A Love Redeemed

by Lisa Jordan

  “Dad, who was that?”

  Dad scrubbed a hand over his face. “Bella, we need to talk.” He turned and headed back into his office, leaving the door open.

  Her stomach turned over as she forced herself to head into his office and face whatever grim news he had to share.

  She pressed a shoulder against the doorjamb. “What’s going on?”

  “That man was Leonard Terroni, and he made me an offer on the diner.”

  “Offer? What sort of offer?”

  “An offer to buy it. At a good price.”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean, why?”

  “Why would he offer to buy when the diner’s not even for sale?”

  “Listen, Bella—”

  “No, you listen, Dad. I came home several weeks ago and found you passed out on the floor with a fire starting in the kitchen. Then I spent a week painting and updating the diner and advertising on social media, and then several more weeks running the kitchen nearly single-handedly to save your dream, only to have you consider selling the place without even talking to me first?” Tears burned her eyes.

  “But no one asked you to. You charged in here making changes and refused to listen to my objections.”

  She waved a hand over the restaurant. “You’re saying I did this against your will?”

  Dad leaned forward, elbows on his desk, and cradled his head in his hands. Then he leaned back and rested his head on the back of his chair. “I’m not blaming this on you. I could’ve stopped you, but I was just too tired. I’ve been tired for a very long time.”

  “Then let’s call your doctor and get some lab work done to make sure your sugar levels are where they need to be.”

  “My blood sugar’s fine. This has nothing to do with my health. I appreciate everything you’ve done to help save the diner, Bella, but I just want to sell the place and retire. Leonard’s offer is a good one—I can pay off the bank loan, repay you and then decide where I want to settle.”

  “Settle? You’re thinking of leaving Shelby Lake? And all of this work to try and save the diner was for nothing? And what about me, Dad? Where do I fit in your plans?”

  “You can return to New York where you belong and build your career.”

  “I don’t have a career. I was fired, remember? I have nothing to return to.”

  “Isabella, you’re young, with your whole life ahead of you. You can go anywhere and build your career.”

  “But I came home to help you.”

  “No, you came home to hide. This is your safety net, as home should be, but I didn’t pay for four years of culinary school for you to waste your talents here. Now’s the time to dust yourself off and face your future.”

  Future? What future?

  Everything she wanted was crumbling around her, and she had no say and no way to stop it.

  Isabella left her father’s office and returned to the kitchen. Until the sale of the diner was finalized, she still needed to be ready for the next day. And that meant prepping for a couple of hours. Maybe the tedious work would take her mind of the feelings of abandonment rattling around in her heart.

  As she cut up potatoes for tomorrow’s home fries, her phone rang. She removed her gloves and picked it up.

  Justin’s name and number appeared on the screen.

  She sighed, set down her knife and answered the phone. “Hello?”

  “Isabella, I’m calling for your answer.”

  “Yesterday you said I had a week.” Isabella’s eyes darted toward Dad’s open office door. His seat was empty, but she hadn’t heard him leave. He was probably calling Leonard to finalize the sale. She pressed her back against the counter and rubbed a thumb and forefinger over her gritty eyes.

  “Isabella, are you there?”

  “I’m here, Justin. I’m thinking.”

  “I figured you would have had plenty of time to think by now.”

  “Yes, but there have been some new developments for me to consider.”

  “What? Another offer? What is it? I’ll offer you more.”

  “Why do you even want me working for you, Justin?”

  “Because you’re good. You’re levelheaded and work well under pressure. And your food is amazing.”

  “Will I have a say in how the kitchen is run?”

  “Well, I’ll consider your input, of course.”

  “You know, Justin, I’ve wanted to run my own kitchen from the moment I enrolled in culinary school. Working at the Briarwood gave me an opportunity to hone my skills and learn new experiences. But when you fired me, I was crushed.”

  “You know why I had to, right?”

  “No, actually, I don’t. You didn’t believe in me, and when you learned the truth, you didn’t have the backbone to stand up to management to have me reinstated.”

  “Come on, Isabella. Let’s put that behind us and start fresh. I’m offering you a great opportunity here.”

  “A great opportunity, sure. Until something doesn’t go your way or you bow to pressure. Then what? You’re going to fire me again? I don’t want that kind of risk. You’ve shown me what kind of man you are, and that’s not someone I want to work with. Even though I’m uncertain about my future right now, I’ve decided to stay where I am and see where God leads me.”

  “Whatever. You won’t get another opportunity like this again, and don’t bother asking me to write you a reference, because that’s not going to happen. Enjoy your small-town life, Isabella. It seems I was right—you’ll never be more than a greasy spoon girl after all.”

  The line went silent.

  Isabella gripped her phone so tightly her knuckles ached.

  She pulled on a fresh pair of gloves and picked up her knife. Tears filled her eyes, and she tried to blink them back so she could see where she was cutting. After nearly nicking her finger with the tip of the blade, Isabella dropped the knife on the counter.

