“They were, at first. He loved the kitchen and the grounds.” She glanced from Hunter to her father. “But then he trashed the menu. The one I’ve already budgeted for and paid to have printed. He’s insistent on substituting his vision for mine, so I gave him an ultimatum. He might quit, which means I’ll need to find another chef. Since you hired him, I thought I should tell you in person.”
Hunter and her father exchanged a meaningful look, while Jenna doodled dollar signs on her notepad.
“When you came to me for help to get this idea off the ground, I agreed, partly because you’ve been struggling since Joe’s and Mark’s deaths. Between the hefty acquisition cost, renovation, insurance, advertising, and personnel expenses, we’re in this for close to four million in order to make it everything you wanted.” Her dad cast Jenna a quelling look to keep her quiet. “I knew you’d need time to learn this business. That you’d make mistakes. But setting aside the personal issues, dismissing a chef with Alec Morgan’s credentials rather than finding a compromise seems both unprofessional and foolish.”
Her dad had been generous, yet the majority of those expenditures were now fixed assets on CTC’s balance sheet. If CTC sold the land and building, it would recoup 90 percent of what it had spent to date, maybe more. She hadn’t blown through $4 million on a whim, and she wouldn’t let him lord that over her as if she had.
“Alec says he won’t settle for being a ‘country club’ cook. He hates my vision, but it’s my restaurant. He’s being inflexible.” Deep down she admitted she hadn’t tried to compromise, either. Instead she’d knee-jerk reacted to feeling bullied. Overreacted, actually.
Hunter shrugged. “Is the printing cost of the original menu really worth sacrificing the potential boon Alec could be? Why not learn from him? Use his experience to avoid rookie mistakes.”
Colby noticed Jenna toss an incredulous look at Hunter, probably because she believed she knew more than he did about everything, yet he butted heads with her at every turn.
“You’re not listening. I know he’s a fabulous chef, and Une Bouchée was amazing. But it’s not like the only restaurants that succeed are fancy French ones. My favorite place in town is the Gab-n-Eat diner. And look at Gunther’s Pub, or Sesame Palace, or Taverna. They’ve all been around forever without architecturally challenging meals that no one can pronounce. Haute cuisine might impress those in the know, but normal people like me want decent portions of recognizable foods that taste great. I can’t help it if Alec thinks A CertainTea’s menu is ‘beneath’ him.”
“It is.” Her father crossed his arms. “I called my old friend—Rob Salvetti, up in Seattle—when I was deciding about whether CTC should invest in your idea. He freelances for Saveur, Food & Wine, and Bon Appétit. During our conversation, he mentioned that there’s been a big increase in interest in haute cuisine because of all the cooking shows and stuff.”
She’d expected Hunter to defend Alec, but not her dad.
“That might be true, but it’s beside the point. I can find another qualified chef who’s happy to cooperate with me and my vision.” Colby’s leg bounced beneath the table.
“Is that best for the bottom line?” Criticism colored Hunter’s question.
“Hunter, Jenna, give us a minute.” Her dad waved them out. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
Without delay, those two parted without a kind word between them.
Her father leaned forward. “What’s really going on, because it’s got to be more than a simple fight about a menu?”
That damn stinging behind her eyes started up, but she wouldn’t cry while discussing business. Why was it that every time she patched up one gush of emotion, it just leaked out through a different crack? “Do you think I’m being stupid?”
“I think you’re being rash. So I’m guessing you’re taking a stand for reasons that go beyond your vision. Because, honestly, I can’t imagine why Alec’s loftier ambitions don’t excite you.”
Her gaze fell to her hands, which were clasped tightly in her lap. “I don’t know if I can work with him.”
“Because of Joe?” Her father touched her arm.
She nodded, then confessed something she didn’t like admitting, not even to herself. “And Mark. I’d finally gone ten straight weeks without a nightmare. But anticipating seeing Alec today had me on edge all night. Now I’ll be working with him—a constant reminder of both Joe and Mark. What if the nightmares start again?”