Page 55 of 40 and (No Longer) Fighting It
“I guess we need to come,” Lanelle said.
Claire followed her mother through the adjoining doorway to Wildwoods Brew. It seemed every table in the café was filled. This was apparently where all of Claire’s customers had adjourned too. And every head was turned toward the TV hanging in the corner of the room.
The TV that featured Lincoln Young front and center.
Pain shot through her chest. Putting her hand on the counter to steady herself, she dragged her eyes away from that handsome face. “What—”
“It’s Lincoln,” her mother interrupted, surprising Claire. Not because she recognized him; it was her tone that gave Claire pause. The last time the two had been in the same room, Lanelle had been eyeing Lincoln and his tats like he’d just risen from the depths of hell to seduce her daughter. Now there was a familiarity, an acceptance Claire didn’t understand.
Maria held up the remote and clicked the volume until every word became clear to the entire room.
“—for having me,” Lincoln was saying.
“Of course,” the dark-haired host said. Claire vaguely recognized him as one of the lead reporters on Nashville’s biggest morning show. “We’re grateful for the chance to discuss what seems to be a mammoth undertaking. Black Wolf Resort has certainly been in the news this past week.”
The suggestion in the man’s tone and his knowing side-eye had Claire bracing herself, her gut tightening. Lincoln heard it too, apparently; his eyes narrowed, becoming icy. “This is a very important development for the area. It’s also a bit of a dream project for my partner, JD Lane, and me.”
“Indeed.” The host crossed one leg over the other, angling himself toward Lincoln. “Let’s get right to it. There have been accusations—”
Lincoln held up a hand. “I’m not here to indulge in gossip, Rex. I’m here to discuss the biggest addition to what the Smoky Mountains has to offer in years.”
Rex let that pass, though Claire was sure he’d come back to the rumors eventually.
“The Tennessee mountains is a far cry from New York City. What made you consider the move?”
“It’s not a move, per se. I’ll be sharing my time between my restaurant in Manhattan, the Prime, and the resort.”
“As well as your many other pursuits, I’m sure—your position onCulinary Combatand the work you do with various charities to feed hungry children.”
“Absolutely. I’ll be pushing hard at Black Wolf Resort at first, of course—the restaurant will be aiming for a Michelin star in its first year, not to mention the additional bakery, brewery, and other amenities we plan to offer.”
A spark lit in Rex’s eyes. “The bakery will be run by Claire Taylor, yes?”
“Chef Taylor will be heading our bakery. I have several chefs in mind for the main restaurant, including one of my sous chefs currently at Prime. Our team at the Prime is excellent, and I can state without a doubt that what we’ll offer at Black Wolf will be equally high standards.”
“You’re damn right it will,” someone shouted from the opposite side of the coffee shop. Claire leaned over and caught a glimpse of Jesse, one of the town’s two garbagemen, glaring up at the TV. His partner, Ernesto, sat beside him. A grumpy grunt of agreement escaped into Ernesto’s raised coffee cup.
“And you’re certain Chef Taylor’s skills will meet that high bar given the rumors circulating this past weekend?”
Shit.The need to slink back into her office rose inside her, but Claire refused to give in. No matter how much she wanted to.
The room erupted in complaints at the question, a balm to Claire’s bristled soul, but it was the closed captioning scrolling along the bottom of the screen that she paid the most attention to. She couldn’t hear Lincoln’s words over the noise, but she could see his scowl and read his response.
“Are you questioning my ethics or my ability to discern talent, Rex?”
The other man stiffened.
“Let’s be real, here,” Lincoln continued. As the coffee shop quieted, his rich voice hit her ears again. “I don’t have to stand up for Chef Taylor’s work, nor anyone else I hire; their work should speak for itself, and hers does. However…” Lincoln adjusted in his seat. “When a friend is hurt by a misrepresentation that involves me, I don’t think they should have to fight that battle by themselves. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my time in Black Wolf’s Bluff, it’s that this is a tight-knit community who cares about each other.”
“Knows us pretty well, don’t he?” DeeDee asked beside her. Claire nodded, a lump in her throat.
“We take care of each other there. If you want to understand the depth of Chef Taylor’s skills, don’t take my word for it. Ask anyone in town. Or walk into her bakery, Gimme Sugar. You won’t find better pastry anywhere in the US.”
Rex’s brows arched. “Even in New York City.”
Lincoln smiled. “Even in New York City.”
Holy…Claire felt her head spin. Lincoln had just declared on TV, in a clip that would no doubt make its way nationwide if not across the world, that she was as good as any pastry chef in the US. In New York.