  An ache that uncoiled from the pit of her stomach snaked up through her chest, threatening to split apart her ribs and shatter her heart into a million pieces.

  If she had half a brain in her head, she would have jumped at Justin’s offer. But he’d shown his real colors when he fired her, and she didn’t want to work for him again.

  Now Dad was trying to push her out of the nest, but how could she fly with broken wings?

  Despite her hard work and desire to partner with him, it wasn’t enough.

  She wasn’t enough.

  And she didn’t know what to do about that.

  Or where to go from here.

  Perhaps tonight Tucker could offer her some insight and help her to figure out what to do, because for the first time since returning to Shelby Lake, she felt completely lost.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tonight was most definitely a date.

  Unlike her uncertainty about attending the farmers market as friends a few weeks ago, Tucker had made it clear tonight was going to be just the two of them.

  To talk.

  For someone who loved to cook, having someone else doing the cooking ranked up there with one of her all-time favorite romantic ideas.

  She had curled her hair, then pulled it over to one side to fall in front of her shoulder. She added another pin and did a final twirl in front of the mirror to make sure the back of her emerald-green dress was wrinkle-free. A quick spritz of her favorite but seldom used perfume, and she reached for her phone just as it rang.

  Her friend Jeanne’s face appeared on the screen.

  “Hey, Jeanne. What’s going on?” She slipped her feet into a pair of nude strappy sandals. Her toes would probably freeze, but she didn’t care. Tonight would be worth it. She grabbed her purse on her way out the door.

  “Bella, I just talked to Justin. He mentioned you turned down his offer to be head chef at his new restaurant.
”

  “Why would I want to work for him again after he fired me?”

  “Would you consider returning to the Briarwood, at least for a short period of time?”

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  “Your mother’s going to be here.” Jeanne spoke so quietly that Isabella must’ve misunderstood.

  “What? My what?”

  “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

  Isabella sat on the edge of her bed and gripped her phone. “How about you tell me what’s going on?”

  For the next ten minutes, she listened to her friend’s explanation and then hung up with scrambled thoughts tossing inside her head. With her heart racing and body trembling, Isabella headed for her car.

  Somehow, she made it up the hill. Somehow, she managed to park in his driveway. And somehow, she needed to get out of her car, go inside and tell Tucker she needed to cancel their date.

  Gripping the top of the steering wheel, she blew out a breath and pressed her forehead against her hands.

  Why did Jeanne have to call now? Why couldn’t she have called after Isabella’s dinner with Tucker?

  The cold bit her cheeks and the smell of snow swirled through the air as she stepped out of the car, which hadn’t had time to heat up during the short drive up the hill. In her daze over Jeanne’s call, she realized she’d left without a coat, the air blowing through her and stroking her bones.

  Shivering, she hurried up the walk to the front door, but before she could knock, the door opened.

  Tucker stood in the halo of the front porch light wearing dark gray dress pants and a royal-blue dress shirt open at the throat.

  Her heart slipped in her chest.

  He gave her a slow, easy smile. “Hey. I’m glad you could come. Hope you’re hungry.”

  She played with the strap of her purse. “Listen, Tucker, I can’t stay.”

  His eyebrows puckered. “Can’t stay? Why not?”

  She shivered. “The thing is, I need to leave.”

  “At least come in out of the cold and tell me what’s going on.”

  She stepped inside, the warmth of his home enveloping her.

  Her gave her a half smile and wrapped one of her curls around his finger. “You look gorgeous. And that dress...man, Bella. You know how to ruin a guy’s concentration.”

  His words warmed her from the inside out. “Thank you.”

  The dining room table had been dressed with a cream-colored cloth, glistening stemware and white china with tiny blue flowers. A low bouquet of her favorite peach-colored roses sat between two chunky, lit vanilla candles sitting on turned wooden bases. The rich scent of roasted meat filled the air.

  The perfect evening with the perfect guy.

  And she was going to ruin it.

  “Everything looks amazing, Tucker.”

  “Stay and eat with me. I made garlic butter steaks, roasted potatoes with rosemary and olive oil, pastry-wrapped asparagus, and molten lava cake for dessert.”

  “I’m impressed. Maybe you’re the one who should be opening a restaurant.”

  “Say the word, and I’ll be your partner.”

  If only...

  He shoved his hands in his front pockets. “So why can’t you stay?”

  “I need to leave tonight.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Back to the Briarwood.”

  “They hired you back?”

  “Not quite. My friend Jeanne called as I was getting ready to leave for your place to say she’s catering an event and thinks I should be a part of it.”

  “What sort of event?”

  “A book signing and a competition of sorts—all promotional activities for Solange Boucher’s current book tour.”

  “Your mother is in the country?”

  Isabella clasped her hands, dropped her gaze to her fingers and nodded slowly. “Apparently there’s a cooking competition going on, and the winner will win fifty thousand dollars and be given the opportunity to intern with Solange and be a part of her cooking show staff.”

