Page 29 of The Chef's Kiss
“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “I expect our wine menu to be popular and prefer to sell local products. Lena actually demands it.”
The Ashfordsteepled his fingers. “Surely Conner’s own artisanal wine-making endeavor can supply one venture.”
I’d expected this question. Lena told me Conner experimented with wine in his spare time and even sold it. “Can I be frank, sir?”
“I would not want anything less.”
“The kind of restaurant I seek to create is not the right setting for experimental wines made in the back room of a barn. We want your best wines. High end, expensive, well known.”
The man’s severe expression broke. He didn’t smile, exactly, but I could tell he approved of my answer. “Your vision sounds intriguing. Tell me more.”
His father nodded at me in encouragement, and I told them all of my plans for the menu, right down to the desserts. It was not how I expected the meeting to go after receiving push back with each correspondence I sent to their distribution department.
“Yes, well, Travis manages distribution, and he’s lived in this town his entire life.” That was the only explanation I got, but it was the only one I needed. He was another townie who wouldn’t do business with the outsider.
Now, he’d have to. A strongly worded email from Himself would change my fortunes, at least when it came to wine. It was the first domino to fall, but hopefully, there’d be more.
The Ashforddismissed me when he had to get to another meeting, and his father followed me out, slapping a hand on my shoulder. “You caught him on a good day, Chef Silverman.” It was the first time anyone in this town had called me that.
“He’s not usually so amenable?”
He laughed. “No. Definitely not. But today is a good day for us all. Our girl is home.” We reached the bank of elevators, and he turned, a gleam in his eye. “Don’t think it escaped his notice that you ran after Jorgina. I take it you know her?”
“Actually, I don’t.” She just looked upset, and I couldn’t help it. It was so unlike me.
His smile widened. “Even better.The Ashfordwill give the world to anyone who protects his daughter. We don’t know why she left so suddenly, but we’re grateful you chose to comfort her over being on time for an important meeting. You’re a good man, Silverman.”
All I could think as I left the building behind was that no, I really wasn’t a good man at all.
11
JORGINA
I walked up the grand staircase to my old rooms at the estate. I swore I wouldn’t come back here until I was ready.
I wasn’t ready. But here we were.
I hadn’t planned for this particular fork in the road to adulthood.
Lugging my purple suitcase over my shoulder, I shuffled down the hall, my heels clicking against the dark oak floors that gleamed in the sunlight streaming in from the massive windows.
The Ashford Estates used to be a happy place for me. When I was a kid, there was no place I’d rather have been. Even after our mom died, my family was my everything. But as my brothers grew up and moved on to college and bigger things, little Jorgie was left behind in an empty house with a father who was often absent.
As a young teenager, home became lonely. I didn’t have many friends at school. Everyone loved me and wanted to be in my circle, but genuine friends just weren’t in the cards for me back then. It was always a question of did they like me or did they like what I could do for them? So, most of my high school years were spent roaming this quiet, dark mansion with the company of my doting father when he was here, and my lovable grandfather when he wasn’t. Gramps was my best friend in those days.
“Poor little rich girl,” I muttered as I walked into the room that held too many sad memories. Not that I had any real horrors in my past. I was just lonely and felt so trapped in this house.
I set my bag on the bed, kicking off my shoes to run my toes through the fluffy aubergine rug. That was my signature color as a teen. The deep purple reminded me of the wine my father made. He’d bought me so many gifts in that color I’d grown sick of it by the time I graduated high school.
He’d offered to redecorate my room to suit my growing tastes, but by that point, I just wanted out. I needed to be somewhere people didn’t know me as the Ashford Princess.
To my dismay, it hadn’t been much different at Harvard. Once people knew who I was, assumptions were made, and I was once again that scared little girl who could never tell what people were thinking. Did that girl invite me to her party because she thought it would give her some kind of social clout? Did that teacher give me an A because I deserved it? Or because my father paved the way for my illustrious Harvard career with a big fat donation check?
And here I was again. Alone in my big purple bedroom, and not much had changed in the years since I left. I still had nowhere else to go. But this time, I had more than myself to think about.
I crossed the room to the dressing mirror that stood at the entrance to my enormous closet.
Turning sideways, I ran my hand over the slight swell of my stomach. “What do you think, little one? Would you want to live here with me and your grandpa?”
