Two Bites Too Many

by Debra H. Goldstein

  “Have you given any thought on someone to suggest who might support our position for developing an entertainment district? How about Jacob?”

  Emily shook her head. “That won’t work. His name is Hightower.”

  “So?”

  “It’s simple. Even though his viewpoint is diametrically opposed to his father and sister’s, the council already has a Hightower on it. Wheaton voters aren’t going to want someone who they think might result in one family controlling the voting on all matters. The Hightowers have enough power as it is. Sarah, do you think Harlan would throw his hat in the ring? He’s fair and well-respected.”

  “He’d be great, but he won’t do it. I can’t tell you how many times he’s told me he swore after the stint he did on the Economic Council with Bill, he’d never hold public office again. He believes he can do more good being a lawyer for the people than a politician. Why don’t one of you run?”

  Marcus laughed. “Because we’re chefs. I don’t think I could hold myself in check for an entire meeting.”

  Emily rubbed his shoulder. “Nor would he have the patience to sit through committee and regular council meetings.”

  Sarah laughed. There were plenty of times she’d seen Marcus impassioned about something. “What about you, Emily? You have a sound business mind and you’ve always been civic-minded and good with people. Plus, I’ve seen how focused you are when you’re cooking.”

  “That’s different. After everything that happened with Bill, I don’t think I ever want to be involved in political behind-the-scenes dealings. It’s not for me.”

  “Well, I may not have any other ideas for the election, but I think I can see a way clear for you for the twenty-three hundred dollars.”

  “What?”

  “Let me give it to you.”

  Marcus banged his bottle down on the table “Absolutely not. If you come in as a partner on the big house project because you own the property, that’s one thing, but we’re not going to let you use your money to bail us out.”

  “Why not? Emily is my sister and, even though I don’t have an interest in Southwind, I am, like you said, going to be your partner in the new venture. Look, I can afford to do this for you and I want to do it.”

  “Sarah, restaurants are speculative businesses at best. You keep that money for you. Emily and I will find a loan or some other means of getting it. I don’t want to be obligated to you in case something goes wrong. You need to use that money for something you want to do.”

  “I want to help the two of you.”

  He looked at Emily, who reached over and took his hand. “We appreciate your offer, but we can’t. Don’t worry. We’ll find a way.”

  Sarah watched this exchange between them as she thought about how hard going to a bank was. “You know, I think you should try the bank again. Mom was sure you’d sail through because she’d offered to cosign or guarantee the loan with her own assets.”

  “We don’t want to take her money, either.”

  “You wouldn’t be. She’s only guaranteeing you’ll pay back the loan. At least that’s what I understood when she let Mr. Knowlton have it when she took me to the bank today. From what he said and the look on his face, I think he would have reversed his loan officer’s decision if he had lived.”

  Marcus ran his hand through his hair. “I had no idea Maybelle told the bank she’d guarantee our loan request. That was most generous of her.”

  “Mother is always full of surprises. That’s why she was so mad when she found out your loan request was denied. So, if you won’t take the money from me, I’m sure she still would do that for the two of you. If she does, you, not her, will be the ones paying back the loan.”

  “She wouldn’t be out any money. I’d make sure of that.” Marcus held up his bottle and Sarah clinked her soda can against it.

  Emily ignored her bottle of water sitting on the table. “There is another solution, but things have been so crazy, I haven’t had the chance to share my good news with either of you.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Marcus and Sarah stared at Emily.

  “I was waiting to tell both of you once the details were finalized, but now seems like the perfect time to share my good news. Sarah, you remember meeting Thomas Howell this afternoon at city hall?”

  “Yes. I gather he invited you to cook at an exhibition at his hotel.”

  “More than that. That’s what I was so excited about, but with everything with Mr. Knowlton and Mom, I mean Maybelle, and then working with Grace, I didn’t even get a chance to tell you, Marcus.”

  From the way Marcus tightened his grip on his beer bottle, Sarah gathered there might be something she didn’t know about how he felt about Thomas Howell. “What news about Mr. Hotel didn’t you share with me?”

  “His name is Thomas Howell, not Mr. Hotel, and he not only invited me to be part of that event, but he made me a proposition that could be the answer to our money problems.” Emily grinned broadly at Sarah and Marcus, but while Sarah forced herself to smile back, she observed Marcus’s reaction was a frown.

  He cleared his throat and took another swig of his beer. “Considering how things have been going, this sounds too good to be true. I’m glad I’m sitting down.”

  Tension zinged through the room as Emily made a face at his snide remark before blithely continuing. “But it is. Thomas Howell couldn’t have been nicer when we were talking before you got to the council meeting. He told me he’d heard we’d run into some delays getting back on our feet since the fire.”

  Marcus leaned forward. “How much did you tell him?”

  Now, it was Emily’s turn to frown and wrinkle her brows, but in obvious confusion rather than anger. “The truth, of course. We haven’t been able to open the restaurant or take any catering jobs, but that as soon as all the permits are approved, we’ll be back in business.”

  “I’m sure that thrilled him to no end.”

  “He didn’t say either way.”