  “And you want to be a part of that?”

  “I know it sounds a bit delusional, but if I enter this competition, then I can help Dad pay off his loan, and I can show my mother I have what it takes to be the right kind of daughter for her.”

  Tucker reached for Isabella’s hands. “Bella, I know how much you want to be a part of your mother’s life, but do you think this is the best way to do this?”

  “I don’t know. Probably not. But I need to see her.”

  “And if you win? Then what? You go to France and leave everything behind? What about Joe? The diner? Your dream of running your own kitchen? What about your new job offer?”

  “Dad’s selling the diner. And how do you know about the job offer?”

  “What do you mean, your dad’s selling the diner? Since when?”

  “Since this afternoon. He met with Leonard Terroni, who offered him a good price on the diner. He wants to sell and retire. It’s been quite a day.”

  “Apparently.” He took a step closer. “And where does this leave us?”

  Her breathed hitched. “Us?”

  “You and me.” Tucker brushed her hair away from her face. “If you leave Shelby Lake, where does that leave us?”

  Isabella covered his hand with hers and gently pulled it away. “I don’t know.”

  A shadow passed over Tucker’s face as he took a step back. “I see.”

  “Tucker...”

  “No, Bella, I get it. Your career needs to come first, right? You’ve worked hard for this. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for my family. I love the way you’ve bonded with my children, giving me peace about leaving them in your hands. I truly appreciate everything you’ve done, and I value your friendship more than you’ll ever know. I wish you well on your future pursuits.”

  He valued her friendship?

  So maybe she had misread tonight and it wasn’t a date after all.

  She lifted her eyes to him, then frowned. “You’re talking like this is...goodbye.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s one huge mistake that’s going to blow up in my face. I should just call Jeanne back and tell her I can’t come.”

  “And you’ll regret it—and maybe even me—if you don’t try. You’ve worked so hard to get where you are, and you don’t want to miss out on these opportunities to see where they can take you.”

  “And just where am I? I’m an unemployed chef standing in for others and butting heads with my father, who doesn’t seem to want me here. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time to stop being the stand-in and go for the starring role. Goodbye, Tucker.” She reached up and touched his cheek, then brushed a final kiss across his lips.

  Without another word, she rushed out the door and hurried to her car as the broken look on his face wrapped around her heart and squeezed the breath from her lungs.

  What had she done?

  * * *

  When Tucker mapped out the evening in his head, nowhere had he expected Bella to walk away without even staying for dinner. But it was probably better to have her leave now than after his children had become more emotionally invested.

  Or him.

  Tucker gripped the back of the dining room chair and stared at the table set for two.

  Did he really think using his grandmother’s china and lighting candles he’d picked up at the grocery store would be enough to convince Bella he wanted to be more than friends?

  Guess Joe was right after all—she’d only come home to lick her wounds. She wasn’t meant for small-town life.

  Or with a rescuer who came as a package deal.

  Tucker blew out the candles. He opened the door to the china closet built in under the stairs and pu
lled out the protective cases for his grandmother’s dishes. After putting the dinnerware away, he carried the water goblets to the sink and poured out the liquid. As he moved to turn them upside down on the drying mat, one of the stems knocked against the faucet.

  The goblet flew out of his hand and crashed against the stainless-steel sink.

  He stared at the countless broken pieces that seemed like a perfect metaphor for his love life. Gripping the sink, a shudder welled up between his ribs, creating a burning so fierce it made his face twist.

  His breath came out in short bursts as he struggled to keep from crying like a baby in front of his kitchen sink.

  Heaving a sigh, Tucker picked out the larger pieces and tossed them in the trash can under the sink. As he reached for a smaller shard, it sliced the pad of his thumb, dripping blood over the remaining pieces.

  For a moment, he wanted to scream and shout about the battle raging between his head and his heart.

  He should have known better than to cross the line of friendship. Asking for anything more was setting himself up for a continual dull ache in his chest that never quite healed.

  He had his family. He had his kids. Couldn’t that be enough?

  No.

  Not anymore.

  He wanted the whole package. He’d had it once and thought it was gone again forever, but Bella coming back into his life showed his heart was ready for more.

  Then she’d walked out the door, abandoning what they could have together and leaving him feeling broken and scattered.

  He cleaned up the rest of the mess and then wrapped a Band-Aid around his thumb.

  What was he going to do about the food? He grabbed his phone off the counter and tapped out a text to his dad. Eat yet?

  Nah. Watching a game. Will grab something in a bit.

  Bringing down dinner.

  What about your date?

  Will explain in 5.

  Tucker grabbed some storage containers out of the cabinet and filled them with the steak, potatoes and asparagus. He added cake to the other one. After changing out of his dress clothes into a pair of sweats, he put on his jacket, grabbed the food and headed outside.