Page 44 of Beach Bum Billion-Heiress
"Paul here is heading up some restaurants on the east coast for me. I thought you two would like to spend some time together after dinner and share stories, swap ideas." Mr. Vanderman was speaking to Sage and Paul, ignoring me entirely.
Sage's eyes widened slightly before she recovered and put on a polite smile, one I knew was fake. "It's lovely to meet you, Paul, but I'm afraid my schedule is jam packed right now. I'll have to take a rain check."
She squeezed my hand tighter under the table, as if to keep me calm or to express her own anger, I wasn't sure. The sweat on the back of my neck was back, not because of nerves but from the restraint it was taking to not lash out at Sage's father. I counted to ten, then twenty, finally able to rein it in. If I didn't grind my teeth away to nothing before the night was up, I'd consider myself lucky. What kind of asshole sets his daughter up with another man at the same table as her boyfriend?
Sage's thumb, frantically stroking my hand reminded me this night wasn't about me. It was about Sage and her accomplishment. I had to stay focused on that. I'd fucking kill him with kindness.
We ordered our meals, the choice a difficult one with all the tempting items on the menu. Sage had assured me beforehand that even though this place was fancy, it didn't have any of those tiny entrees that left a person starving after forking over their whole month's paycheck. Given we were right on the water, I chose the salmon and Sage chose the shrimp skewers. Not surprisingly, Paul chose the exact same filet Mr. Vanderman ordered, right down to how much pink in the center. I smirked at him, unable to hold back what I thought of his nonexistent backbone. He was too busy following every condescending word that fell from Mr. Vanderman's mouth to notice my dislike.
"Sage, honey, will you take Paul on a tour of the kitchen?"
We'd just finished our entrees and were waiting on our dessert orders, having almost survived this ridiculous meal and stilted conversation. Of course, Mr. Vanderman had to go pushing our buttons yet again. It's like he couldn't help himself.
"Father." Sage clenched her jaw before continuing. "My head chef will be giving tours after the dessert comes out for anyone who'd like to see the kitchen. I suggest Paul wait for what I'm sure will be a fascinating tour."
Paul's phone began to ring and the servers began placing our desserts on the table, saving Sage from having to make further excuses.
"Excuse me, I gotta take this." Paul spoke directly to Mr. Vanderman, placing his napkin on his chair before ducking out.
Mr. Vanderman watched him walk to the front door before he swiveled to me, dessert forgotten for now.
"Jax."
"Mr. Vanderman."
If I wasn't completely hallucinating, it looked like he was going to smile. Or maybe he had heartburn, I wasn't sure.
"You seem to care for my daughter." He shushed my agreement with a quick head shake. "And you've handled yourself beautifully at this dinner, even when I subtly tried to push Paul on Sage."
Sage choked quietly next to me, her hand squeezing mine again, which at this point, was completely numb from the death grip throughout dinner. I didn't know what was funnier, Sage breaking my hand while I had to grin and bear it, or Mr. Vanderman thinking his matchmaking was subtle. Thankfully, he continued, not expecting me to respond.
"Besides, any young man who can get my daughter to put on a proper cocktail dress is doing something right in my book." He guffawed like he thought he was funny, putting his daughter down in front of me.
That was my breaking point. The moment the decision was made whether I realized it or not. He may be Sage's father, but I wasn't going to let anyone insult her, ever again. I leaned across the table, making sure he heard every word I was about to deliver.
"Sir, I don't tell your daughter what to wear. I figure at twenty-nine years old, she can figure that out on her own. If you see any changes in Sage since you saw her last, it has more to do with her finding a passion for helping build a business. She's always had more intelligence, more grace, moreheartthan you or I or anyone else I've ever met. But you know what? I find it sad, that only now that she's built a restaurant that you can approve of, that you see your daughter for who she is. So no, I didn't tell her to wear an 'appropriate' dress tonight. And I never will. She's a goddamn adult, and a hell of a good one at that. She can make her own choices."
I stood up and turned to Sage, offering her my hand. I ignored her slack jaw and did my best to get her out of there.
"Sage, would you like to address the restaurant and officially christen Stem2Stern open for business?”
A smile that could have lit a thousand candles took over Sage's face and she slipped her hand into mine.
"I'd love to."
Without a backwards glance, we walked to the front of the restaurant and Sage grabbed the wireless microphone we'd set up earlier. I motioned to our waiter, the signal to indicate we were ready for champagne to be delivered to everyone in attendance. A waiter appeared immediately with a wine bucket, complete with a bottle of Veuve and two flutes.
Sage got everyone's attention. "Welcome everyone to opening night at Stem2Stern!"
The crowd applauded and turned their heads to look at her. "Thank you all for being here tonight to support this restaurant, my staff, and myself. I haven't been in Huntington Beach for very long, but you've all welcomed me with open arms. I promise you that I will always keep the citizens of HB top of mind with all business decisions. This restaurant is for you. It's for HB." A few people whooped at that, making Sage's smile grow.
"I named this restaurant after a very good man, Max Stern." She turned to me and pulled me up next to her, linking our arms. "You all know his son, Jax. It was through Jax that I learned of the contributions of his father. It was through Jax that I learned what it means to be part of a community. It was because of Jax, that I learned what love is."
I looked at her sharply, my heart rate tripling at the meaning of her softly spoken words. She didn't look at me though, just swallowed thickly and kept going, my strong woman in full effect.
"So please raise your glasses in a toast with me." I handed her the flute, keeping one for myself. "To all the couples who go on first dates here, to all the couples who fall in love again on their 50th wedding anniversary, to all the birthdays and celebrations of our friends and family...may these walls always contain happiness and joy and prosperity."
She lifted her glass and everyone followed suit, taking a sip.