  “What did he say?” Sarah tried to avoid a collision of opinions between Marcus and Emily. From past experience, she knew that both were stubborn and could dig in their heels. Better to defuse the moment, if possible.

  “He told me that while the hotel is doing well, the restaurant has had some problems.”

  Marcus took another sip of his beer. “That’s an understatement. It’s well known that it’s been floundering almost since day one. So what did he want from you? Our recipes and tricks of the trade?”

  “Not at all. He acknowledged that since he opened, his restaurant staffing has been hit and miss. He’s trying to start over and needs an executive chef. He offered me the job.”

  “You already have a job with Southwind. And you’ll have a second one if our new restaurant gets off the ground.”

  “That’s exactly what I told him.”

  Marcus relaxed into his chair and played with the label on his beer bottle. “Now that is good news.”

  “But, Emily, I don’t see how what you told him helps Marcus and you monetarily.”

  “It doesn’t. That is, until Thomas sweetened his offer. He understands my loyalty to Southwind, so he offered me a six-month executive chef contract. I’ll come onboard and straighten out the kitchen while he continues looking for a new permanent chef. Whether he finds one in one month or six months, he’ll pay me the entire amount of our contract. Thomas also said I can bring my own sous chef, so I can put Grace on his payroll, too. Between what I’ll make and Southwind not having to pay Grace, we can easily handle the expense of the hood.”

  “Em, are you sure you heard Thomas right? That doesn’t sound like the kind of contract Harlan would negotiate at our office.”

  Marcus crossed his arms. “No, it doesn’t. What out clause does Mr. Hotel have?”

  “I can’t believe how cynical you’re being. Thomas is willing to pay because he wants an experienced hand to help him start over.”

  “Maybe, but I guarantee you, Mr. Hotel will put somethin
g in the contract letting him fire you without paying you for six months. Once you straighten things out and give him our secrets for running a successful restaurant, he won’t need you anymore.”

  “Don’t be so silly, Marcus. Thomas isn’t like that. What’s even better is his hotel kitchen is permitted and meets all required codes. He understands the pickle we’re in with the permits, codes, and rebuilding time, so because his kitchen is permitted as a commissary-approved kitchen for preparation and distribution, he’s willing to let me make food there and bring it to Wheaton to sell at one designated location. Surely, once we’re working together, he’ll also let me use his kitchen during off times to prep for catering jobs until Southwind receives its permit.”

  Marcus took a few steps from the table but then returned and stood over Emily and Sarah. “Are you crazy? You really think he’s going to let us cater our food out of his establishment? He wants our catering business for the Howellian. Who do you think stepped in when I couldn’t accept the job catering the meal after Lance’s funeral?”

  Sarah agreed with Marcus. She didn’t understand kitchens, wouldn’t know a walk-in refrigerator from a walk-in freezer until she opened its door and felt how cold it was, but she understood business competition. She typed complaints and answers every day in Harlan’s office stemming from disagreements. Wouldn’t commissary-delivered food driven in from Birmingham in a hotel-owned temperature-controlled truck have packaging bearing the hotel’s name? Why would Howell let food from his kitchen be associated with Southwind? Surely, he’d want it to be an advertisement for the Howellian and his other businesses.

  Glancing at how excited her twin was at having found a partial solution to their monetary woes, Sarah was sure she hadn’t thought beyond the dollar signs. As Emily continued prattling about how kind and warm Thomas was, Sarah wished her sister would rein in her enthusiasm. From the way Marcus bent forward over the wooden back of a new chair, his hands pressed flat into the table, she doubted he’d be able to control his temper and tongue much longer.

  “Are you stupid or simply naïve? Don’t you realize his customers will associate our cooking and recipes, if you make them, with the Howellian rather than our restaurant? As long as you’re there, they’ll flock to you. When he’s done with you and has your recipes, he’ll fling you aside to come back to Southwind, but the damage will have been done. The public won’t associate your food with you. You’ll always be the one who prepares food like they do at the Howellian. If they can get the real thing, why should people drive fifteen minutes for a knock-off?”

  Seeing two dots of red contrasting with the heightened pallor of Emily’s cheeks and the right tilt at which she held her neck, Sarah waited for Emily to explode. She didn’t. Instead, Emily stood and picked up her purse.

  “I think you need to cool off. You’re not thinking rationally. We’ve got a problem, and this is an honorable way out of it. In six months, everything you’re saying can’t possibly happen. Come on, Sarah. Let’s go to your place and let this blowhard calm down.”

  Emily stomped out of the restaurant. Sarah stood, torn. She couldn’t help but agree with Marcus. After being married to a rat, Sarah had too much practical experience in observing situations like this. She thought Emily did, too. But her sister was her sister and, like the old saying, “blood is thicker than water.”

  “I’ll talk to her,” she assured Marcus as she followed Emily from the restaurant.

  “Please.”

  When she looked back, Marcus was again seated at the table, the beer bottle pushed away from him, his face engulfed by his big hands.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “RahRah,” Sarah called as Emily and she threw their purses and coats on the couch in the carriage house. Hurrying to the kitchen, she opened its door, but RahRah didn’t dart out of the room. She peered inside the room, and her heart almost stopped. He was in the same position he’d been in when she left. Crossing the room in three steps, she repeated his name.

