She sat in her truck for another moment, then pulled out her phone and began typing.
Hi. Hope today wasn’t too difficult. Thinking about you. When you get back, I have something I’d like to ask you. Nothing serious—just an idea. Drive safely. —S
She hit send and drove home. Hopefully, Paul would say yes. And just maybe, it would help him see how much he’d changed in the last twenty years.
Chapter 18
Susan gathered the last of her teaching supplies from the Welcome Center’s kitchen and stored them in a cupboard.
The afternoon’s class had gone well. Everyone was getting excited about Christmas and the holiday events that were being planned. Julie had suggested they rent a booth at the market after the Santa Claus Parade and fill it with Christmas cookies and cakes. That had created another round of excited chatter and a list of what they’d need.
Before she left the room, she checked her phone to see if Paul had sent her another text. She’d been worried about him all day. Hopefully, Michelle’s service had helped him and not created even more regrets in his life.
As she stepped through the doorway, she nearly collided with someone. “Oh! I’m sorry.” Susan stepped back, recognizing Cole Morrison from when they’d met at Andrea’s Café.
“Susan, right?” Cole’s smile was warm. “No harm done. I was just leaving Pastor John’s office.”
“How are the resort plans coming along?”
Cole’s expression shifted. “They’re going well. I was hoping to hear from you. You never called about the restaurant.”
Susan lifted the strap of her bag onto her shoulder. “I’ve been meaning to call you, but it’s been a little hectic.”
“That’s okay,” Cole told her. “I just showed Pastor John the latest drawings. I have them with me if you’re interested in looking at them?”
Susan bit her bottom lip. She was intrigued by what everyone was saying about the resort. Even though she didn’t think she’d want to work in the kitchen, it wouldn’t hurt to look at the plans.
Susan smiled. “I’d like to see what you’ve designed. There are some small meeting rooms along this corridor. I don’t think Pastor John would mind if we used one of them.”
Cole followed Susan down the hall, past bulletin boards covered with community announcements and children’s artwork. She peeked inside a small room she’d used before. With its round table and four chairs, it was the perfect size for a quick meeting.
Cole spread the architectural drawings across the table. Susan leaned forward, intrigued by the design. The entire complex looked like a series of large two-story log cabins, with soaring chimneys and wide verandas wrapped around the exterior walls.
“This is the main structure where guests will be welcomed to the resort.” Cole pointed to the building at the end of a long driveway. “The entire complex has lake views, a low environmental impact, and uses local materials.”
Susan studied the layout. “It’s beautiful.”
He pointed to another large building. “This is where the restaurant and conference facilities will be. The restaurant seats eighty people inside, plus another forty under a veranda that can be used all year round.”
Susan looked at the floor plan. The kitchen was the perfect size, and its layout would make everything run smoothly. “This looks great. Most architects don’t know how to create a workable kitchen.”
“I hired a consultant who spent twenty years running resort restaurants.” Cole pointed to different areas. “She insisted on good ventilation, enough prep space, and an efficient design.”
Susan was even more impressed when she saw the 3D drawings of what the restaurant would look like. “I like everything you’ve done.”
Cole smiled. “Enough to apply for the executive chef position?”
Susan’s chest tightened. This was everything she’d left behind in Georgia. “I moved to Montana to get away from that kind of pressure.”
“I understand. But this wouldn’t be like a regular restaurant. You’d work reasonable hours, have good support, and we’d make it sustainable for the staff. We want people who stay because they love it.”
Susan thought about Paul’s kitchen at the Lakeside Grill. The way he’d deliberately created a smaller, more manageable operation after burning out in San Francisco.
“Wouldn’t you prefer someone who’s run restaurants? Like Paul Renard at the Lakeside Grill?”
Cole’s eyebrows rose. “I’ve eaten there, and the food is great.” He paused. “Do you think he’d be interested?”
Susan hesitated. “I don’t know. But he has the experience you’re looking for.”
