One of Forbes’s brows arched up. “No one has ever asked you to be something you’re not.”
Meredith matched his crossed-arm stance. “Really? Then why is Mom still mad that I bought a house that needed to be renovated—and that I chose to do it myself?” Moisture burned her eyes, but she blinked it away. “No one in this family really knows me, knows who I am—except Anne—and I’m tired of having to hide behind this veneer of the perfect daughter, the one who never stands up for herself, the one who always defers to someone else’s decision or opinion.” She caught her breath before she hyperventilated. “I’m tired of constantly trying to please everyone else. And I know that sounds selfish, and maybe I am. But that’s what’s ‘up’ with me today.”
Sadness filled her brother’s blue-gray eyes. “I wish you’d said something before you got to the point where this has hurt you so much.” He reached for her, but Meredith stepped back.
The hurt expression that replaced the sadness nearly made Meredith feel guilty. “I’m sorry, but I need space. I need time—time away from being with the family every waking minute—to figure out who I really am, to figure out what it is I truly want out of life.”
Forbes looked as if he wanted to argue, but he restrained himself at great effort. “I understand. And I’ll try to cover for you with the family while you sort things through. But I hope you know that I’m here for you—for the
“Thanks.” She smiled, keeping her lips pressed tightly together to keep the bottom one from quivering. Not wanting to leave things between them quite so tense, she cast around for something to lighten the mood.
Of course.
“Oh, and I’d like to also thank you for not saying anything to the family about Friday night. I already know that rumors are going to get around at the office—since he picked me up there and several people saw him.” Including Major, which still wrenched Meredith’s heart. “But I’d rather not have the family know just yet that I went out on a date.”
Forbes tried his best to look offended. “I? You think that I would immediately run off and tell everyone that I caught you out on a date with someone we’ve never met before?” Humor danced around his mouth. “I’ll make you a deal. You tell me all about him, and I’ll keep it to myself until you’re ready for the family to know.”
She sighed and shook her head. Change wasn’t going to come easily. She just hoped she was up for the challenge.
Chapter 10
“Please tell me my face isn’t really that puffy.”
“No, Chef.”
“Of course not, Chef.”
Somehow, Major didn’t believe Steven and Jana’s denials. There, for all of Bonneterre to see, his pudgy face filled the TV screen. Sure, the antique-reproduction wardrobe behind him looked good. The bright lights hadn’t washed him out as much in the burgundy coat as it would have if he’d worn the white one, but he couldn’t deny that he looked like a chipmunk on an acorn binge.
“I don’t think I can watch the rest of this. Y’all can stay and watch the whole thing, but don’t forget, we have lunch service going on right now.”
Eyes glued to the TV, his sous chef and head server waved him out of his own office.
“You can handle it, boss.” Steven moved from the edge of the desk into Major’s chair without even looking at him.
Indeed, the kitchen and waitstaff had Monday lunch service well under control. Major headed out into the main room and walked from table to table, chatting with regulars and introducing himself to those he’d never met before. News about this year-old project seemed to be spreading around downtown, and people working in nearby buildings had started coming to Vue de Ceil for weekday lunches, since they would probably never get another chance to see the famed event venue. After all, this was where local-boy-turned-movie-star Cliff Ballantine had held his wedding reception last year.
Not only was Major happy his idea had proved a good one, making him look even better to the Guidrys, but he was happy that it had allowed people like Steven and Jana—who’d been his most loyal part-timers—to work for him full-time instead of just when he needed them for events. And the Guidrys had been happy to put Vue de Ceil to use five days a week, instead of having it sitting empty for weeks and even months at a time.
If only he could have this kind of success in the restaurant’s first year. His stomach twisted. That had been a line of questioning he hadn’t expected from Alaine Delacroix last week. Obviously, Mrs. Guidry had filled the reporter in on every aspect of it except one: that Major hadn’t officially accepted the offer yet.
A flicker of light to his left caught his attention. One set of the reflective elevator doors slid open to reveal Anne Hawthorne, along with several other people—including Meredith. Major tugged the hem of his coat to straighten it and resisted the urge to run his fingers through his hair.
In a bright blue sweater, Meredith reminded him of a soothing waterfall. He tried to smile at her when she looked over at him; she smiled back but glanced away again quickly. Avoiding her at church yesterday had been easy, since he always went to the early service and a late Sunday school class; and looking at her now, he couldn’t help but see her standing next to that guy Friday night, dressed to the nines and looking too beautiful for words.
He met them at the perimeter of the room.
“As you can see,” Meredith told the potential clients, “Vue de Ceil definitely has enough capacity to host your event, with room to seat everyone at four- and eight-person tables, if that’s what you want.” She barely spared Major a glance, as if embarrassed to meet his eye again.
Anne stepped forward. “This is Major O’Hara, executive chef for all events held at Boudreaux-Guidry properties.” Anne introduced her clients—a bride who appeared to be hardly out of high school, along with her parents, future mother-in-law, and a couple of grandmothers.
“Oh yes! I was at the New Year’s ball just a few days ago,” the future mother-in-law gushed. “What a wonderful spread of food. If that’s the quality we can look forward to, I definitely recommend this place.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Why wouldn’t Meredith look at him? “It’s my goal to try to serve the best food possible at every event—to make it delicious and memorable.”
“That’s just what we want,” said the mother of the bride. She turned to Anne. “When do you think we can get this booked and set up the menu?”
Anne raised her eyebrows in question to Meredith.
“We can go back down to my office now and look at dates for your event. Once we have that scheduled, Chef O’Hara will develop several sample menus for you to choose from. After that, we’ll set up a tasting.”
This seemed to please everyone, and Meredith herded them back to the elevator.
“Are we still on for two o’clock tomorrow afternoon?” Anne asked, slowly bringing up the rear of the group.
“Yeah.” Major frowned. Something was definitely wrong with Meredith. Was she afraid he was going to ask her about her date Friday? “I’ll bring the cost analyses for the menus we talked about.”
Anne nodded. “All right. I’ll see you then.” She glanced over her shoulder at Meredith, who was engrossed in listening to something one of the grandmothers said. “Yes, we have a lot to talk about.” The elevator whisked her away before Major could ask her to clarify that last statement.
Shaking his head, he went back to the kitchen. Steven and Jana came out of his office laughing, though their amusement died as soon as they saw him.
“Great interview, Chef.” Steven smirked.
Jana elbowed Steven hard enough to send him off balance. “It was a good interview. But why didn’t you tell us you’re starting a restaurant?”
Major groaned. So much for asking Alaine not to include that part in what she aired. “It’s not a done deal. I’m still thinking about it.”
“What’s to think about?” Jana’s eyes widened. “Chef, it’s a great opportunity. You’d be wonderful at running a restaurant. And there are a lot of folks here who’d love to work in a restaurant owned by you.”
Major studied Steven’s face. Was his second in command thinking about the day when he’d be running this
