Page 1 of 40 and (Tired of) Faking It
Chapter One
“What the fu—uh—freakare you listening to, JD?”
John David Lane laughed at his friend’s fumble for words. Lincoln Young had no problem giving his friends shit, but if he was at his restaurant and there were women present, certain words weren’t leaving his mouth. And since he spent most of his life at the restaurant, it stood to reason that was where he’d called from.
“Nice save,” JD said, thumbing the volume on the radio down and the call on his Bluetooth up. “And what do you mean, ‘what are you listening to’? U2 is classic.” It wasn’t Linc’s favored Def Leopard or AC/DC, but JD preferred to avoid aggravating the headache already banging around inside his skull.
“According to that train of thought, so are we,” Linc grumbled.
“And you’ll always be more classic than me; don’t forget that,” JD reminded him.
The staccato sound of a knife hitting a cutting board filtered through the car speakers. Definitely at the restaurant, then. Linc was the executive chef at a restaurant with three Michelin stars, which was why he’d be taking the lead on food when their new resort was up and running. “I’m a year older, but thanks for rubbing it in my face constantly.” Linc’s muttered “asshole” was just loud enough for JD to hear.
“A year older and a shit-ton grumpier. That’s what happens when you hit middle age.”
Linc’s snarl rumbled through the car. “Keep it up and I’ll come down there on the next available flight and use this knife on you instead of this bok choy.”
JD didn’t bother holding back his laughter at his friend’s expense. When he topped the next hill, that laughter choked off
Black Wolf’s Bluff – 1 mile ahead.
Almost there.
As if he somehow sensed the tension rising in JD’s gut, Linc asked, “How much farther?”
JD took his foot off the gas, slowing as he steered the car onto the exit ramp. “About five minutes from the city limits,” he finally answered. “I’m just pulling off the interstate now.”
“See anything we can use?”
He surveyed the area as he brought the car to a stop at the intersection at the end of the ramp. When the new resort was complete, most of their guests would be coming off the interstate at this exit, whether they arrived here from Asheville, North Carolina, Chattanooga, or Nashville, Tennessee. There were only so many major roads through the Smoky Mountains. And amenities along the way were as few and far between as the interstates.
Unfortunately Black Wolf’s Bluff had been short on amenities when JD grew up here, and it didn’t look like that had changed. “I see a McDonald’s and a gas station.”
The same McDonald’s and gas station, in fact, that he’d stopped at the morning he left this “one-horse town,” filling up his belly and his car on the way to Columbia Business School thirty years ago. His acceptance letter had been the first time his grandparents, who’d raised him, had ever shown pleasure at one of his accomplishments. That moment of pride hadn’t extended to helping him get settled at the university. At eighteen, he’d driven himself to New York alone. Settled in alone. Built his life alone.
Well, not completely alone. He had his friends, the men who had become like brothers to him. He’d made a family for himself as much as he’d built a successful life for himself. New York was his home now. He’d never expected to return to the town that belonged to the family that hated him.
“Don’t think our clientele are going to consider McDonald’s an amenity.”
“Some people aren’t as much of a food snob as you are.” Though Linc had every right to be a food snob given his vocation. JD, on the other hand, wasn’t blessed with Linc’s skills in the kitchen. His friend’s snort of derision accompanied him as he crossed the road and pulled into the drive-through. Cuisine snobbery notwithstanding, he wasn’t planning a trek into Black Wolf’s Bluff proper until tomorrow. He’d stopped at the lawyer’s office in Nashville for the keys to the family mansion, but food wouldn’t be available until he scouted out a grocery store.
McDonald’s it was.
He’d have thought the area surrounding his childhood home might have built up, that things might’ve changed at least a little bit, but he should’ve known better. Nothing changed around here—at least until now. Now he was back, andeverythingwould change. Whether the citizens of Black Wolf’s Bluff wanted them to or not. The resort JD and his friends planned to build would put Black Wolf’s Bluff on the map.
Excitement thrummed in his veins despite the fatigue of traveling all day. A new project always did that to him, but this one… They’d been planning a resort like this for a long time; they’d just needed the right property to do it. JD’s inheritance had given them the land. Now they could get the project off the ground—after he got permission from the planning commission to begin construction.
And he knew from past experience that planning commissions could be total dicks when it came to cooperation.
The sounds of chopping knives, dishes rattling, and Linc barking orders at his sous chefs—and his sneer at JD’s dinner selection—filled the car as JD ordered and picked up his food. He pulled onto the rural highway again, headed northeast toward Black Wolf’s Bluff. Through his speakers, the slam of a door told him Linc had retreated to his office. “I wish you had let me come with you,” Linc said in the sudden quiet. “Or Carter. One of us should be there, at least.”
JD couldn’t hold back a snort. “I’m fine.” He was; he wouldn’t admit otherwise, to himself or his best friend.
“You say that now, but if you’re notfine,both of us are too far away to be there quick.”
“Just get your bags ready. When I’ve got the planning commission eating out of my hand, you can swoop in and design your dream kitchen any way you like.” Black Wolf’s Bluff wouldn’t know what hit them when they got a taste of Linc’s cooking.
“Ifyou manage to get the planning commission eating out of your hand.”
