Page 3 of Beachside Kisses With My Enemy

Part of me wishes I’d had a chance to clear the air with her a few weeks ago. The other part is kind of glad she hates me.

“It doesn’t have to be quite this upscale, per se.” Dale’s voice breaks into my thoughts, and I blink to refocus and remember what we were talking about. “But we also don’t want to run a fast-food joint that feels accessible to just anyone.” He says “fast-food joint” like it’s a dirty word as he scoops a heap of mashed potatoes onto his plate. “We want gourmet, dressed-up food. Like your mama made it, but put a tuxedo on it, you get me?”

I get what he’s saying, yes. But it’s not what I pictured for my restaurant. Still, all businesses have to compromise a bit, right? And I don’t have a lot of other contacts begging to invest. I’ve got a small nest egg tucked away, but Dale’s my best shot at getting the right location and exposure for success.

And if there’s anything I know, it’s that this restaurant has to be successful.

“I can work with that.” I sit back in my seat. “What did you think about the recipes I submitted? Will they work?”

“Yes, absolutely. But I want more.”

“More?” I blink.

“More.” Dale shovels in a bite of potatoes and studies me. After swallowing, he continues. “I know you pictured a limited menu of four or five sandwiches, and while that might work for a food truck, it won’t work for a real restaurant like the one I’m picturing. While there’s merit to doing something and doing it well, I just don’t think that’s the brand we want for you or this place.”

Though I understand it, branding was always the thing I hated talking about in grad school. Honestly, most of grad school wasn’t my cup of tea. But I knew that to find the sort of success Dad always wanted for me, I needed to understand the ins and outs of business.

Even branding.

Too bad I can’t just be myself. That’s never been enough, though, so not sure why I’d think things would change now. “And what brand is that?” I ask as I take another bite of my steak.

He studies me again, and I start to squirm under his assessment. Finally, he speaks. “You’ve got the potential to go the distance here, Blake. To not only create a dining experience that will be scalable and unique, but to have wealth and fame like you never dreamed of. I know you’re all about the cooking—and I know you’ve missed it since coming to work for me as manager—but you could be so much more. We’re talking Michelin stars. We’re talking franchises. We’re talking brand endorsement deals.” Dale taps his plate with his fork. “We’re talking celebrity chef status. I’ve got a buddy at a local TV network, and they’ve been looking for the next best thing. I want to put you on his radar.”

My head is spinning. Dale’s vision for me is so much larger than the one I have for myself. But it’s still fully in line with my goals. Even Dad—if he were here—wouldn’t be able to laugh at my chosen career as too “unstable” if I was a celebrity chef, now could he?

But wow. It’s still a lot. I grab up my glass of water and chug half of it down. What Dale is saying…it sounds too good to be true. But it still will require more of me. More recipes. More creativity.

I don’t want to throw away this opportunity, but I also don’t want to lie to my mentor. “I love where you’re going with this, and I understand the vision. I want to get you more recipes. But I’m just not sure how I’m supposed to find adequate time or energy to do that, and at the same time, continue to run a top-notch restaurant for you here.”

Dale steeples his fingers, nods. “Do you think you could train a replacement manager over the next month?”

“What? Why?”

“Just as you said. You don’t have the space for it. So, make the space for it.”

I blink at him. The man’s gone mad. Is he really telling me to quit my job? “I wouldn’t even know what that looked like.” What would I even do? Just sit around my kitchen in the cramped apartment I share with three other dudes and “dream up” recipes? I don’t think so.

“How did you go about creating the original recipes in your proposal?”

“Trial and error, mostly. When I opened the food truck, I started with a basic grilled cheese.” Just like my mom taught me, back when I was in elementary school and cooking became the thing we did together. My escape from the world, from the pressures Dad put on my grades and the sports he wanted me to play, all ways to ensure I made a different sort of escape—one from Hallmark Beach someday.

An escape he never made, to his everlasting regret.

“And how did you expand from there?” Dale asks.

“Customers would ask for variations and tweaks to the original, and that sparked my creativity, I guess. Allowed me to let loose in the kitchen.”

“That’s what you need to do, then. First, train a replacement—my nephew has been looking for a job, so this is a great opportunity. Then, reopen the food truck. Take the summer and give yourself room to create, room to dream again.”

Room to dream…what would that be like? “To what end?”

“So by the end of summer, you’re ready to start hiring staff and get things under way with the restaurant. I’ve already got the perfect location in mind. Checked with my realtor, and the lease will be available come August. We can take over and launch by the new year—maybe even sooner, depending.”

Whoa. This is exactly what I’ve wanted for years, but after thousands of moments of no movement, time is moving at a rapid-fire pace. “Um, I?—”

“Blake.” Dale locks me in with his gaze once more, his eyes cutting me with their intensity. “I can tell you’re freaking out a bit. Don’t even try to protest it. I know you.” Then his expression softens a bit. “This is what we’ve been working toward. It’s why I took you from the kitchen in the first place and made you manager. You needed to know everything there was to know about running a restaurant—for this moment in time. I see greatness in you, but you’ve got to see it in yourself too.”

“Thank you.” My mouth is dry, but my water cup is empty now. I’d snap at Beth like Dale did, but what for him is simple efficiency and command would feel like rudeness from me. “I am really grateful for this opportunity. I don’t want to mess it up.”

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