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The Chef's Kiss

Page 26

by Michelle MacQueen

The laughter died down, and the three of us stared at each other, happy to be together again. But I couldn’t put it off any longer.

“Dad, I—”

“You’ll come home, I imagine,” he said. “The estate may not smell of manure, but it should have comforts, nonetheless.”

I quivered at the thought of another night spent on Conrad’s couch. There was a reason the stables at the Ashford Estates were built so far from the main house. “Yes. But Dad, there’s something I need to tell you.”

There was a knock on the door, and Birdy poked her head in. “Sorry to interrupt, sir, but I have those new documents for you to sign.” She walked in and set them on his desk.

Dad nodded in thanks, and when Birdy shut the door, I knew I had to get the words out before my courage shattered.

He glanced at the papers and then looked up. “I’m listening.”

“I…” I breathed in. “Dad, I made a mistake.”

“Nothing I’m sure we can’t clean up. Who do I need to talk to?” He was used to getting me out of trouble.

“No, it’s not that kind … Dad, I’m—”

Another knock at the door. “Mr. Ashford.” Birdy appeared again, and I wanted to cry. “I have a Hudson Silverman here, who says he has an appointment with you and the elder Mr. Ashford.”

Hudson Silverman. That was my granddad’s favor to Lena. Orchestrate a meeting between Hudson andThe Ashford.

“It’s okay.” I jumped to my feet, the contents of my stomach threatening to spew all over his desk. “I need to go.” I bolted from the room, barreling into someone on my way. He tried to help me up, but I scrambled away and ran down the hall, escaping into a stairwell and finally able to breathe again.

How hard was it to get the words out?”

I leaned my head back against the cool cinder block wall. “Dad, I’m pregnant,” I whispered. “Surprise.”

10

HUDSON

Something wasn’t right.

I stared from the open doorway, where two men watched after Jorgina, before glancing back over my shoulder at where she’d disappeared.

“What did I say?” the man I presumed was the younger Mr. Ashford asked.

The older man looked just as bewildered. “This time, son, I don’t think the problem was you. For once.”

This meeting was important. After getting nowhere, I finally asked Lena for help. She called up Conner’s grandfather, and here we were. It didn’t solve my problem with other businesses, but it was a start.

The distribution department stonewalled me with a line about not distributing directly to small, unknown restaurants, but Lena was sure Mr. Ashford would want to help his son, even if Conner didn’t believe that.

I was starting to learn she had a lot of faith in people.

Like that girl who just ran by. Only this morning, Lena told me to offer her a waitressing job, give her something to do. I wasn’t in the habit of providing entertainment for rich girls, but something about the way she ran into me without seeing me didn’t sit right.

I was going to regret this. I’d probably hate myself when we opened without a good wine menu, even if Conner could provide some of his more artisan blends. We needed the well-known stuff too. Yet, I couldn’t get Jorgina out of my head.

Mr. Ashford’s assistant called after me as I turned on my heel and went in search of the sad girl who’d done nothing but annoy me each time we met. She was a coffee-spilling, scone-stealing menace. And yet … and yet.

But when I pushed into the stairwell, she was nowhere to be found.

My phone buzzed, and I knew it was probably the elder Mr. Ashford, wondering what happened to me, so I didn’t answer. It was too late to turn back now.

I ran down the stairs all the way to the lobby and searched for her, catching sight of auburn curls just outside the front doors. When I ran outside, I found her fiddling with her phone.