Page 46 of Executive Benefits

“Like by name and everything?” I asked, not bothering to hide my shock. Most customers didn't know the names of the owners of restaurants, let alone the chef.

“Yes,” she said and held the door open for me.

I grabbed a hand towel and wiped my hands, walking into the dining room. I threw the towel over my shoulder as Phoebe whispered, “Don’t be weird!”

I didn’t look back at her to give her the dirty look I wanted to, but I already knew she knew what my face looked like.

“Hello,” I said, walking up to the table, offering the man my hand.

“Hello, Nick. It’s very nice to meet you. I am Jack Ricky,” he started.

The food critic.

“Oh,” I balked. “I was told you were coming here on the twelfth of February.”

Jack pointed to the chair across from him. He pulled out his phone and looked at it while scrolling. “No, sir. I received an email earlier this week asking me to come today. I made a special trip out for it.” He looked at the phone again and gave a nod. “Yes, from Ms. Julia Day,” he said.

He didn’t show me his phone for me to see the email, but really, it didn’t matter. I don’t know why Julia would've done that. “Maybe she meant for you to come on both days to taste the difference?” I suggested, but he shook his head.

“The difference of what?” Jack asked, tucking his phone back into his coat pocket.

“This concept, as it stands right now, is changing within the next two months. We’re rebranding. We’re getting a new menu, a new everything, pretty much,” I said as I attempted to dig myself out of the confusion. “Ms. Day explained that you were going to be coming on February twelfth for the soft opening. There must have been some kind of mistake.” I said the thought out loud, but I wasn’t talking to Jack, not really.

Jack looked at his notes. “That would be interesting. What is your new concept?” he asked. He perched his pen over his notepad and seemed genuinely interested.

“It’s going to be an elevated casual restaurant. Think family-style Italian.”

“That does sound promising. As it stands right now…” he said. Jack’s eyes ran over his notes, and I could kill Phoebe for not noticing he was writing things down. “The food is delicious and the ambiance is nice, but the prices are a bit steep.” I couldn’t roll my eyes because he was looking at me, but I wanted to.

That was the same thing Julia said to me, and it only reinforced everything I already knew.

I didn't know what the fuck was wrong with me. Letting Kendra run shit seemed to ruin everything in my life. I shook my head to continue listening to Jack.

“I must be honest. The restaurant review, as it stands with the cost, the ambience, and the location atmosphere, none of it fits together,” he said. He placed his glasses on the rim of his nose. “I’m sorry. I won’t be able to come back on February twelfth. I'm a busy man. I can't entertain every invitation. Most restaurants only see me once." He pushed his chair back.

“The paper I’m sending it to will pay for the meal, so you don’t have to worry about eating the cost,” he said, chuckling at his joke. He handed me his card. “Your staff was lovely. And I did want to think higher of the restaurant,” he said.

I nodded absentmindedly as he continued to say other things I couldn’t pay attention to. I tapped his card on my palm and gave him a wan smile. “I’ll run this for you and get back to you soon.”

My brain didn’t know what direction to go in. There were too many things swimming in it, from the mistaken date to what the critic said.

Had I just let myself get too wrapped up in Julia personally that I didn’t see her shortcomings? Was she not as good at her job as I thought she was? Or was I just reading too much into this?

I couldn’t imagine that she would purposefully try to sabotage the restaurant.

But a flash of anger sliced through my thoughts when my mind rested on it. What if she was more like Kendra than I thought?

22

JULIA

Istood outside the courthouse in downtown Buffalo. The wind whipped around me and I looked at my phone. “Eleven thirty,” I muttered. I wasn’t waiting for Jared outside any longer. I tugged my coat closer to me and burrowed down as far as I could get without coming out the other side.

It didn’t do much to protect me from the wind as it slithered its way down my collar, inviting goosebumps to my already uncomfortable state.

I grumbled, turned, and walked up the stairs.

When I walked through the door, I handed the security guard my briefcase and combed out my hair with my fingers, readjusting my coat.

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