Page 13 of Made for You

Violet and I respond at the same time.

“No idea. Don’t really care.”

“A live band would besoromantic!”

Roman laughs. “Figuring how attached at the hip you two were, you’d think that you might be more similar.” He looks directly at me. “Maybe you used to be before…well…I need to check on some things.”

He walks off to wait on some of the tables and talk to the customers in the brewery.

I turn back to face the bar and flag down the bartender to place my order.

After I order, I realize that Violet has nothing in front of her, “She’ll have the same. And a hard cider.”

She looks at me. “And just how do you know I want that?”

“Because you always steal my food. And you love anything apple. So I took a gamble that those things are still true.”

A slow smile spreads across her face. “They are.”

I look down into my beer that was just delivered and give myself a little smile. Roman might have the looks, be a gym guy,andown a brewery, but I still know Violet better than anyone on this planet.

“So. What brings you back to Balsam Cliffs to stay?”

“Gran. The bakery. It was really just the catalyst I needed to take over my own life.” A sad frown settles on her face and I hate it.

“You didn’t have control of your own life?”

“Nope. That last summer I was here, Mom married the New York State Commissioner, Larry Archibault, and I was destined to never leave New York City after that. Mom enrolled me in the culinary school of her choice with the help of Larry’s connections to the dean, and I got an internship I was dreading at the restaurant of her choosing. And, honestly? I just want to be in a place like this.”

The bartender drops off our food and we both dig in.

“Mmm. See. This is amazing! I don’t need to be in New York City’s most exclusive restaurant to create delicious food for people!”

She takes another bite moaning again at the taste of her food.

I shift in my seat at her moans. “I’m sorry. I get the feeling. Of not having control over your life that is.”

If anyone understood that it was me. Stuck at the inn every single day, torn between loving the inn with a sense of family duty and wanting to explore the world.

“What do you—” She gets cut off by Roman coming back over to us.

He places his arm around her shoulders and leans in close to her, keeping his eyes on me, “Do you love it?”

I growl in response to him. He smirks at me, and I know he’s touching her on purpose.

“This is so good, Roman. I can’t believe you can cook like this!”

“Oh he can’t. Don’t give him any credit. Clark is the chef.” I smirk back. I’ll be damned if I let her think he has another good quality.

“Unfortunately, he’s right. I can’t take credit. I don’t know what I’m going to do when Clark retires. He’s been grumbling about it more and more and I’m just hoping he chooses not to.” He gives a half hearted laugh.

“I love this song!” Violet hops in her seat in excitement when the song changes almost as fast as the conversation.

“Dance with me?” Roman extends his hand to her.

Seeing his hand reach out to dance with her, it stirs a jealousy inside me that hasn't shown in a long time.

“No. She’s going to dance with me.” I stand up, scooping her around the waist and pulling her to the dance floor with me.

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