“I do think that you need to go to the interview and at least hear Whitmore out, though. See the kitchen and the dining room. Understand what it is you would be losing if you didn’t do it. And,” Jen added seriously, “you really need to talk to Grey about this.”
“I know,” Lauren whispered, her stomach twisting at the thought. The noise in the kitchen beyond the locker room door became louder, and she shook her head as she hurriedly rolled her sleeves to her elbows. It was time to go to work. “I’ll talk to her about it tomorrow.”
“You can call her now, if you want. I’ll cover for you.”
Lauren shook her head. “No. Thank you, though. This is…this is not a five-minute conversation, and she’s having dinner with a friend tonight. I’ll just talk to her tomorrow afternoon when she calls. And, besides…”
“You don’t know what you’re going to do yet,” Jen finished for her.
Lauren smiled sadly and nodded. “Yeah.”
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
LAUREN HAD NO better idea of what she was going to do by the time she arrived at Café Belle the next morning, and her first real look at the restaurant did little to add any clarity to her thinking. The facilities were impressive—the dining room was of decent size, cozy, yet intimate, and the kitchen was a chef’s dream with its surprisingly large footprint and gleaming, top-of-the-line equipment—and Lauren found herself liking Jason Whitmore as he gave her a quick tour before beginning they sat down to talk. He was an older gentleman, with salt-and-pepper hair, an infectious smile, and an obvious love for the industry, and she could tell after spending only ten minutes with him that he would be a joy to work for.
After the brief tour the settled down at a table near the kitchen to begin the actual interview process. Lauren tried not to look too pleased when he rattled off the finer points of her résumé from memory, including the mention she had received inNew York Magazineearlier that year, and she fielded his initial questions easily. She had strong ties to local vendors, so she knew who had the best product at the best price, and had no problem offering up sample seasonal menu ideas. His smile grew wider with every answer she gave, everything about his demeanor telling her that ‘yes, you are the one’, which made her feel more and more queasy.
She still had no idea if this was even what she wanted anymore.
“I must say, I have been quite impressed with your answers so far, and I think you will make a most excellent addition to our staff.” Whitmore leaned back in his chair and played with the stem of his water glass. “I just have one more question for you, if you don’t mind.”
Lauren nodded and folded her hands on the table. “Of course.”
He smiled. “Tell me about your favorite meal you cooked. Who was it for, and what was the menu?”
Lauren’s drifted to a quiet night in Hawksnest Bay and the feeling of Grey’s arms around her waist, as soft lips brushed lightly over her neck, teasing the marks that had been left there. She remembered the way Grey smiled at her and the way the brunette’s eyes burned with a quiet affection as they ate at the counter, legs brushing together as, even after an afternoon of making love, they had been unable to resist touching each other some more. She remembered the way she felt when Grey confessed to being genuinely happy, how their being together helped her feel whole. She remembered their astronomy lesson, making out under the stars, and the aching softness of Grey’s hands on her later that night, every touch a silent declaration of deeper emotions neither of them had felt comfortable confessing at the time.
“I…” Lauren cleared her throat softly. She finally had her answer and, to be honest, it was one that she had known in her heart all along. “I’m afraid, sir, that my favorite meal had nothing to do with the food and everything to do with the woman I made it for. The meal itself was simple—lightly seared Ahi steaks that I had rubbed with a ginger-wasabi blend and some jasmine rice on the side—but the company…” Her voice trailed off again, and she flashed him an apologetic smile. “If you had called me about this position two months ago, I would have jumped at the opportunity. Your restaurant really is incredible. This dining room—” she waved a hand around them, “—gorgeous. The kitchen is a chef’s dream.” She shook her head and sighed. “But it’s not my dream anymore, I’m afraid.”
“I see,” Whitmore murmured. His smile turned softer, and he nodded. “I met my wife the summer before I was to study abroad at Oxford for a year, and I know that look in your eyes well. Young love certainly does leave a special glow on us all. I must admit that I am disappointed you will not be joining Café Belle, but I do understand. If you ever change your mind and decide that this is something you are interested in pursuing, please do not hesitate to give me a call.”
Lauren smiled, touched by his offer. He really was a rare gem of a man in an industry as cut-throat as theirs. “Of course. Thank you, sir.”
“Jason, please.” He stood and held out his hand. “I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors, Chef Murphy.”
Lauren took a deep breath and she shook his hand. “Thank you.”
Somehow, Lauren was not surprised to find Jen waiting on a bench outside the restaurant when she stepped onto the sidewalk, and she smiled as she caught her eye. “Are you stalking me?”
“I am.” Jen grinned and nodded. “So…how’d it go?”
“Really, really well,” Lauren said, glancing over her shoulder at the glass door behind her. She tucked her hair behind her ears and sighed as she turned back toward Jen. “But I turned him down.”
Jen arched a brow in surprise, though she really was not all that surprised. She had known this day was coming ever since Lauren came back into the kitchen after wishing Grey a happy New Year, looking like she had been kicked in the gut because she did not get to ring it in with a kiss. “You turned him down?”
“I know, Jen.” Lauren interrupted her with a smile. “I do.” She took a deep breath and smiled as, for the first time since she landed back in New York, she finally had a clear idea of what she wanted. “Believe me, I know what I just did. I just…” She shrugged. “I don’t want this anymore.”
“Well, fuck,” Jen muttered, smiling as she shook her head. “So what are you going to do?”
“I dunno.”
Jen chuckled. “Bullshit. You’ve made up your mind. I can see it in your eyes. Say it, Lo.”
“I want Grey.” Just saying it out loud made Lauren feel lighter than she had since she returned to New York, and she threw her head back and laughed. “I want Grey. I want to spend my days sailing around the Caribbean with her. I want to wake up in her arms every morning, listening to the sound of the ocean slapping against the hull of the boat.”
Jen nodded and pulled Lauren into a quick hug. “I’m glad you’ve finally figured it out.”
“I have,” Lauren whispered.
