My breath rushes out.
“You told me you wanted to modernize the farm.”
“Which is true.” He holds me tighter.
“But you left out the massive part about gambling your entire family farm on me!” I rip out of his arms now, and he lets me. “That Tommy—who does this for a living—told you to hire an experienced chef instead of me! I don’t even know what to think right now.”
I hate that I’m crying, especially after what Tommy just said about me being overly emotional. But I am who I am, and I can’t stop the tears.
He takes a breath.
“Ask me anything, and I’ll tell you the truth. No more secrets. Let me clear everything up.”
My voice is weak when I ask, “Was there ever a restaurant in the works before I called you by accident that night?”
He’s quiet. Then, “No.”
My eyes shut against the word.
“Tommy had suggested it, and I told him no. I was planning to find a different way because I didn’t want a restaurant. I didn’t like the idea of tourism coming to the farm, or having to rely on Tommy’s help in any way.”
“So then I called and cried, and you offered me the job. What did you do when you hung up?”
He breathes deep and lets it out. “I called Tommy and told him I was in for the restaurant. That it needed to be built and launchedin three and a half months. And also . . . that I already had a chef lined up.”
I wrap my arms around myself. “Why? Why the hell would you risk so much for me? Because I was so pitiful you felt sorry for me?”
“No. Pity never crossed my mind. It was only ever because I wanted to see you . . . happy. And selfishly, I wanted to be the one to make you happy.”
He put the well-being of this farm on the line to make me happy. The weight of that threatens to crumple me.
“Is it also true that Tommy sent you other chefs to consider instead? And you didn’t even talk to them?”
He nods. “It’s true.”
“That night, sitting on your porch stairs, I asked if you made the restaurant as a safety net for me and you said no! You gave me your word, James.”
He makes a face, and then I hear it before he even says it out loud.The loophole.
“I meant what I said that night, Madison. I didn’t make the restaurant because I thought you needed a safety net. What I didn’t tell you—but should have—is that I only moved forward with the restaurant because you were signing on to it. The risk wasn’t worth it to me with anyone else running the kitchen. But with you? I knew it would succeed. I thought I was protecting you from unnecessary pressure by keeping that from you, but—”
“But you werewrong.You should have told me, James! I needed to know how much was at stake for you. And more than that, Tommy is right. You have to stop shouldering everything to protect everyone else from discomfort. It’s going to hurt you in the end.”
His face twists into a grimace. “I know. I’m so sorry, Madison.”
“How bad are things financially? Give me the whole truth. No filters.”
He swallows and looks out into the night. “. . . Bad. Therestaurant needs to be booked solid for the first six months to prove it’s sustainable.”
I’m hyperventilating now, arms clutching my stomach, hunching over to get air.
Restaurants need six months just to pick up steam! To book out solid like that—especially in a rural area—is almost unheard of.
I can’t do this. I’m not the person to make this happen.
“Hey, it’s okay! Everything is going to be okay,” he says, impassioned, bending to catch my eye, rubbing his hand up and down my back.
His attempts to soothe me only make it worse.
