Page 7 of The Chef's Kiss
She cut me off. “No can do, buddy.” She hopped off her seat. “Sorry.”
I called to her as she walked away. “Wait! Why not?”
She turned, taking pity on me. “First, you really need to talk to the Superiore Bay Winery, not their bar manager. Set up a meeting with their distribution department. Or better yet, talk to your boss. Conner Ashford owns half of that restaurant.”
She moved to turn but thought better of it. “I assume you’ll be going around town to lock down suppliers of local products.”
I nodded. “That is important to Lena, and I only work with the freshest ingredients I can find.”
“Most of the businesses here aren’t likely to want to deal with an outsider.” She gave me an apologetic look. “My advice, have Lena make the introductions and handle the locals.”
Just great. I had to ask my boss for help in one of the most basic parts of my job. The words Jordan used in the end to diminish me rolled through my mind. Incompetent. Under-qualified. She’d said I only got to where I was because of my parents.
But she was wrong. I would do this on my own and prove it, not only to her but to myself and everyone in this town as well.
3
JORGINA
Light footsteps sounded on the porch behind me.
“Don’t be Leyla,” I murmured to myself, closing my eyes as I attempted to clean the horse crap off my hands. “Don’t be Leyla.”
“Jorgina? Is that you?” An unmistakably feminine voice sounded behind me.
“No,” I blurted, hanging my head. Tears burned my eyes, and I scrambled to get to my feet. Jorgina Ashford was not a crier.
“Hey, Leyla. How’s it going?” I bent to run my hands over the thick damp grass to clean the last of the literal crap off my hands.
“I’ll get Conrad.” My brother’s perfect girlfriend turned back to go inside. “Come on in, Jorgie.”
With a shrug, I followed her. The perfect Leyla Priestly. A handful of years older than me, but she had her life together. Great job—award-winning photojournalist no less. Above-average boyfriend, who was head over heels for her.
And then, there was me. Harvard deserter and general screwup socialite with all the opportunities in the world handed to me on a silver platter, and I still couldn’t adult.
“Jorgie?” Conrad came out of his office into the living room with a look of confusion on his face. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be cramming for finals.”
I waved my hand in his general direction and flopped onto the sofa, where I’d crashed just a few weeks ago the last time I ran away from my problems. They’d only amplified since then. “I finished my senior project and most of my finals were papers. At this point, I just need to email a few things and show up for graduation.
“I needed to get off campus and away from anxiety-ridden overachievers for a bit, so I thought I’d come stay here for a while.”
Something must have shown on my face because Conrad’s expression softened, and he came to sit beside me.
“You know you’re always welcome here, kid.” He draped an arm around me and part of me wanted to rest my head against my big brother’s solid shoulder and have a good cry. But this Ashford didn’t cry. She made things happen. That was why I was here. I needed to reconnect with the feisty girl I used to be. I needed a good reset.
“Thanks, Conrad.” I flashed him my winning smile, shoving all thoughts of Jeff to the back of my mind. “That’s why you’re still my favorite brother.”
“I’m the one with the most comfortable couch, aren’t I?” Conrad smirked at me.
“That too.” I leaned back and made myself at home.
“Where are your things?” Leyla asked, looking back down the hall for the bags I didn’t bring.
“Uh, spur-of-the-moment decision. I didn’t bring anything with me.”
“Then, you’re going to have to go home to face Dad this time. I can’t afford to buy you all new clothes.” Conrad went into the kitchen and rummaged around in the fridge. “I can feed you, though. We were going to do burgers, but we could do breakfast for dinner if I don’t have any ground turkey for you.”
I couldn’t eat beef. My body just didn’t like it, but my stomach always wanted it anyway. “Breakfast sounds great if you mean pancakes and bacon.”
