to answer, I storm in.
“What the hell were you thinking sending me flowers?” I demand.
Ryan’s eyes widen and he turns off his computer, giving me his full attention.
“Usually, when a man sends a woman a gift, she’s supposed to say, ‘thank you,’” he says with a smirk and a raised brow.
“You’re crazy! I don’t understand you at all. First, you’re siding with clients over me, then you’re practically ripping my clothes off--”
“As I remember it, the clothes ripping was mutual. Or have you forgotten about sending my shirt buttons popping off all over the banquet hall?!”
“Of course, I haven’t forgotten.” What I don’t tell him is that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it or wishing it would happen again.
“And I also haven’t forgotten that we were almost caught, and now you’re sending flowers to my house.
You know my sister Jackie actually thought they were from Antony? ”
At this, Ryan snorts.
“What?” I demand, my eyes narrowing. “Am I not good enough for your brother or something? Only good for being Ryan Braddock’s dirty little secret, is that it?”
Ryan’s eyes widen and he stands up from his seat. “What? No! Is that really what you think?”
I huff out a breath and rake my hands through my long, red hair. “I don’t know what to think … You keep blowing hot and cold, and what was all that about when we discussed the resort expansion? I thought you respected me enough not to dismiss me like you did.”
“I didn’t dismiss you. You dismissed me!” Ryan says, his eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. “I wanted to ask if you’d be interested in managing the new restaurant, but you told me to discuss it with my brother, like you didn’t care.”
Now it’s my turn to be stunned. Ryan wants me to manage the new restaurant? That’s huge. But then, why is he sending me roses instead of just arranging an official meeting?
“So what? You thought sending roses was the right way to make a business proposition?”
Ryan huffs out a breath, and I swear he mutters ‘Stupid Tucker and his stupid advice.’
That makes me pause. Has Ryan been talking to his youngest brother about me and him? And if so, this goes way beyond a business proposition.
Ryan starts pacing, and as he does, words come tumbling out of his mouth.
“God, I’ve messed this all up, haven’t I?
I didn’t mean to offend you, Alicia. I was just so confused after our last meeting.
I want you, and not just for the new restaurant.
I … God, why is this so difficult?” He pauses, looks me dead in the eyes and then says, “I want to ask you to have dinner with me. That’s why I sent the roses. Tucker said women like to be spoiled.”
DAMN! And there’s the heat flaring through my body again!
Ryan Braddock actually wants to date me? But … where does that leave me in terms of managing the new restaurant? If I accept, and people find out we’re together, they’re going to assume he promoted me because we’re romantically involved.
“I can’t have dinner with you, Ryan. Not if you want me to manage the new restaurant. It’s a conflict of interests,” I say finally, feeling like a kid who’s had all their presents snatched away on Christmas morning.
Ryan’s gaze remains fierce. “Then we don’t tell anyone we’re together. Let them find out later, when the dust settles from the new restaurant. But I want to be with you Alicia.”
My heart pounds. I hadn’t realized how badly I wanted to be with Ryan too until he’d said it, but we can’t. My career must come first and getting involved with your boss could be professional suicide. What if we break up and Ryan decides to fire me in retaliation? I can’t risk it.
Pushing down my feelings, I shake my head and say, “I’m sorry Ryan, but I’m just not into you. We had fun the night of the wedding, but I’m not interested in a relationship.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re scared,” Ryan insists, reaching out to grab my arm, but I know if he touches me, I’ll come undone. So, I shrug out of his grasp and leave the office before he can say anything else.
As I walk away, I hope I haven’t just made the biggest mistake of my life.
Over the next few days, I try to avoid Ryan at all costs, which actually isn’t that hard when I’m juggling work and battling the stomach virus from hell. I swear, if there’s something dodgy in those detox teas Jackie sold me…
About a week after mine and Ryan’s last run-in, I’m on dinner service again when the Wall Street guy from a few weeks ago shows up and specifically asks to see me.
I step out into the restaurant to find him enjoying a plate of lobster tortellini and a bottle of our finest oak-aged chardonnay.
“Ah, Alicia, so good to see you again. I hope I’m not disturbing you at a busy moment, am I?”
Yes! It’s the middle of dinner service, I need to be in the kitchen. But I know saying that would be rude, and I must admit, I’m curious as to why the guy wants to speak to me.
“I can spare a few minutes for a valued customer,” I say graciously.
“Thank you. Please, take a seat. There’s something I wish to discuss.”
I sit down opposite, and the man extends his hand to me. “Allow me to formally introduce myself. I’m Alistair Connolly--”
It’s impossible to live so close to New York City and not to have heard of Alistair Connolly, and the only reason I haven’t connected to dots sooner is because the business mogul is notoriously reclusive, and his public appearances are few and far between.
“I see you’ve heard of me then?” Alistair replies with a chuckle.
“Who on this side of the Hudson River hasn’t heard of you?” I say with an easy smile.
Despite his reclusive nature, Alistair is often making headlines for his continued success on the stock exchange.
Alistair’s eyes dance with mischief. “Well, if you’ve heard of me, you’ll know I have a lot of money, and not enough places to invest it in.
I’ve been racking my brains for months to come up with a new venture to invest in, and then I heard about John Jones’ wedding.
Everyone was talking about the exquisite food, so of course, I had to come check it out for myself.
And after the little mishap with the first filet mignon, I came to see for myself your talents as a chef have been greatly understated. ”
I laugh off the compliment. It’s flattering, and I know I’m a good chef, but hearing it from someone like Alistair Connolly makes me feel a little dizzy.
All I’m able to say in response is “I hope today’s lobster tortellini hasn’t changed your opinion of my skills.”
Alistair chuckles again, and I can’t help but feel charmed by him. Something about his easy, relaxed manner catches me off guard. Usually, the stupidly rich are either arrogant or idiotic. Alistair seems neither of those things.
“On the contrary, it’s confirmed for me what I’m about to propose is the right choice. Alicia, I’d like you to come work for me in Manhattan. I want to get in on the restaurant game, and I can think of no one better to be my head chef. What do you think?”
What do I think? I think holy shit, this is huge.
Life changingly huge. Being head chef in a restaurant in Manhattan has always been my dream, and the future I could provide for my siblings on that type of salary is something I’ve only dared think about in a far-off way.
But, moving to Manhattan would mean uprooting my whole family, and forcing my younger siblings to change schools.
“I’ll have to think about it, Sir. If that’s okay?”
“Please, there’s no need to be so formal,” Alistair says, reaching into his pocket to retrieve a business card. He slips it across the table to me. “And please, take all the time you need to think over my offer. I understand it’s a massive change.”
“Thank you. I will. And please, enjoy the rest of your meal.”
“I’m sure it will be splendid.” Alistair raises his glass to me, and I stand from the table, slipping the business card into my pants pocket.
When I turn to head back to the kitchen, I can feel a gaze burning into my back, and glance around to see Ryan staring daggers at me.