She wished Claudia was staying.
“If there is anything I, or my team—”what’s left of it“—can do to make your stay more comfortable, please don’t hesitate to let us know.”
The couple headed toward the stairs, and Hattie watched them for a moment and then walked to her office.
Erica was pulling some pages from the printer and looked up as Hattie walked into the room.
“I’ve retyped the menu—changed the layout as Claudia requested. Take a look and let me know what you think.” She handed them over and Hattie took the menu, trying not to be distracted by the fact that this was Erica and the whole situation was beyond weird. She had no idea how she was supposed to react, but that was true of so much of life, or so she was discovering.
She scanned it. “You’ve called it the Winter Warmer menu?”
“It’s no longer a taster menu, so I thought we should present it as something different. Confidently. Not as something we’ve thrown together in last-minute desperation. It’s snowing outside. People enjoy comfort food when it’s cold, and also at Christmas. I thought tomorrow’s menu could be Festive Feast. And maybe later in the week we could have Santa’s Supper.”
Hattie was so focused on simply surviving the evening, she hadn’t given a thought to the rest of the week. But Erica had thought about it. Winter Warmer. Festive Feast.
“I wanted to do something similar in the beginning—fun themed evenings. I thought we could do a Swiss night, with fondue and other traditional Swiss dishes. I even thought about offering posh afternoon tea, the way they do in the big hotels in London. Finger sandwiches and amazing cakes, maybe a glass of champagne—” She stopped and shook her head. “Sorry. Getting carried away and I need to stay focused. Thanks for the menu.”
“Wait—” Erica tapped her finger against her lips. “So what happened to your idea for Swiss night and afternoon tea? It wasn’t a success?”
“We didn’t try it. Brent didn’t think it would work. He wanted to offer a gourmet tasting menu with wine pairings. And that was popular. His idea was a good one.”
“But that doesn’t mean your idea was bad,” Erica murmured. “There is more than one good idea in the world. I’ve heard a lot about what Brent thought, but what about you? What does Hattie think?”
No one ever asked her what she thought. Everyone had just assumed she’d keep things going the way Brent had. Except Noah, of course. He’d always shown confidence in her and encouraged her to forge her own path.
Noah.
She wasn’t sure what she would have done without his support earlier. Just having him there had made things easier.
And she badly wanted to show the courage he seemed to think she possessed.
“I think I like what you’ve done with this menu. I think that once things have settled down, I’d like to explore being more creative with our dining options.”
“Good. If you want to toss around a few ideas, I’m a good listener.”
Hattie felt a flicker of excitement. It was slowly dawning on her that she could do whatever she liked. Make whatever decision she wanted to make. No one was going to stop her or tell her they had a better idea. It was both freeing and scary. The responsibility for success or failure was all hers.
She looked from the menu to Erica. “You were on your way out the door. Why are you helping me?”
“You look like someone who could use some help, so let’s start with that as a reason and tackle the rest later.” Erica tidied up the paper stacked by the printer. “We need to get this menu to Claudia for approval and then print them. After that, you can tell me what else needs to be done and we can throw around some ideas if that’s helpful. Do you want me to take her the menu?”
Hattie had no idea what Erica did for a living, but she was willing to bet she was good at it.
“Thank you, but I’ll do it. I should probably check on things.”
She headed to the kitchen. No matter how good Claudia was, the staff had been unsettled to have lost Chef Tucker and were probably upset by all the conflict and concerned for the future.
Braced to give another motivational speech, she pushed open the doors of the kitchen and stepped inside.
She felt the energy instantly. Everyone was busy, food was being prepared, the smells so delicious that for a moment she wished she were a guest and not the owner. And in the middle of it all was Claudia, who appeared to be everywhere at once, encouraging, demonstrating, praising and smiling.
Hattie felt a sudden burst of optimism. The ball of tension in her stomach eased.
Claudia noticed her and strode across the kitchen. “Are those our menus?”
Hattie liked her use of the wordour. With Chef Tucker and Stephanie every conversation had been dominated byI.I need this. I want this.
“Yes. Erica has done a great job.”
