Page 12 of Between Love and Loathing
“Luxurious, elegant, what people want.”
“If you say so. No use arguing with you.” I wasn’t going to participate in such an exercise with an arrogant asshole who couldn’t take criticism.
“Because?”
I frowned. “Because I've read you don’t take constructive criticism well, and I’ve tried to argue my way into one speck of color in my own bakery to no avail.”
“You read about me?” He seemed surprised.
“Everyone has.” I tried to cover it up, not wanting to stroke his ego at all. “You’re an amazing architect and designer. You’ve completed numerous resorts and also have a knack for managing them. People don’t even know how you have time to sleep. You treat every design like your baby, and you’re overprotective of them all. I get it. That’s how I am with my bakery.” I took a deep breath and tried not to feel pain when I glanced at those seats again. “I know what I sent to Rita wasn’t perfect, but it was mine.”
He nodded. “You realize it’s a privilege to have Rita on the team, working on this with you. She’s an MFA1.” I blinked at him. “She has a Master of Fine Arts in Interior Design from the New York School of Interior Design.” I blinked again. “It’s one of the best schools in the nation”—he seemed slightly perturbed now—“and she knows how to capture the image of what we want.”
She hadn’t captured anything. “I don’t think so,” I blurted it out. Standing in that bakery was almost making me ill. I was going to have to work here, practically live here for the next year, and I had to make sure this bakery was profitable, that I could stomach my own backdrop, and that I could thrive here. My bank account depended on it. I took a deep breath before I murmured, “This wasn’t what I wanted for my bakery. Not at all. Can’t we consider changes?”
Dominic’s eyes widened just a millimeter, before they frowned at my question. “You keep asking but nothing needs changing, Clara.”
“Can you imagine someone coming in and destroying your whole architectural design of this resort?”
“It’s happened a time or two. I did have to include a bakery that—”
“The bakery was a blip on your radar. You have half a million square feet, and the bakery doesn’t even face the front of this building!” Snapping at him wasn’t the right thing to do, but I couldn’t snap at my stepfather since he was six feet under. “But my design, my brand’s aesthetic? You and Rita destroyed it.”
Dominic chuckled, then cracked his large knuckles. Even if I didn’t enjoy his presence, his intense eyes, strong jaw, and muscles in all the right places were nice to look at. “If you think we did that, I’m sorry, but I will tell you … fresh out of college, no one looked twice at my designs. My design pitches, site plan drawings, elevation drawings … all of them were ripped apart over and over before I got any say in the builds I worked on. I worked my ass off from the ground up on my own and fought for each project.”
There was the insinuation again, that I hadn’t made my way to the top, that I wouldn’t fight for any of it. “You do recognize that I also went to the best culinary schools, traveled the world to understand what works in the industry, and that my bakery in Florida was not a flop for a reason.”
“I know the reason.” He tapped a finger on the counter before he met my gaze with condescension.
“And what is it?”
“You and I both know that Carl handed you that bakery just like he’s handed you the one here. I’ve interviewed countless chefs and bakers and worked with restaurateurs for nearly a decade. There are others who should have had that space instead of you.”
I fisted my hand and put it over my heart that I knew would have broken or pounded out of my chest if I didn’t control myself now. “Carl may have helped, but my menu, recipes, and brand’s designs will speak for themselves. I guarantee it.” He stared at me, his gaze hard as granite and as cold as ice. “You may not believe me, Dominic. But I will prove it,” I whispered out.
I don’t think I knew right until that moment how badly I wanted his approval, how hard I was striving for his acceptance. Dominic Hardy wasn’t cruel. He simply knew what was the best. I think that’s what hurt the most. He knew I wasn’t it, that I hadn’t earned my place.
But that’s what I’d come to do. Not for him, but for myself. I’d decided to change my lifestyle and this was the first step.
He finally glanced away from me. “So what? You’re unhappy with the added seating.” He stood there with his arms crossed, a frown on his face.
“This isn’t just about the seating, Dominic.” Both of us knew that. “I’m trying to remain positive, and I would have at least given this a shot if Rita had given me one thing I’d asked for. One little thing after I sat with her and explained how much I wanted a few pink accents.”
Yet, she hadn’t even texted me to tell me she’d made the change. Instead, I got to find out on the tour today.
My desserts had bold color, at least. They’d pop against the stark white counter tops and shiny shelving encased in glass near the register. Not every appliance was in, I could probably brighten the place with those.
“But we’re going for polished and modern. That will attract guests and uphold the Pacific Coast Resort standard,” he said confidently. No amount of positivity would ease my frustration, though.
This felt like a last shot at my dream, and he was chipping away at it, tearing small pieces off and leaving me with a nightmare. He and Rita were setting me up for failure because I couldn’t thrive here.
His phone vibrated, and I waved at him to answer as I glanced around and took in the eight hundred square foot area. The wraparound counter with the register on the end would work well, especially with half of it being glass where people could view desserts. The tables and chairs along the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the lobby was a plus.
Still, after seeing no pink booths, the white tiling felt like a slap in the face the longer I glared at it while Dominic bickered with someone on the phone. “I don’t really care what they want. We did hardwood flooring to warm up the rooms when the sunlight hits. The end product is what they need for their brand. Let them know they will like it once it’s finished.”
He hung up and turned his attention back to me, his eyes full of vibrating energy I couldn’t quite pin down.
“Rita is happy to make design changes where you feel necessary. We’ve ordered the last of the appliances which should be here in the next day or two.”
