I hate this part. The waiting. The being judged. Even though I know my numbers are solid and my concept is tighter than a Michelin kitchen on a Saturday night.
“The margins work,” Gideon says finally. He slides the tablet back to me. “But you already knew that.”
I nod in agreement. “I did.”
He frowns. “So why are you here?”
Straight to it. No bullshit. That’s why I respect thebastard even when he makes me want to put my fist through something.
“I need a reality check,” I admit. “Before I pull the trigger on another expansion.”
He leans back. Studies me like I’m an earnings report with missing footnotes. “You’ve never needed a reality check before.”
I fold my arms. “Yeah well. Things change.”
“Do they.” It’s not a question. It’s a challenge. And suddenly I’m back in my first kitchen getting dressed down by a chef who could smell weakness like burnt garlic.
I shift in my chair. “You didn’t come to my wedding.”
Gideon’s eyebrow lifts exactly one millimeter. “That’s what this is about?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t fucking know.” I run a hand through my hair. “You were on the list. You didn’t show.”
“I was busy,” he says evenly. “Ava... and my kids, are my top priority. Married men don’t go to Vegas alone.”
“Your wife was invited, too.”
“Plus,” he continues as if I hadn’t spoken, “Leo mentioned something about GHB-laced cocktails. And a very interesting evening. Didn’t sound like the kind of wedding I needed to attend.”
My jaw tightens. “That was the day before.”
Still, thatfuckingday.
The day everything started.
The day I met Jess and nearly destroyed my life before it even began.
“And it was in no way part of the plan,” I say through my teeth.
“I’m sure it wasn’t. But it happened.” Gideonfolds his hands on the table. “Which brings us back to why you’re really here. This isn’t about restaurant margins or expansion timing. You want advice.”
Fuck.
Always could see right through me.
That’s Gideon King for you.
“I have a kid,” I start. Then stop. Try again. “My daughter. She’s five. Anxious as hell. Lost her mom two years ago.”
Gideon nods. Doesn’t interrupt. Just waits.
“I hired a nanny. Best decision I’ve made in years. Ben is actually happy now. Sleeping better. Fewer meltdowns. The woman is a fucking miracle worker.”
“But.”
Yep.
Always a but.
