He shakes his head. “You’re still not answering my question.”
“I’ve answered it three ways. Should I do a handstand and repeat them? I’m fairly good at juggling. I could try that next.”
“None of them were the answer I was looking for and you know it. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t have feelings for Madison and I’m free to go after her. Because think what you will about me, but I’m not such a dick that I’d go after the woman my brother wants.”
This entire conversation is making me uncomfortable for several reasons. I answer so I can get him off my back. “Like I said a minute ago, Madison is my friend. And my colleague. I respect her and her choices. You’re free to go after her, date her all you want—I won’t be in your way.”
I set my coffee down (number three of the day) and turn to go get a shower before Madison gets here. I don’t normally work on Saturdays but things have been tight lately so I’ve been taking over where I can when we’re short-staffed.
“So to be crystal clear. You don’t want her?” he asks again, but this time all the humor is gone from his voice.
I turn back. “I don’twanther.”
What I feel toward Madison is more thanwant. Wantimplies lust. Implies something fleeting and satiable. What I feel for Madison might dull with some work, but it’s never going away. It’s a need I have to learn to live with. It’s complicated and covered in bickering nuances. It’s annoying and always there, and most of the time I think she might be the answer to my search for happiness. But I’ll never find out.
“One more question,” says Tommy.
“How many times do I have to tell you? Your shoulders will never fill out like mine. They’re made from a special blend of tilling the ground and the coffee you refuse to drink.”
He’s undeterred. “Are you ever going to tell Madison just how much this farm needs her restaurant to succeed?”
I don’t like his taunting tone. “No. And you can’t either.”
“Says he of great moral integrity. Where’s your human decency now?”
“It would put too much pressure on her,” I say, anger coating my words and making my heart race. “She needs some time to get her feet on the ground.”
“Sheneedsto know that she signed on to run a restaurant that was created to save your farm . . . and if you have to close the restaurant’s doors in a year, it’s not because of her.” He pauses and shrugs. “Or . . . it could be because of her, I guess. Either way, she should know.”
My head spins a little. “I swear, Tommy, if you tell her about this . . .”
“You’ll what? Fire me?” He’s delighted by that prospect. “Go ahead. I’m the one connecting you to the funding for this whole shit show, anyway! Because no one listened to me when I told y’all to sell this damn farm years ago, and now it doesn’t have any money.”
“Things aren’t that bad yet.”
He laughs, but it’s pitying. “It’s pretty damn close. And you risking the entire future of this farm on the success of the restaurant might be what actually dooms it.”
My nostrils flare, knowing where he’s going with this. “Don’t suggest—”
“Take the offer.”
“No.”
“James, I swear to god.” He grits his teeth, shooting his hand through his hair. “Anderson Food Distributions has offered you a five-year contract and you are—”
“—not going to take it! I didn’t ask for you to reach out to them on my behalf anyway!” He did it last week, and I’ve been furious with him ever since. Kind of like how he sent me the résumés of several chefs he thinks I should hire over Madison. He’s repeatedly told me that I’m making a mistake since I declined to even entertain the idea of any other chef.
“Why? Give me one good reason you won’t take it!”
“Because it’s not what’s right for Huxley Farm,” I practically shout.
But his voice booms over mine. “Great, then I’ll put that on your tombstone right next to the rest of the men who took the pride of this farm to their graves.”
“What the hell, man?” I’ve never heard Tommy say anything like that before.
Whatever fire was there a minute ago is doused just as quickly as it flamed.
He sighs then hops off the counter, composing himself while adjusting his pleated trousers. Quieter, he adds, “You need to tell her sooner than later. And while you’re at it, tell Mom and Dad too. Or I will.”
