Page 45 of Silent Partner (Pine Falls 3)

Jai nudged me with his elbow, jarring me out of my thoughts. “Earth to boss lady. Where are you?”

“Sorry.” I twirled the spoon in front of me.

“Why aren’t you happier about all of this?” he asked me point-blank.

“I am happy,” I defended myself.

He took the spoon out of my hand. “You need a better poker face.”

I smiled at him while snatching the spoon back. “I suppose you’re right. I just have a lot on my mind right now. And I’m hardly sleeping. I’ve been working on new menu ideas and researching the best ways to rebrand.” I had thought I’d known everything we should do, but now I was second-guessing myself. I was so afraid of screwing up and wasting Brant’s investment. Again, I was waiting for life to slap me in the face and tell me to just deal with the fact that I wasn’t going places. But deep inside, I knew I would never be content with not trying. Though I wasn’t sure how many more beatdowns I could take.

Jai leaned back in his chair. “You need to relax. You, better than anyone, know what this place needs. And the new menu concept you shared with me a few months ago was perfect. It was full of . . . what do you call it? Je ne sais quoi?”

“I do love that phrase.”

He rolled his eyes at me. “Regardless of what phrase you use, I like the idea of sexying up the atmosphere and menu. You need to make a name for yourself so Priyanka will vacation here and see that she’s wasting her life with Nick.”

I laughed. “It’s always about you,” I teased. But sexy was a great word to describe how I envisioned this place. Dimmed chandeliers making the space a little darker and moodier. Fine wines, upscale desserts, and a cheese cart that went around during dinner hours. Plus a more rustic menu, with a French flair and several farm-to-table items. No more cutesy gimmicks. Definitely no s’mores. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good s’more, but that wasn’t going to win us business.

Before Jai could respond, Francisco was walking out with his first dish. The middle-aged man had several sweat beads gathering on his cleanly shaven face, and his olive skin looked a tad pale, but he deftly carried a tray with two plates. It smelled divine, which gave me some hope. I loved the smell of thyme, peppers, onions, and garlic.

Jai and I sat up straight and smiled at our nervous applicant.

Francisco’s demeanor remained serious. Hmm. I wondered if it was because he was nervous or if that was his personality. I had wondered that, too, when I’d interviewed him earlier in the week. There was nothing wrong with being serious, but given the recent rule of the royal highnesses, I wanted to have a fun work environment. That meant hiring not only skilled employees but those with the right kind of personality.

Francisco set the tray on the empty table next to us before picking up both plates and setting them in front of Jai and me. “I made chicken Basquaise,” he said very matter-of-factly. Not very contestant-like.

“It smells wonderful,” I complimented him. Though I was hoping for a prettier presentation of the food.

Jai grabbed a fork. “Tell us your process.” He sounded like a wannabe judge on a cooking show.

Francisco wiped his brow. “I’m a simple guy. I like to use a mixture of processed and fresh foods to save on time.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. He sounded like Giselle, who always wanted to cut corners. I really wanted to focus on quality and using the best, freshest ingredients. But I was trying to keep an open mind. If he had great technique, he could adjust to our methods and menu.

We waited for him to elaborate, and when he didn’t, Jai and I each took our first bite. I chewed slowly, trying to taste every flavor so I could make a fair judgment. My initial reaction was that it was good. Not mind blowing, but it was worthy of a second bite. The next bite, I made sure to include more of a mixture of chicken and peppers. The chicken was a bit dry, but well-seasoned.

Jai, doing his best impression of a celebrity chef, said, “The chicken is overcooked, and fresh tomatoes instead of canned would have given this a fuller flavor.”

Francisco gave him a blank stare and shrugged like it was only a matter of opinion. Huh. I was beginning to wonder if he didn’t like that we were quite a bit younger than he was .

“Thank you,” was all I said. I had a gut feeling that he wasn’t going to fit in here, so no use in adding insult to injury.

Francisco skulked back to the kitchen, and out came Amelia, rosy cheeked with a huge smile on her face. She was carrying two beautifully plated entrées that looked like steak Diane and roasted vegetables with a pan sauce.

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