My mouth closed. The board?
“What is it?”
“A company wants to contract to use our kitchen in the off-season. Weird, right? Never thought about that before.”
Several moments passed before I could assemble that in my head.
“Wait. What?”
He shrugged. “Apparently kitchen space is at a premium, and we have that paperwork filed with the state. Companies will rent out kitchens to do bulk orders. Anyway, it’s a health-food granola company starting out of Jackson City. You’ve been on me for a while to use Adventura in different ways, right? They’ll pay us to use the kitchen.”
What were the odds?
Was this a coincidence?
“Also,” Mark continued as he tossed a wad of paper into the air, “I had an idea about horses, but ask me about that later.”
My throat felt sticky as I tried to form the words. Mark wouldn’t be angry about my idea to do basically the same thing, but he might be upset that I’d not mentioned it to him before. Or that I’d signed that contract without his permission.
The whole we-live-each-other’s-lives thing always got in the way.
“So, about that idea.” I cleared my throat. “It’s a great idea, actually. Ah . . . I sort of just signed a contract on behalf of Adventura’s kitchen and have a proposal for you that’s similar.”
He paused mid-throw.
“What?”
With a deep breath, I said, “I . . . I’ve been experimenting for the past few months with some bakery recipes. Patisserie stuff. Petit fours, croissants, that sort of thing. One day while in Jackson City, I stopped at Le Grand Boulangerie and tried a few things. The owners and I started to talk. Eventually they mentioned that they wanted to start catering but didn’t have the space.”
Mark stared at me with a glass expression, which was the first red flag. Mark’s face always showed emotion. The absence of it was reason enough to run.
Second, his jaw was ticking.
Deciding that getting it over with was best, I pushed through the worst part.
“I told them I’d like to try making some of their recipes to see if I could help them out, so they sent some with me. As you said, we have paperwork filed with the state health department for our kitchen that allows us to make commercial food, so I tried a few things—tarts, cakes, cupcakes—and took it back to them.” I shrugged. “They liked what they saw. So they asked if I’d like to partner with them.”
His other eyebrow rose. “Partner with them?” he repeated dully.
“Just in catering. They’ve wanted to open up to big catering orders but don’t have the space. You know how cramped downtown Jackson City is. So they’re looking into a build-out or buying space somewhere else. But they’d like to test the process and build their revenue. They liked the way I baked—”
“—so they want you to cater from Adventura.”
I hated it when he connected the dots ahead of me. His toneless voice sounded so much like Dad’s did when we got busted for doing something stupid.
“Yes. I thought I’d give Adventura a cut of each order. That way I can work and climb and still help out here but actually make some money. Eventually, I have to figure out my own life. This may be the path to that.”
Mark frowned. “How long has this been going on?”
“Two months?”
His eyes widened. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“You’ve been so focused on everything else. I didn’t know if this would go anywhere. I mean, c’mon, Mark. You’ve eaten a little of everything that I fixed. It’s not like I hid it.”
“But you did. For two months you’ve been sneaking behind my back with plans you never shared with me.”
He stood, hands planted on the desk. The defensive posture wasn’t unexpected. Mark had anger, but not aggression. He had the weight and strength advantage, but not speed or stamina. For brothers, we’re strangely well matched in a fight. This could definitely come to fists.
Stupider things had in the past.
“I haven’t been hiding it,” I said. “I just haven’t been discussing it. I’ve tried to bring it up a few times, but the best I was able to do was mention doing something else with Adventura. Then something always came up to distract you.”
He shook his head and took a step back, raising his hands. “I’m done, bro. This is insulting. First of all, it’s not yours to contract out.”
“I know that, and I’m sorry. They sort of sprung the contract on me and I didn’t want to lose the chance. I hate the idea of not having a job all winter, and Adventura is largely your idea. I love helping with it, but it’s your baby.”
“Well, now you may be in breach of contract with the bakery. Hope there’s no fine associated with that. Also, screw you for not claiming Adventura. This was for both of us. The board has to approve your contract, by the way. What are you going to do in the summer when we need the kitchen to feed the staff and the campers?”
“I haven’t worked through that yet.”
“And are you giving up your position as a counselor?”
I ran a hand through my hair. “No, of course not.”
“So how’s that going to work?”
“I-I don’t know yet.”
“But you signed a contract anyway.” His eyes flashed. “After going behind my back to partner with someone else. Douchebag move, brother.”
With a growl, he stormed out the back door. The screen slammed against the wall with a crack, then whipped shut.
I winced, stung at the betrayal in his expression.
27 Lizbeth
The fire crackled the next morning as I sat on my bed and stared at the ceiling. My conversation with Ellie had played through my mind all night. Finally, at four thirty, I’d built up the fire and mentally thanked Justin for restocking my woodpile. Then I’d sat in a ball of blankets and tried to disappear into a romance
