“I don’t want this deal.”
“Sebastian, don’t be hasty.” Juliette’s voice is edged with frantic worry. “Listen, I agree, these aren’t good numbers, but it’s just an initial proposal. Let’s meet these guys and express our concerns, and they can work on them.”
“Juliette, I don’t think I care enough. You know what? Daniel was right about this deal. It’s too much to take on, especially when my focus should be here.”
“Please,” she snaps. “That’s not what this is about. This is about your precious threesome with Jessica Rabbit.”
I hold back my angry retort with difficulty. I’ve just realized that Katya’s sitting right next to me, and though she’s making a valiant effort to look like she’s not listening with bated breath to this conversation, she is. “This isn’t about Bailey,” I grit out. “This is about you finding the wrong partners for this deal, Juliette. I’m not interested in working with someone whose values are so diametrically opposed to mine.”
“I’ll call them,” she says. “I’ll be in touch.”
I hang up, shaking my head. It’ll take her a while to realize I’m not playing ball, but she’ll get the message eventually.
Katya clears her throat once I’m off the phone. “Umm, Chef, I didn’t mean to overhear your conversation…”
“But you heard every word.” I wave it aside before she can start to apologize. “It’s not your fault, this office is the size of a shoe-closet.”
“Yeah,” she agrees. “I guess the rumor mill was right. You are going to leave us to run a mass-market chain.”
“It’s by no means a done deal, Katya, as you probably heard.”
She bites her lip and doesn’t look at me. “Please don’t go, Chef. Ben’s insane. He’ll drive this place into the ground.” She gulps. “I’ve been working the front for five years. I’ve worked crazy hours, day in and day out because I believe in what we are doing here. We care about food. We care about people.” She looks unhappy. “Ben doesn’t give a shit, Chef. I hear the talk from the line cooks. He does the bare minimum at prep. He’s disorganized, he’s messy and when you are not here, he shows up reeking of alcohol.”
“Really? No one’s said anything.”
Her fingers play with her hair in a nervous gesture. “The staff won’t complain about Ben to you, Chef. They don’t think you’ll support them against him.”
I give her an astonished look. “Why?”
She squares her shoulders. “In for a penny, in for a pound, right?” she asks. “You didn’t fire Ben when he was a lazy line cook. You promoted him to sous-chef when he wasn’t ready, and when his kitchen was floundering, you put Helen in charge of Seb II so you could pay him personal attention.”
Fuck. She’s right. She’s absolutely correct.
I’ve been living in the past. Something about Ben reminds me of my struggles during the early days in Manhattan, and so I’ve overlooked many instances of bad behavior that should have got him fired. Heck, even Daniel has told me to get rid of him.
This franchise deal is another example. I wanted so much for there to be a restaurant with my name on it in Hattiesburg. I ached to go back and fix the wounds of the past. And in my relentless focus on what’s behind me, I’ve failed to appreciate what I have. A loyal staff, some of whom I’ve known since I moved to the city. Two profitable restaurants, a rarity in Manhattan. A best friend, Daniel, who is about the most amazing partner that I could ever ask for, and a woman, Bailey, who has, in a very short period of time, become one of the most important people in my life.
I have everything, but I’ve been too lost in the angst and in my own perceived inadequacies to notice.
I sit up, and it seems like a weight lifts off my shoulders as I make a decision. “Katya? Those rumor mills are wrong. I’m not going anywhere.”
A smile breaks out on her face, wide and delighted. When I see it, I know I’ve made the right choice. I belong here. This is my home.