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CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Nobel Man
Logan
Two days have passed since we learned about Stephanie’s father, and I haven’t slept for shit. Didn’t get much sleep the two nights following, either as I waited for updates on how to get Stephanie home.
Now it’s Friday and I stand outside Leon’s restaurant trying to find the words to explain why I can’t be showcased in his restaurant Sunday night.
Blowing air between my lips, I rolled my shoulders and entered the kitchen. The scent of root vegetables and cured meats wafted from the table in front of me. Tonight’s entrée was beetroot risotto with creamy goat cheese.
Finding Leon in the center of the room giving instructions, his smile widened when he spotted me across the room.
“Ah, Logan. What brings you by?” He asked, waving me in before he dismissed the other chef’s.
Gripping the back of my neck, I hated to give him bad news so close to my spotlight, but there was no way I’d be my best knowing Stephanie was hurting.
Clapping me on the back, Leon looked closer. “What’s that look in your eyes?” He asked, standing next to me.
“My girlfriend received some bad news from back home. Her father is in the hospital fighting for his life,” I said. “She needs to get back to Toronto as soon as possible,” I explained, delivering the news.
His face softens with understanding. “And you need to go with her,” he says, placing his hand on my shoulder.
Feeling like I was letting him down, I winced. “I’m afraid so, sir.”
Gripping my shoulder, he nods. “You’re a Nobel man, Logan Petersen. Your grandfather would be proud,” he assured me.
“Thank you, sir.”
“And hey, if you’re serious about opening your own restaurant in the future, I’d still be happy to write you a raving review,” he beamed. “Ronnie snuck me a sample of your dishes from the night of the practice run. You’ve got skills in the kitchen.”
“Thank you, sir. It’s an honor.”
“Now get out of here and take care of your woman.”
A huffed laugh escapes my throat as my phone vibrates in my pocket. When I pull it out, I see it’s Mia.
I wonder if she’s calling about Stephanie’s dad?
Answering on the third ring, I brought the phone to my ear. “Hello.”
“Logan, thank God you picked up,” she said, sounding panicked.
Hearing the distress in my sister’s voice I ran a hand through my hair. “What’s going on?”
“I just heard about Stephanie’s father and I was worried about you. Where are you guys?” She asked, sounding frantic.
“We’re still on the cruise. The ship docks in Greece around noon. From there, we’re boarding a private jet provided by Andre’s manager. We should be back in Toronto early tomorrow morning.”
My sister sighed. “How’s Stephanie doing? I’ve been trying to reach her, but it just keeps going to voicemail.”
“She’s doing as best as can be expected,” I exhaled, dragging my hand over the back of my neck. “Her phone doesn’t get as good of a reception out here,” I explained.
“And how are you doing?” She worried. “I imagine this must be hard for you,” she said, knowing my heart still hadn’t recovered. “Because of Opa,” she whispered, struggling with her own grief.
Wishing I could be there to hold her at a time like this, I’d be lying if I said the news about Stephanie’s father didn’t stir up my own emotions, but I couldn’t dwell on them when Stephanie needed me.
“I’m hanging in here Mia, I promise,” I reassured her, as I briefly closed my eyes. “And when I get back, things are going to change. I promise.”
