“And if they can’t?” She stood abruptly, pacing, hands wringing. “What if this ruins everything? What if your Michelin dreams evaporate because you chose the wrong chef with a nasty reputation?”
“Stop. You won’t ruin anything. And I definitely hired the right chef. Snow Quest isn’t about your past. Or mine. It’s about the future we’re building here.”
“We?” Her eyes flashed. “There can’t be a ‘we,’ Holden. Because if not Madison, then someone else will dig up my past and twist it.” She bolted for the door.
“So every time something blows up, you bolt, is that the pattern?” My voice cracked sharper than I meant.
“No. I’m protecting you.” She may act strong, but her trembling jaw didn’t go unnoticed. “I’ll stay for the first month—get the restaurant on its feet, give you time to hire another chef. Then I’ll move on.”
The words hit me harder than Madison’s ambush.
“Lilah, no. Absolutely not. Don’t walk away because you’re afraid.” I started toward her, then stopped short, worried that if I pushed too hard, she’d bolt.
“Yesterday, in the cooler, I was afraid, thinking you might be like Brad was,” she admitted. “Today, it’s reality I fear. Madison was right. I’ve become a liability.”
“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
“But I do. You don’t need a chef blamed for fires. With me here, you won’t be able to think straight about what’s best for your business. And I refuse to hold you back from building something incredible with Quest.”
“None of that is true. You’re not a liability. Stop this.”
“No. I can’t do this with you. In time, you’ll see that I’m right. I need to get back to the kitchen. Please don’t follow. It’d be bestif we don’t see each other.” She slipped out before I could stop her.
“What the fuck?” I dragged a hand through my hair trying to make sense of it all. We were only supposed to be a Christmas fling, something light to get us through the storm—except it turned into something so much more complicated. And the worst part? It felt like I just lost the best damn thing I’d ever found.
18
SPECIAL DELIVERY
LILAH
Note to self—fallingfor my enemy on Christmas was a very,verybad idea. I almost wished we could take it back, that Holden would still be the boss I hated because he was a part of my ruined wedding day. That the cozy library room where our hearts met be boarded up and locked away forever so we couldn’t visit there again.
Despite another horrible night of sleep, I tied on my apron, and reported to the kitchen the morning of New Year’s Eve. Only my private countdown had begun. One month, I had told Holden I would stay. Long enough to get Quest by West through the opening and into a rhythm, to stabilize the kitchen and set the tone. Then I’d leave quietly, no drama.
Better to go before my presence—or my reputation—dragged Holden’s shiny dream down. My confidence hit a low point.
“Good morning, Chef.” Ridley offered me my usual blackest of black coffee to start my day. She had the kitchen buzzing already with breakfast orders. Today, the employees could invite friends and family to visit the lodge—a sort of soft launch of the grand opening day tomorrow.
As always, I dove right into business. “How are things? Is the order and timing right? Any retraining we need to consider for making the breakfast run smoother?”
“Depends on your definition of smooth,” Ridley said. “Ticket times are okay, but we’re falling behind at sauté. Still experiencing food delivery shortages, the convection oven temp spiked twice already, and Julia’s on the verge of crying because she can’t get the buttercream consistency right for the caramel apple cake.”
I nodded, falling into a role I knew well, with steadfast management of a kitchen. It was a relief, honestly, dealing with all of this, and not my emotions. They made an appearance anyway.Fool, you slept with your boss. Worse—you caught feelings for him. And then his ex-fling waltzed in and hugged him like she owned the place. The past blindsided you. Again. Therefore, you don’t do relationships, Lilah.
“How is our headcount for dinner?” I asked, shooing away any thoughts but work.
“I think some employees dug too deep into their second and third cousins,” Ridley chuckled.
“When there’s a free buffet offered, people always take advantage.” As I knew they would when Holden announced last week he wanted every guest and employee to eat free today. “Double the potato puree. Everyone overeats potatoes when they're free. I’ll talk to Julia about the buttercream. Then I’ll get started on Plan B for the signature dish. If only those white truffles would have arrived.” Every restaurant had a signature dish, and if I didn’t figure this out, then we’d open without one.
“I think Plan A is still an option,” she said, pointing to the cooler.
“Oh, did the white truffles come in? That would be amazing.”
“Go see for yourself.”
“I trust you. Now I can get to work on it.” Excitedly, I reached for a pan to warm the broth for the risotto. I needed to do a run through on the entire dish, even though that would mean calling Holden in here eventually to have him taste it. His lodge, his name behind everything, his restaurant’s signature dish. But I could remain professional in front of him, I must.
