Logan took his license back from Carl and began to walk away.
“I could make your life hell,” Carl called out.
“If you want to lose your job, go ahead.” Logan didn’t look back. “The next time you stop me you better have a damn good reason for doing so, otherwise I will be talking to my attorney.”
“In that case, you better watch out,” Carl shouted as Logan opened the door to his SUV. “People like you always slip up. You think you’re better than the rest of us. That the rules don’t apply to you.”
Gritting his teeth, Logan climbed into the driver’s seat, slamming the door behind him. He had nothing else to say to Carl Roberts. The man was fucking power-drunk.
And right now, he needed to get back to Boston.
“That went better than expected.” Paris pulled the cork from a dusty bottle of expensive Cabernet, as they sat in the almost-finished restaurant a few days later. “I thought they were going to give us more bad news. But now we can really start planning for the opening.” She poured them both a glass of the ruby red wine. “Here you go, cheers.”
“Cheers.” Logan lifted the glass to his lips, savoring the dark fruity bouquet. Though they had a professional who bought all the wines for their restaurants, he still took an interest in the suppliers. Last year, he’d spent a few days at the Crock Ham Estate in California, tasting the results of the previous year’s vintage. One of the selling points of their restaurants was their attention to detail. Everything had to be perfect. And they charged accordingly.
“Alicia is coming in tomorrow to finalize the plans for opening night,” Paris said, looking at him over the rim of her glass. Alicia Duvall was their go-to event planner, and a well known figure in the Boston social scene. She and Paris were close friends. “Can you believe it’s only three and a half weeks away? I know we’ve had that date in mind forever, but it feels like we have so much to do.” Paris widened her eyes in mock-surprise. “We have to have the final tasting this weekend. The chef will need that time to make sure he has all the ingredients and train the staff. Shall we do it on Saturday?”
“I’m busy on Saturday.” Logan ran the pad of his finger along his jaw. It was rough from a day’s beard growth. “Courtney’s visiting.”
“As in Courtney, your baby mama?” Paris asked. “Does she even know what an airplane is?”
“Don’t call her that.” Logan frowned. “And of course she knows what a plane is.”
“I wasn’t sure she’d want to leave the exciting town y’all come from.” Paris exaggerated a country drawl. “But you should bring her to the tasting. The more the merrier. I’ll ask a gang as well, get their feedback.” She smiled.
Logan looked at her for a minute, trying to decide whether she was being a bitch or not. “Okay,” he said slowly. “I’ll bring her.”
“Good.” Paris nodded. “It’s about time we met. I’ll get to look her over, show her how busy the restaurant business is. That way when you need to work rather than bathe a screaming baby she’ll understand.”
“About that.” Logan ran his finger around the rim of his half-empty wine glass. “I’m looking for a house to buy in Hartson’s Creek.”
Paris blinked, the smile melting from her lips. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’m planning on spending more time there once the baby comes. Maybe before.” He met her confused gaze. “You mentioned before about us bringing on another partner. This might be a good time to do it.”
“What the hell are you going to do in bumbfuck Virginia?” Paris asked, incredulous. “You’ll go crazy in about five minutes. There’s a reason you left Hartson’s Creek. You’re too big for that place. You couldn’t run a restaurant like this there,” she said, pointing at the almost-finished furnishings.
“I know that. But I want to spend time with Courtney and our baby when she or he arrives. And I can’t do that from here.”
“She’s hardly into the second trimester,” Paris pointed out. “There’s plenty of time to think about the future.” Putting her glass down on the counter, she sighed. “Look, there’s no way we can find someone to buy into the business until this place is up and running. They’ll want to see the accounts, a profit, all of that stuff. And besides, neither of us has time to look for the right person right now.” She tipped her head to the side, her eyes scanning Logan’s face. “How about we revisit this after the restaurant is open. If you still want to do it, then we’ll start looking.” She shrugged. “Though I think you’re crazy.”
Everything she said made sense. Apart from the crazy part. “Okay, we’ll revisit then,” he agreed, though he knew he wouldn’t change his mind. He was already counting down the time until he could hold Courtney in his arms again. Next weekend. That’s all the time he had to wait until he could bury his face in her fragrant curls. Until he could press his body against hers until everything in his life made sense again.
“Good.” Paris finished her wine. “Now come on. We’ve got work to do.”
The last time Courtney had been on an airplane was when she was eighteen, right after graduating from high school. She’d flown to upstate New York to be a camp counselor. She could still remember the feeling of intense excitement, peppered with anxiety as she walked through
