Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
B randon had never been excited to go to work, but these days, without Cora around, he had no desire to go at all. The more time he spent in the kitchen at Giovanni’s, the more he resented being in a kitchen. He wanted to be at home, writing. He wanted to get the words on paper.
Writing had always been his escape, yet now, since everything with Julian and Cora leaving for Blueberry Bay, he needed to write more than ever. He didn’t want to sit around waiting for things to happen, because the truth blasted him in the face when he said it to Julian. He would never change things unless he didn’t change them.
All the feelings and emotions he had felt for Cora came pouring out through his character. Whenever he had time to spare, he’d open up his personal laptop and start typing. He had to get it out these days. Ever since his lunch with Father Michael, his writing seemed clear. He knew where he wanted to take his character. The story became believable because he lived it.
Luckily, the afternoon had been slow at work, so he was able to write. He might not have even noticed Madame Dubois walking into the restaurant until Mia had said something.
“Isn’t that the woman Cora worked for?” Mia had walked up to him at the counter of the bar where he worked on his computer.
Brandon looked across the dining room and saw the fake blond hair right away. “What is she doing here?”
“Eating.” Mia shrugged. “They want a bottle of merlot.”
He didn’t waste any time grabbing the merlot and three wine glasses, wiping them clean of any fingerprints. He grabbed a crisp white linen cloth for his arm.
“Madame Dubois,” he greeted her, he nodded at the older woman and younger man sitting with her.
“Do I know you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.
“I’m a friend of Cora,” he said.
Her nose pinched like she smelled something rotten, and she looked Brandon over. “Really?”
“I saw your new collection,” Brandon said as he pulled the cork. He poured just enough wine for a sip, swirled it around, and passed it to Madame Dubois. “You had such stunning designs.”
Madame Dubois started eating this up as she sipped the wine. “This is exquisite.”
“You have great taste,” Brandon said, pouring a full glass for her first, then moved around the table and filled the others.
“I just hate that Julian Abbott’s actions resulted in Cora Smith losing her internship,” Julian said.
Madame’s face twisted at Cora’s name. “Yes, well, she certainly didn’t help the situation.”
Brandon furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t understand.”
Madame Dubois fixed her hair with her free hand. “I don’t need a young girl stepping into my studio and throwing a fit.”
Brandon’s heart jumped into fight mode, and before he could stop himself, he said, “You mean after you stole her designs.”
He knew those designs. He had seen her sketch them out at the restaurant when she’d taken her breaks. She’d sit on the crate doodling in her notebook, talking about the different ways she’d create handmade stamps for her designs. He heard their origin story and about their symbolism. He knew it all.
“Excuse me?” Her hand went to her chest, and her eyes narrowed at Brandon. “I think we should find another establishment that deserves my business.”
Brandon didn’t care if she left. “You had a really talented designer in Cora.”
“We’re going,” she said, as he stood there. “Tell your manager I’ll be calling about this.”
“You’re talking to him.” Brandon smiled as he squeezed the neck of the bottle. “Don’t worry. The merlot’s on me.”
She scooted out of her chair and marched right out of the restaurant. He turned to her minions and said, “Be careful, or she might steal your designs, too.”
When he came back to the kitchen, his boss, Anthony, sat at his desk in the kitchen.
“Anthony,” Brandon said. He noticed the time. Anthony never showed up this early in the morning. Had Madame gone nuts and called the owner of Giovanni’s? “What’s up?”
“I came to talk to you.” Anthony stood from the chair. “Mind if we speak in private?”
Brandon shook his head, now worried something was wrong. “Is there a problem?”
Anthony laughed. “Quite the opposite. I’m here to offer you a promotion.”
“A promotion?” Brandon wasn’t sure if he heard Anthony right.
“Let’s talk.” Anthony clapped his hand on Brandon’s back and walked him to the back of the restaurant where his private office sat. When he closed the door behind him, he turned to Brandon. “I’m about to buy some properties up North and want to expand Giovanni’s to another location, but I want someone I trust who could run the place. That’s where I want you to fit in. I want you to run the new restaurant.”
“You want me to run a new restaurant?” Brandon couldn’t believe it.
“You’ll be the general manager,” Anthony said.
“Where?” Brandon hadn’t thought about leaving the city before.
“Up in Newburyport,” Anthony said. “Right on the water. Great location. Big pay raise.”
Brandon hesitated but didn’t know why. This could be the opportunity he had been waiting for. He could make a lot of money by becoming the general manager of one of Anthony’s restaurants.
“Thank you so much for thinking of me,” Brandon said to Anthony as he considered his response. “When do you need an answer?”
“Take your time, but not too long.” Anthony leaned against his desk, crossing his arms against his chest. I’d like my GM to be there from the beginning. I want to move fast on this. We’ll need to hire staff. Get things moving so we can open.”
Brandon thought about his unfinished novel. If he took this position, when would he be able to write? Then he thought about his mom.
“If I say yes, can I take a vacation before I start?” Brandon asked.
“Tell me when you want to go, and I’ll give you the time,” Anthony said.
When Brandon left work that night, he didn’t give Anthony an answer. Maybe a new start in a new restaurant would give him a new direction. He had done this writing thing long enough. Was he really going to get anywhere with it? But as he walked home, he stopped at the harbor as the sun set behind the city of Boston. He wanted a sign, something to give him direction.
He sat down on his favorite bench and looked out at the water just as a message popped up on his phone.
Ten days sober. He didn’t recognize the number but knew it was Julian. He responded right away.
That’s great. Proud of you. And as cheesy as it felt to write it, he was proud of Julian. It’s only easier from here.
And that was the truth. The first few days were the hardest, but if he could make it through the first week, he had a good chance of making it longer.
Remember how I know someone in publishing…Well, his name is Marcus Mulligan. Know him?
Brandon knew exactly who Marcus Mulligan was. A local hero from Southie, he had worked at the Globe for years before writing his own novels.
Brandon’s phone buzzed with information about Marcus Mulligan. Then, Julian sent another text with his name and Marcus’s number.
Brandon’s heart stopped in panic as he read the next text and noticed Marcus Mulligan’s number added to the text.
Just finished a friend’s manuscript that you’re going to want to get your hands on.
Then another text flashed on Brandon’s screen from the other number.
Send it to me. Marcus Mulligan wrote back.
Julian then texted one last message to Brandon, without Marcus on it. Guess you’re going to have to finish that book.
When Brandon got home, he looked up Blueberry Bay. Immediately, images of the shores of the Atlantic Ocean popped up on the screen. It was a small New England village with gray clapboard buildings resting along a harbor. It even had a white steeple high above the buildings and a red-and-white lighthouse in the middle of the bay on an island. It couldn’t have been any more picture-perfect if Thomas Kinkade had painted it.
He opened his messages and texted Anthony. I need a vacation before I can accept the position.
Anthony texted right back. How does tomorrow sound?