Page 65 of Too Busy for Love

‘Sorry,’ she says. ‘We need a name. If we’re going to get a return on our investment, we need the punters lining up from day one. We simply don’t have time to wait for your guy to establish a reputation from nothing. It’s a done deal, Beatrice. If you can’t work with it, tell me now and walk away.’

I sit in silence for a moment. I do want The Mermaid more than I could have imagined, but Reginald’s words are playing in my mind. If I accept this condition, I’m basically kissing goodbye to any chance of a future with Jock. I need to see if I can get her to come round. After all, if Christopher isn’t in the driving seat, he shouldn’t get to choose the chef, should he?

‘Did you have someone specific in mind?’ I ask.

‘Yes. Emilio Marcuso. Do you know him?’

‘I know of him, yes. But he’s got restaurants all over the country, hasn’t he? How much time will he actually spend in the kitchen of The Mermaid? If you’re going to sell a celebrity chef, the customers need to see him, otherwise they’ll think it’s just a cynical marketing ploy.’

‘They don’t seem to feel like that in his other restaurants. From what I can tell, they’re all extremely successful. Why shouldn’t that translate here?’

‘Because… because that’s not the Margate vibe, Abby! This place is all about authenticity.’

‘There are chain restaurants here. I saw several on the sea front.’

‘Yes, but?—’

‘But nothing. What’s your guy’s name?’

‘Andrew. Andrew McLaughlin.’

‘Right. Surely you can see that “Marcuso at The Mermaid” is going to be a much bigger draw than “Some guy called McLaughlin that you’ve never heard of at The Mermaid”. Emilio puts us on the map from day one, Beatrice. If we’re going to have a hope in hell of this project succeeding, we need that. This isn’t open for negotiation.’

I sigh. I still think she’s wrong, but it is her business and I need to decide if this is a hill I’m going to die on. I try to weigh up the options rationally. If I take her up, then I have a guaranteed job back in the hotel industry. No more fixed-term contracts, and maybe I can use the fact that she’s overruled me on the chef as leverage to get my way in other areas. But I lose Jock. On the other hand, I could turn her down but, not only does that feel like biting the hand that’s trying to feed me from a career perspective, I still might lose Jock. If I were in a cartoon, I’d have a mini Reginald on one shoulder urging me to live welland love wholeheartedly because the rest is just white noise. On the other would be rational Beatrice, telling me that I’ve invested too much in my career so far to let a man, even a man like Jock, derail me.

‘I don’t get it.’ My thoughts are interrupted by Abby. ‘This is a tiny adjustment to an otherwise brilliant plan. Are you seriously telling me you’re prepared to throw the whole thing in the bin over it? You’re the one who dragged me over and sold me the whole idea of reopening as a hotel. It was your blinder of a pitch to my father that convinced him it was viable. I’m offering you what you want on a plate and now you don’t want it any more? What the actual, Beatrice?’

And, with that, I know what I have to do.

‘You’re right,’ I tell her as mini Reginald disappears in a puff of smoke and I kiss goodbye to any hope of reconciliation with Jock. ‘I’m going to stick my neck out and say I still think Emilio isn’t the right choice for Margate, but it’s a comparatively small change to the plan and I’m sure he knows how to make these things work. So yes. I’m in.’

‘Thank the Lord for that,’ she breathes. ‘The whole project would have been dead in the water without you. Right. Next steps. We need to get Emilio on board.’

‘You mean you haven’tspokento him?’ I ask, appalled. ‘You gave me the impression it was done and dusted.’

‘Of course I haven’t spoken to him. There wouldn’t have been anything to talk about without you, and Dad and I only agreed to go ahead yesterday afternoon. I’m good, but not that good.’

She pulls her phone out of her bag and dials a number. ‘Hi, Donna. It’s me. Beatrice is on board, so can you see if you can get us a meeting with Emilio Marcuso? Yes, as soon as possible please. Thanks.’

She’s smiling as she puts her phone away. ‘It can’t be as simple as that,’ I tell her. ‘“Hi, Emilio. I know you’re a celebritychef and everything, but we’re opening a boutique hotel in Margate and wondered if you’d drop everything to have a chat with us about it.”’ I’m allowing myself to hope again. If Emilio says no, maybe I can get Jock on board after all.

She shrugs. ‘He’s a businessman. It’s a business proposition. Besides…’ She smiles enigmatically.

‘What?’

‘He’s a member of the same golf club as my dad. They often play together and Dad has his personal mobile number. We didn’t just choose him at random, you know.’

I don’t know whether to be impressed or dismayed. Choosing a chef based on shared membership of a golf club is hardly good business practice, but I can’t deny Emilio Marcuso’s reputation. Barely a minute has passed before her phone rings.

‘Hi, Donna.’

There’s some unintelligible speech before she says, ‘Tomorrow? Blimey, that’s even quicker than I’d expected. Let me just check with Beatrice.’ She puts her hand over her phone and turns to me. ‘Emilio can see us at four o’clock tomorrow. He’s at Marcuso’s on the Strand in London and can spare us an hour between lunchtime and evening service. Will you be ready by then?’

‘Ready for what?’

‘You need to pitch it to him.’

‘What?’

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