“Hopefully they’ll come for my food, not for my jokes,” she said. “I’m okay with the first, but I can barely keep up with the second.”
Logan shook his head once. “When I’m finished with your restaurant, you won’t need to settle. You’ll be famous, lass.” He winked. “Shall I show you around?”
They walked through the ruined gate under the ancient walls into a green, sunlit courtyard with four crumbled towers that rose at its corners. Even looking at them, Kate still couldn’t believe she was actually in Scotland.
“I’m so fortunate you picked Deli Luck,” she said, her insides vibrating with excitement. “When my sister, Mandy, told me we won—”
“Your sister?” Logan glanced at her with curiosity. “They called your sister first?”
“Yes. She applied. I had no idea. If she’d told me from the beginning, I’d have locked her up in the storage room until she changed her mind. Never in my life would I have thought you’d pick us.”
Kate was surprised Mandy had taken such initiative, considering the depression she struggled with sometimes kept her from getting out of bed at all.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Aye, Deli Luck isn’t exactly what we normally go for. It’s too American. Too traditional. And that’s where, I think, the problem lies. You’re too safe with your burgers, spareribs, and fries, aren’t you?”
Kate’s neck burned and she looked down. She picked at a rock with the point of her boot and kicked it as they walked. Those had been her exact thoughts right from the beginning. It was her clients who had forced her to abandon the creative pot roast with a Thai coconut sauce, quinoa burgers, and spareribs masala. She’d wanted to combine unusual with traditional since the beginning. As the owner and the chef, she was ashamed to admit to him that the community had pressured her into changing her menu.
And now, bankruptcy threatened Deli Luck in about a month if nothing changed.
“That’s what the market in Cape Haute, New Jersey, wants, Logan,” she said. “They don’t want anything different.”
“True. But what you have is too familiar. That’s why you’re barely makin’ ends meet. You need to find that fine line between old and new. That’s where I come in. Dinna worry, lass. You’re a family restaurant, right? Tell me how you started.”
Kate put her hands in the pockets of her jeans, something she always did when she felt uncomfortable. Talking about her past hurt. She’d never even discussed their childhood with Mandy, let alone reveal things to a stranger.
“I never knew my dad. My mom died when I was eighteen. To support my sister and myself, I worked in local restaurants. I cooked my whole life, and people love my food. After a couple of years, some locals loaned me money to open my own place. In a way, it’s a community restaurant. I haven’t repaid them all yet. That’s where the biggest chunk of income is going to. Your show helping us with renovations and the whole new design of the menu and billboards and all that—that’s going to be exactly what we need to save the restaurant from the bankruptcy.”
Bankruptcy would mean losing the whole building—including the apartment where Kate, Mandy, and Jax lived. The three of them would be on the streets. Mandy wouldn’t have her antidepressant meds and the therapy she needed to stay afloat. They wouldn’t be able to send Jax to a decent school and make sure he got medical care if he needed it.
This show was Kate’s last hope.
“A community-funded restaurant.” He narrowed his eyes and studied her with curiosity. “Great story. But don’t you feel like they own you?”
Kate chuckled, her cheeks heating up. “Of course they own me. Hence burgers, ribs, and fries.”
He tilted his head back and laughed. “This is goin’ to be a fabulous show. When they find out what I have planned—it’s goin’ to be a Boston Tea Party in New Jersey.”
Kate hugged herself. She wanted to stand out, to be liked because she was different. Instead, she’d spent her whole life trying desperately to be liked because she fit in.
And look where it had gotten her.
She chuckled. “As long as Deli Luck turns out to be a new independent country afterward…”
He tilted his head back and laughed. When he looked at her again, his eyes became intense, taking her in as though he were peeling off her clothes. Kate chided herself for imagining a star like Logan would be interested in her.
“You’re a bonnie lass, aren’t you?” he mumbled and took a step towards her.
Kate tensed, physically making herself stay in place and not back away from him. She opened her mouth to make a joke out of it when his phone rang.
“I need to take this, lass.” He lifted the phone to his ear and walked to the other side of the courtyard towards the big gate.
Kate exhaled, the tension in her muscles softening. She wasn’t used to being treated kindly. And he had no reason to be nice to her other than to make a great show.
She looked around. What a beautiful, mysterious place this was. She agreed with Logan—if those stones could talk, they’d tell many stories. What would cooking in a medieval kitchen be like? What dishes did they make in the past? What spices and kitchenware did they use? Her stomach growled with hunger. Thank goodness she always packed food with her—the aftereffect of her childhood.
Kate was a hoarder. Well, not literally. Mainly, she hoarded food in her stomach and fat on her thighs. She never knew if she really was hungry or if she just felt panicked to stock up while food was available. Something she’d done ever since she was little.
Kate opened her bag and fetched one of the BLTs she’d made for her and for Logan. It was made with fresh ciabatta bread, crispy bacon she’d
