She disconnected, leaving me alone in the dark. The door to the storeroom opened. I looked up, a quick flutter of hope in my chest.
“March?”
It was only Ray. Damn it. Probably worried I was going to leave him shorthanded.
I wiped my nose on my sleeve. Tightened my ponytail. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Aaron is here. You’ve got time.” The sous appeared around a corner of the shelving, his white coat dimmed by the shadows. “I brought you stew.”
That was a surprise.
“I’m not hungry,” I said. My stomach felt filled with cement.
“Eat.” He held out a bowl and a fork. “We can’t have you fainting on the line.”
He watched, a little frown between his brows, as I poked at thebowl’s contents, chicken thighs in a stock of parsley, mint, and onions over rice.
“He wants too much to impress,”Eric had said. But for the first time, I could see the sous chef’s fussy manner as part of a genuine desire to please.
“Thanks.” The warm broth soothed my aching throat.
“What are you going to do now?” Ray asked.
After tonight, he meant. The realization roused a near-panic in my chest. I had an education I wasn’t using and a studio I could barely afford. My mother was facing surgery, my sister was distracted, and my boss/boyfriend didn’t want to look at me.
“Go. Just go.”
“I don’t know.” I swallowed. “I need to think.”
CHAPTER 16
Meg
At five minutes after nine, the sun was shining. The market was filled with people pushing strollers, sampling apples and cookies, carrying bulging bags of carrots and cabbage, collards and kale. The air smelled like Christmas, pine with a hint of cold, as if the tree sellers at the end of the lot had brought the mountain air with them.
I lowered the Explorer’s rear seats, making a play space in the back of the SUV, spreading out blankets and pillows, unpacking board books and blocks, arranging the twins’ car seats like chairs around a plastic play table behind the cargo net.
“This is your fort,” I said. Making it a game.
DJ smiled and crawled under the table.
“Is a tent, Mommy,” Daisy said.
I smiled at her in gratitude. “That’s right. It’s your tent to play in while Mommy’s working.”
“Nice setup,” Carl Stewart said behind me.
“We camping,” Daisy informed him with pride.
“Good for you.” Carl glanced at me. “No fair, using your cute kids to sell cheese.”
I unzipped their jackets, unpacked snack cups and juice boxes for each of them. “You could rent them. For the right price. Sell more sweet potatoes.”
He grinned. “You should bring them to the buyer’s meeting.”
I turned. “What meeting?”
“I mentioned your operation to my buyer at All Seasons. Talked up the family farm angle, said how you were taking over from your ma. He said you should call, set up a meeting. If he likes you, he’ll kick your product profile over to the specialty buyer—their cheese guy. You interested?”
