Midlife Do Over

Satisfied, Devon nodded and took a step back to wave us all inside. He hung back and fell into step beside me. “I’ve hired an amazing chef who is the perfect blend of modern fine dining and southern home cooking. She’s from Knoxville, but trained in New York and Italy. She’s also provided me with a mile-long list of kitchen staff.” Devon nodded to the stack of papers on the bar. “I’ve got more applications than I can handle, which brings me to the most important hiring decision. Front of House manager.”

I paused and quirked a smile at him. “More important than the chef?”

Devon shrugged. “Good food doesn’t matter if the service is crappy or there aren’t enough waitresses to meet demand.”

“Good point.” One I hadn’t thought about. “What do you need from me?”

Devon froze and stared at me like I’d grown a third eye. “This person will have to be someone you trust, someone you can get along with, especially if you plan to stick around for the foreseeable future.”

Oh. Right. “Make sure it’s a local who knows how things work around here. Someone with restaurant experience and someone who won’t just say yes to me even when I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about.”

“Seriously? You want me to hire the person for this position?”

“Why not? You hired the chef.”

“That’s because you wouldn’t know good food if it jumped off the plate and bit you.” His smile softened his harsh, but true, words. “You can sample her cooking if you’re curious.”

“I will, but later though. I trust you.”

“This place is stunning,” Margot practically shouted across the empty dining room.

At her words, I was finally able to give the place my full attention. Devon had done his damnedest to bring my vision to life, and he’d succeeded beyond my wildest dreams. The Dark Horse dining room was a strange mix of old school saloon and modern fine dining with dark wood tables and matching floors, the long bar was a shade darker than the other wood finishes, drawing the eye first. The chairs were heavy with burgundy leather upholstery and decorative wooden studs instead of metal or brass. Dim lighting gave the place a cool, exclusive feel and the fancy wiry chandeliers that hung above each table let you know this was a place where you could expect great food for your money.

“Well? Don’t leave me hanging, boss.”

I smiled at Devon. “I love it.”

“You do?” He looked around and pointed at the mirrored bar stacked six shelves high, the leather stools bolted to the floor in front of the bar. The wildflowers inside small wooden vases in the center of each table. “You love it?”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “I wouldn’t have picked this stuff myself. Hell, I wouldn’t have known to pick it, but it all works. You did a good job, Devon. A really good job.”

His shoulders sank in relief. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“I’m happier to be able to say it.” There was so much that went into opening a restaurant and I didn’t know half of what I needed to, not yet, but I would. As soon as the tour was over and I came home for good. “What are we looking at for opening day?”

“A month or two? First I have to hire a manager and together we’ll have to hire front of house staff, settle the menu and specials. Shouldn’t be too long after you get back.”

I did a double take at his words. “Me? Why do I have to be around for that?”

“Because, Dark Horse, you are the main attraction. People will show up just for a chance to lay eyes on the quietest Gregory brother, and hopefully they’ll stay for a steak, a bottle of whiskey or a three course meal.”

Ah, dammit. “Right.” It was high time I got used to being part of the sideshow. I’d spent my entire career doing it in the background, happy to let Derek and Roman soak up the spotlight. But this business was mine, which meant the song and dance for customers was mine to perform.

It was a small price to pay for a much-needed distraction from the fact that I was getting too old to be on tour nonstop.

Chapter 2

Pippa

~ Today

“It shouldn’t have come down to this, Pippa.” Josh sat across a small table and looked at me with disappointed eyes, a look that had, for years, compelled me to work harder and longer hours, to do my absolute best to impress him. Today that look only fired up the anger that had mostly subsided over the past two months. “If you had just let me fire you and left quietly, you’d still be able to work in this town.”

I laughed. “Oh please, Josh. Don’t act like I’m the only one that took a big hit with your attempts to blackball me. Sure some of the chefs who prefer to run their kitchens with a heavy dose of abuse don’t want to deal with me, but how many restaurants want to hire your former golden boy?” I looked at my lawyer who sat beside me with a stoic expression and shook my head. “I mean, it’s lunchtime in downtown, and there are what, maybe five tables occupied today? Seems to me you fired the wrong person.”