Page 5 of Geordie

He said his name was George—no, Geordie. I’ve never heard that name before. It sounded gruff with that Irish—no, it has to be a Scottish accent, if he’s from MacTavish Cellars. What does it matter? I’ll be dealing with Connell, the winemaker, not the delivery driver.

The kitchen is unusually quiet. There’s none of the easy banter I try to encourage during prep. Instead, my staff is silent, paying close attention to their duties and my mood, which probably has a black cloud hovering over me from that guy’s intrusion into our world.

They’re walking around me as if I’m about to do a full Gordon Ramsey on them. I don’t abuse my staff. Chefs belittled the staff for sport in kitchens where I worked. I swore if I ever got my own place, I wouldn’t be that chef. Besides, I think food tastes better when it’s made with love, not laced with tears.

The pan is heavy as I slide it off the flame to begin another sauce. Harv arrives, checking stations. “It will be alright, Lily.” He grins as he approaches. Just looking at the lines crinkling around his brown eyes makes me smile back and eases my tension. Is his reassurance about Dalliance or Stephen, my recent ex-boyfriend?

Harv’s at my station waving me away. “You don’t need to be here; I’ll get Tony to finish up for you. Go into your office and relax. I hear Tina just accepted another delivery for you at the back door. Go look at it; it’s on your desk. I’ll be in the office in a few minutes to discuss tonight’s service before the crew meeting.” He waves me away again. “Go on.”

“Sure,” stepping away to allow Tony to slip into my place, him grinning at the opportunity to break from the line and step up in his duties.

Harv has been my friend, confidant, and mentor since I was a line cook in my first kitchen. He’s now my wise sous chef at Dalliance. I’d be lost without his guidance, along with his wife, Marie, who kind of adopted me. My mom and her long-time boyfriend Jack waited until I finished college, culinary school, and landed my first job before they married and moved to Oregon, back to the small town where Jack grew up.

The noise of the kitchen is still in my ears when I enter my office. Tina, the office manager, is there at her desk, peeking over her specks, leaning far to the right to be seen. She’s obscured by a mammoth floral arrangement covering my desk. I pull off my hat and shake out my hair, frowning at the display. “Should I even ask who they’re from?” pitching my cap onto the chair.

Tina shrugs her indifference, then presents me with a small white envelope. “I have my suspicions, but you’ll have to read the card to know for sure.”

My finger finds its way under the tiny flap until the card inside is visible.

Lily,

I’m sorry. I know we can work this out.

I love you.

Stephen.

I love the scent of lavender and pink sweet peas. The delicate sweet pea petals are like tiny lace, but the sight of this gift says he’s ignoring my request for no contact.

I open a drawer, pitch the card inside, and slam it shut. If this breakup is going to stick, I need to be strong no matter what he says or sends to buy me back.

“Tina, could you place this behind the receptionist’s podium? This is way too big to be enjoyed just by me. I think the diners will appreciate this when they arrive.”

She grins. “No problem, boss. I’m on my way out. Is there anything you need before I go?”

I search in my pants pocket for the MacTavish invoice, then hand it to her. “I promised to pay this today. The driver reduced the billing by one case. Could you make sure that’s the right price?”

“Sure thing.” She returns to her desk to contact the winery.

Harv pokes his head in. “Is it safe to come in? I heard from the crew what happened with the MacTavish delivery.”

Tina leaves through the back door to the small patio, talking to someone on her phone.

I move the flowers to a side table. “Yeah, have a seat.”

“How are you doing?” he asks with concern creasing his forehead. I know he’s referring to my ex.

“I’m okay. I don’t want to talk about Stephen. It’s Dalliance I want to discuss.”

He nods for me to continue, looking relieved this won’t be a crying-on-his-shoulder session.

I take a seat, happy to talk about the future of the restaurant. “We’ve been at this location for four years. That first year, we got lots of press, and even some TV news and morning shows came to interview us. It was a whirlwind, being one of the darlings of the culinary scene. Now, we have our regulars, but it’s been slow and we need to shake things up.”

Harv pushes back into his seat, his hands folded over his belly. “The new fall menu is coming out in a few weeks. That should give us some new buzz.”

“I’ve been thinking about a new location.” I pull out paperwork from my drawer and drop it on the desk. “I think we should open a restaurant at Catriona.”

Harv’s eyebrows rise to the level of his receding hairline. “Isn’t that the place you called the wine Disneyland of the south bay? You said they’d probably have rides for the kids while their parents drink themselves into a wine-induced stupor?”

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