I deserved an extra cream cake when I got to heaven for not rolling my eyes.
“In fact, we were wondering about having the reception at Blue. Or at least I was. She’s angling for somewhere grander. Or abroad.”
Phillip had been kind. He’d been encouraging when I was younger and to a large extent, he’d made the world my oyster. If the pearl hadn’t been shiny enough he would’ve found a way to replace it. As seedy as our relationship had seemed to some people, he’d genuinely enhanced my life. We divorced because we’d both outgrown each other: he liked his women younger and a little more dependant. I was no longer feeling the appeal of being arm candy. It had been amicable, enough for him to be the initial investor in Blue.
“Maybe it would be a little strange for her to have her reception in her husband’s ex-wife’s restaurant.” It was a fair point. “Going to see your investments is different.”
“You’re possibly right, Simone. As usual. How are things in your life? I really hope you’re dating. Say the word and I’ll see that your ex-husband doesn’t step foot out of incarceration. Not alive anyway.”
Phillip had never gotten over that my second husband, Eliot, had tried to treat me badly, and succeeded in some ways. I’d met Eliot through Phillip; he’d been a business acquaintance, another entrepreneur, and essentially charming. I wasn’t stupid; Eliot had been a snake with nice manners.
“I’ve started seeing someone.” I felt my heart start to palpitate as I said the words.
“Finally. Who?”
“He’s a chef at Mount Street.”
Phillip’s mouth turned up into a smile. “Which one?”
“Jack. I don’t think he’s using me for anything.”
Phillip shook his head. “Why would he. Simone? Unless he’s trying to advance his position and gain favouritism, which given he’s possibly your best chef, you’d be doing anyway to keep him in your business.”
This was true. Phillip had advised me before on retaining staff and Jack was someone we had talked about.
“You know I’m wary.”
He nodded. “I sometimes think that you’re too wary. There are very few Eliots in the world. It is okay to let your guard down and you know, if Jack turned out to be another Eliot, we’d still help pick you up.”
I gave a nod, needing to move the conversation on. “It’s only been one date. Tell me about your fiancée.”
He told me what I expected. She was young – twenty-three; she had graduated with a degree in art but was struggling to find work and he’d met her through a business function where she’d been part of the waiting on team.
“Which brings me to the Tipsy Toad. How far off opening are we?”
I raised my brows. Phillip was not short of money, but he was careful with it and invested wisely. Especially after our divorce, he’d taught me well as I’d had very little business knowledge.
“We’re six weeks away, provided I can either find a chef for there or someone to be split across both Toad Hall and Mount Street, covering Jack.” Jack was interested in tapas. He’d mentioned he would enjoy a change for a few months at least.
Phillip gave a short nod and a small sigh. “I’ll be honest with you, Simone. Once it’s up and running I’ll be interested in selling my investment in the Tipsy Toad and potentially Mount Street. Trina is keen to open a gallery and I’ll need some cash to play with.”
“What about Blue?”
He shook his head. “I still want an interest. It’s up to you how you do it. I know at the moment the restaurants are separate entities, but it might be worth considering merging their businesses so my investment would be in Wood Restaurants or whatever you call it. Or keep them separate. We can have a further meeting where we take some advice on the best way for you to go.”
“I get it.” I did. Phillip’s money for Toad Hall hadn’t been needed – I could’ve done it on my own - I simply felt more secure where he was involved, if I admitted it.
“Tell me more about the Tipsy Toad. Where are we up to? And profits on Mount Street.”
We began our usual conversation, me talking him through the accounts and the quality issues we’d had if any, staffing problems and how we were looking for the income stream over the next few months, taking into account trends and bookings.
“You’re doing well, Simone.” He closed his notebook. “You should be proud of yourself. Maybe you can live a little. Delegate. Have you advertised for a restaurant manager for the Tipsy Toad?’ He refused to call it Toad Hall.
I shook my head. “To do list for this week. Phillip?” Never since our divorce had I spoken to him about his relationships. I didn’t think I was one to give advice.
“This sounds ominous.” He smiled, showing perfectly white, perfectly straight teeth. He’d had work done there too.
“Trina. Are you sure she’s marrying you for the right reasons?”
