As my team packed up, I felt a spark of something that might have been hope. This could work. The Sofia partnership, the focus on quality, the personal touch. The things corporate chains couldn't replicate.
It had to work.
Because the alternative was giving up, and I'd never been great at that.
My phone rang when I was outside loading the van. Unknown number.
"Coogan's Catering, this is Nadia."
"Ms. Becker, this is Samantha Morrison from Elevate Events." The voice was smooth and professional, with an edge of steel underneath. "I was hoping we could discuss a business opportunity."
My stomach dropped. "What kind of opportunity?"
"We're very impressed with your operation. Your reputation in Coogan's Break is excellent. We'd like to discuss bringing you into the Elevate family. Not as a buyout, but as our regional manager for Northern California. Excellent salary, benefits, and the resources of a national company behind you."
It was a fair offer. Better than that. It was everything I'd need to take care of my family and stop worrying about making payroll.
"I'm not interested in selling," I said, my response measured.
"We're not asking you to sell. We're offering you a promotion. Your business becomes the Elevate Events Coogan's Break location, you get a management contract, your staff keeps their jobs, and you get the support of a national brand."
"At the cost of my independence."
"But with the benefit of stability." Samantha's voice took on a warmer tone. "Ms. Becker, I've done my research. Sixty-hour weeks. Payroll every second Friday. Family obligations that don't shrink when revenue does. Small operators carry all of it alone, and they don't have to. What if you didn't have to?"
I felt cold. She hadn't named a thing. Not my parents, not the tax bill, not Holly's kids. She'd drawn the outline and left me to fill it in, and I'd filled it in instantly, which meant she'd known I would.
"I'm not trying to pressure you," she said into my silence. "I'm offering you an option. Think about it. We'll be in touch."
She hung up before I could respond.
I stood there in the parking lot, phone in hand, feeling like the walls were closing in. She hadn't mentioned my parents. She hadn't mentioned Holly. She'd said nothing at all, and yet I'd heard every word.
This wasn't business. This was surgical.
NINE
DAEMON
I knew something was wrong when Nadia didn't answer my texts.
The first one at lunch went unanswered. Fine, she was busy. The second, at three, asked if she still wanted me to cook tonight. Her reply was one word: Yes.
Not can't wait or looking forward to it, not even one of her teasing comments about my cooking skills. Just yes.
By five o'clock, I was pacing Sofia's garden, phone in hand, trying to talk myself out of showing up at Nadia's commercial kitchen uninvited.
"You're going to wear a path in my grass," Sofia called from her back steps, where she was dead-heading roses.
"Sorry." I stopped pacing but couldn't stand still. "I was thinking."
"About Nadia?" She snipped another spent bloom. "Don't play dumb with me, Daemon Booth. You've checked your phone every five minutes since you got home."
There was no point in denying it. Sofia saw everything. "Something's off. She's not acting like herself."
"Then go to her." Sofia straightened, one hand on her lower back. "When you care about someone, you show up. Especially when they're pulling away."
"What if she doesn't want me to show up?"
