Page 4 of The Chef's Kiss
A laugh burst out of me. “You, my friend, are too cocky.” Though, recent events showed, apparently, I was attracted to cocky rich boys, who had secret girlfriends they didn’t tell me about. Girlfriends they were now engaged to.
Colin locked up, and we headed toward the marina. He didn’t ask if I preferred to go to Conrad’s place or my dad’s. He knew. The Hillsons had an entire row of boats at the marina of all different sizes and for all different uses.
We chose a small speed boat, and Colin procured the keys from the main office. Before I knew it, we were out on the water once again. Only this time, it was dark. We could only see the outline of the island offshore, but Colin knew these waters as well as I did. Every inch of them was familiar.
By the time we slowed and pulled up to the small dock that was home to a single boat and a ferry slip, I was ready to run again.
I pictured the disappointment in Conrad’s eyes when he learned why I left school early. Sure, I’d finished everything I needed to graduate, save a paper or two, but he would have questions. Questions I couldn’t answer.
Colin didn’t follow me as I climbed out of the boat. I looked back at him, at his blond hair shining in the starlight. He really was pretty in a refined way, a way many women loved. But to me, he’d always been the boy who let me be whoever I needed to be. A friend.
“Thanks,” I said.
His lips stretched into a smile. “Anytime, Princess Ashford.”
I rolled my eyes as I turned away from him. I’d always hated that nickname, and he knew it. The rumble of his engine faded as he headed back toward Hidden Cove.
Well, there was no going back now.
Taking the steps quickly, I left the dock behind. When I reached the deck of the visitor’s center, I paused, listening to the silence I’d always loved out here. The sanctuary was a special place, and no matter how scared I was, it felt good to be back.
It was a short walk to Conrad’s cabin, and when I reached it, I stopped, drawing in a deep breath. I raised my hand to knock, but something hit my leg and I looked down to find a sneaky fiend trying to knock my phone off where I’d hooked it to my pants.
It hit the ground, and I cringed, thinking of the screen. Red picked it up and took off. “Get back here, you thief,” I yelled, racing after him.
He circled me, jumping onto the porch and evading my grasp. If I didn’t know better, I would have sworn the fox was taunting me. “I am your aunt. You’re not supposed to steal from me.”
I almost tripped as he ducked under my legs, sending me stumbling forward against the door. Time to change tactics. “If you give it back, I’ll help you take whatever Conner has on him next time he visits.”
Red cocked his head, as if he understood my bribe and was considering it. Then, he took off again, and I ran after him, my foot catching on a step and sending me pitching forward onto my hands and knees. My hand hit something squishy and foul-smelling, a familiar scent I could have done without for the rest of my life. Horse poop.
Red jumped onto my back, dropping the phone at my side, and I heard the moment the door opened behind me.
2
HUDSON
You’re incapable of love.
That one line was enough to send me in search of something… more. Not love, exactly. At least, not from a person. Hudson Silverman didn’t have time for people. It was what made Jordan utter those words in the first place.
I had everything I could have wanted within my grasp. An education from the best culinary school in New York, followed by a rising career as a well-known chef in my little corner of Tribeca. It was the dream career that came with the dream girl.
Jordan Lawrence. The woman who promised to give me the financial backing for my very own restaurant.
But that was before, and this was now, my new start. My chance to do it on my own. Well, not completely on my own. I received the offer two months ago in an email from a woman I’d never heard of who lived in a town I couldn’t pinpoint on a map.
Lena Contreras had heard about what happened in New York. She read about the brilliant executive chef who flamed out in one epic meltdown, where he walked out in the middle of dinner service. It had been the restaurant’s biggest night, with three senators and a vice-presidential candidate in attendance.
It was also the night Jordan told me she no longer believed I was the right man for the restaurant she wanted to open.
But Lena, this woman I didn’t know, told me she was willing to give me a chance if I could say the same about her little town.
“Hudson.” Lena gave me a strange look, and I realized she must have said something.
“Sorry.” I rubbed my eyes. “It’s been a long week.”
The look she gave me was full of sympathy rather than judgment. “My grandmother would tell you being tired at the end of the week meant you lived each day.”
