“Why? We’re lucky to get a chef of his caliber.” Hunter crossed his arms. “Besides, he needs this second chance.”
As if she needed that reminder.
Alec’s former restaurant, Une Bouchée, had won the elite James Beard Award for Best New Restaurant. That coup had happened just before Joe’s death. The following year, Alec lost his mojo and, within months thereafter, his restaurant.
The veiled accusation Mark had hurled at Alec at Joe’s funeral sifted through her thoughts, making her question—not for the first time—whether it had exacerbated Alec’s downward spiral. Then again, having lived with secrets and regrets of her own, she could hardly criticize his.
“Is he ready, though?”
After losing his life’s work, Alec had gone off the grid, returning home only two months ago. Colby wanted to help him, but the part of her that Mark’s illness had wrung dry now cowered from the idea of working with another broken spirit. Especially one whose presence forced her to think about everything she wanted to forget.
“If your chef hadn’t bailed last minute, I wouldn’t push. But why go through another round of interviews when we don’t need to?” Hunter glanced at his watch. “Not long ago, Alec was arguably one of the best chefs in the country. He’s worked in some of France’s finest restaurants. No one’s better qualified than him.”
“Except I’m not chasing awards and acclaim. I don’t want this place to be stuffy. I want it to be a casually elegant place for people to relax and have fun. To celebrate, not judge. Can Alec put his ego aside and take orders from me?”
“What you should want is a customer wait list and big profit margin. This little place is yours to manage, but you can learn a lot from Alec.” He impishly pushed her shoulder with two fingers. “Maybe it’s you who needs to check your ego.”
Colby bristled. “I know ‘this little place’ is nothing compared with the empire you all run up the road, but it’s everything to me. I’m not stupid. Alec has experience that I don’t, but that doesn’t mean we can work well together.”
“Sorry I offended you.” Hunter tipped his head, his gaze softening.
During the past two years, he’d voiced concern about the circles under her eyes, earned from months of nightmares. He’d noted the way she’d no longer watch gory movies, go out on any balcony, or keep in touch with Mark’s remaining family. How, for the most part, her sense of humor had withered. Like everyone else, Hunter had attributed the changes to her witnessing Mark’s suicide—the very worst day of her life, yet only a part of what haunted her.
Given Hunter’s ignorance of the diagnosis Mark had insisted remain carefully hidden throughout their marriage, she couldn’t complain about how Alec’s presence ripped the lid off a past she’d been working so hard to bury.
“Don’t overthink this,” Hunter continued. “Alec wouldn’t have accepted the offer if he couldn’t work with you. You two always got along well before. This is the perfect solution.”
“‘Before’ being the operative word. I’m not sure this is the best solution for either of us now.” She hadn’t seen Alec in more than a year and wondered if he, like his parents, still blamed her for bringing Mark into their lives. Would he treat her coolly, or was he so in need of this job that he’d bend over backward to put her at ease? Either way would be awkward unless they could rebuild their former friendship.
“Well, suck it up, buttercup, because this is what Dad and I want.” He patted her shoulder. She’d hated that dumb saying since they were kids, but, in a weird way, Hunter’s consistency reinforced the familial link that gave her life an anchor.
“I think I’m going to hate answering to you.” She wrinkled her nose.
“I know you will.” He grinned. “You want to get rid of me? Buy out CTC. Alec can expedite that.”
Hunter had kept her safe at high school parties, taken swipes at Jenna whenever she’d made Colby feel less of a daughter to their dad than their half sister, Gentry, and supported her idea for A CertainTea. Remembering those things made his bossiness easier to tolerate.
For a moment, her muscles unwound. Then Alec walked in.
The restive energy pulsing off his body magnified his presence, making him appear ten feet tall instead of six. Maturity had continued to transform the nerdy teen in skinny jeans into even more of a stunner than when she’d last seen him. Rather disconcerting, actually. She needed another awkward thing between them like she needed a bad hair day.