Page 71 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Seven

She propped her chin in her palm and stared at him with fascination. “What a fabulous type of childhood. You found your true north so early.”

“Exactly.” He loved how she didn’t pity him for not having a traditional mom who baked cupcakes and had a warm dinner on the table at six every night. It always bristled when people wanted to sympathize over a gift. “I’ve been doing it for years now and I never wanted to do anything else. It was good to start with being a bus boy and learning all the less glamorous jobs. I think you need to experience each one to be a good leader.”

“Agreed. So, you’re living your best life? Working at a restaurant you love. Living in a great city. Do you feel like you have it all?”

The question threw him off guard. His normal instinct was to give her a resounding yes. But inside, deep where he rarely explored, was an emptiness. He always believed it belonged to loss, from the woman he loved. A relationship that had broken his heart, so he never wanted to deal with another one. He’d kept the others to a level he could control, but Jameson was beginning to wonder if by staying safe, he’d also sacrificed the best parts. He decided to offer a safe remark. “I’m definitely happy.”

Devon squinted those magnificent eyes. Her gaze delved into his, and immediately, the air between them charged. It was as if she knew about his omission, and was choosing not to ask. He had a sudden instinct being involved with Devon would demand more of him. Usually, that would urge him to walk away.

But right now, he didn’t want to.

“What about your own restaurant? Do you ever think about it?”

He nodded. “I do. It’s something I think about now and then, but I’ve been satisfied with where I am.”

“Are you truly satisfied? Or complacent?”

He jerked back at the piercing question. “A big word for a big concept.”

Her expression softened as she smiled. “That wasn’t a jab. I was just thinking about what you told me when you wanted to change Vintage. You mentioned Mac had gotten complacent.”

Oh, yeah. This woman would definitely be a challenge. “Ouch. You’re right. But I think we can reach levels where it’s okay to stay the course if things are good. If everyone is happy.”

A wicked mischief danced over her features. “Like keeping the pancakes?”

Jameson laughed and shook his head. “That was mean.”

She laughed with him. “Sorry. I mean, maybe you’re right. But what if you haven’t pursued the idea of your own business because it’s so much easier not to? Which has nothing to do with notwantingto. Change is hard. It can emit failure. Regret.”

He pondered her words. Was she right? How often had he looked at vacant storefronts and imagined himself creating his own restaurant? Dreamed of the menu and atmosphere and the vibe? The want had definitely been there. He just hadn’t prodded the thoughts into action because—

He was complacent.

A lightbulb exploded in his head. He’d need to sit with the realization for a while and see what he wanted to do with it. Jameson leaned in, caught up in her mind and her gaze and wanting to be closer. “You may be right. What about you? Any regrets?”

She gave a delicate shrug. “Don’t we all? Every path we don’t take can be a regret. I try not to steep myself in that type of negativity. I tell myself I did the best I could at the time, and give myself grace. We’re way too hard on ourselves, don’t you think?”

Her words gave him pause. He hadn’t expected that from her. She had so many different layers hiding under the surfacebeauty. “I think that concept is extremely underrated and under used. I think if we did that more often, we’d take a hell of a lot more risks.”

Silence fell. It was full of want, of possibilities, of a gentle peace and simmering excitement he’d never experienced. At this very moment, he felt poised on the precipice of something special.

Her voice rose to his ears in a lilting caress. “I didn’t expect this.”

“Me either.”

“I didn’t really like you.”

“Me either.”

Her lower lip twitched in humor. She lifted her glass and drank the last ruby red drops of wine. “It’s getting late. I really need to go.”

“Coffee? Dessert?”

Devon shook her head. “I have a lot to do tomorrow for the Fur Gala. I’d like to decorate early Saturday morning before customers come in.”

“That’s not a problem. I’ll be here to help you.”

Her brow arched. “Thought you weren’t going to offer any assistance, remember?”

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