  This time, he stirred. Assuming she woke him from a deep sleep, she didn’t try to touch him until he was fully awake. Instead, she picked up his water bowl and went to the sink. While she refilled it, she kept up a running patter. “Were you dreaming? From the looks of your water and food bowls, it looks like you had a good meal while I was gone. Did you decide to take another nap after you ate?”

  “Yup.”

  Sarah spun around at the low purring response only to see her twin, convulsed with laughter. “Got you!”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  Emily repeated her gravel-voiced response.

  Rather than denying the truth, Sarah gave in to her sister’s assertion. She watched Emily open and immediately close her refrigerator. “Well? Find what you were looking for?”

  Emily nodded. “Other than more nail polish and spaghetti, I see you haven’t added much to your food stock since I last spent the night.”

  Sarah placed RahRah’s water back on the floor. Returning to the sink, she used a watermelon-decorated glass from a mismatched set her mother had given her after her divorce for a glass of water for herself. “I’ve got enough to get by. Between work and spending extra time at the shelter playing with the animals, I’ll admit the fridge is a bit bare. Do you want something to drink?”

  “No thanks. And, I know, you’re planning a grocery run for this weekend.” Emily pulled a chair out from the kitchen table.

  Sarah joined her sister at the table. “Exactly. Well, maybe not. This is my Saturday to walk dogs at the shelter. Speaking of which, if you really take this new gig, are you going to help me with the people and animal treats for YipYeow Day or should I start practicing with brownie mixes?”

  “Don’t worry. You know I’ll work it out, and I’m sure Marcus, and probably Grace and Jacob, will help, too. Just let me know what the date turns out to be. Speaking of dates, would you join me for lunch tomorrow at the Howellian?”

  “Are you buying?”

  “No, Thomas is. He wants to take me on a tour of the kitchen and hotel. You can come, too.”

  “Shouldn’t you take Marcus rather than me?”

  “I think it was clear he wants nothing to do with Thomas Howell and the Howellian. Forcing Marcus to go would only cause more tension between us. That’s the last thing we need right now.”

  “Em, why then are you even considering accepting Thomas’s job offer?”

  Emily looked at RahRah, who had sauntered over to their table and plopped down on her feet. “When you’re short on money, you find a way to make things work. This is our best temporary solution.”

  “But you have other alternatives. I’ll give you the money.”

  “Marcus and I won’t take it from you.” Emily pointed at Sarah’s glass. “You’ve gone without so long, you deserve to be able to buy things you want instead of settling for hand-me-downs.”

  Sarah grabbed Emily’s hand. “It’s no big deal. I have enough money now that making you a short-term loan won’t keep me from doing anything.”

  “Restaurants are tricky businesses, and with all the delays and snags we’ve hit, we won’t take a chance on not being able to pay you back quickly. Look, I’ve seen the catalogs under your bed. I know you want to go back to school. If we take the money, that will delay you even longer. I don’t want that on my conscience.”

  “Now you’re being melodramatic. Because you saw a few catalogs lying around doesn’t mean I want to enroll in classes. I have plenty of cookbooks, and I have no desire to cook.”

  “Okay. I’ll grant you that, but we won’t take the money from you. The subject is closed.”

  “Then why not let Mother lend it to you or guarantee a bridge loan for Marcus and you?”

  “We’ll see. But there are still no guarantees. Remember, we apparently tried that route and it didn’t work.”

  “But it should have. If you’d been in Mr. Knowlton’s office, you would have seen him realize it was a loan that should have been approved. Neither he nor I had an
y idea why it was denied. If he’d lived, I bet he would have approved it before the council meeting began.”

  “If he’d lived.” Emily rubbed her neck. “Right now, Mom has enough on her plate. She doesn’t need to worry about Marcus and my finances. So, will you come with me to lunch tomorrow?”

  Sarah wanted to refuse, but one glance at her sister made her decide to go. This invitation was so out of character for Emily, it was a sign a twin couldn’t ignore. She didn’t want Emily to cut her out of her trust loop. Last time that happened, things blew up in deadly fashion. Who knew what might happen if Sarah blew this invitation off? She couldn’t take the chance. Besides, maybe, if Sarah was there, Emily would let her be the voice of reason Emily seemed to be ignoring.

  “I’ll come. Em, one thing I don’t understand is why Thomas is bothering bringing a commissary concept to Wheaton. Doesn’t he have enough on his platter?”

  “I think there’s a family relationship between him and some of the Wheaton families. This is his way of paying back their investment in him.”

  “Investment in him?”

  Emily nodded. “At a crucial point, before Thomas broke ground for the hotel, he ran into money problems. Via the bank, Thomas found a group of investors from Wheaton who got him over the hump. The commissary is something Lance and he worked out.”

  So Thomas was tied to Lance, too. Perhaps there was something in their relationship that would make Thomas Howell a suspect, too. Sarah hoped not. He still was someone she wouldn’t mind getting to know better.

  “Thomas promised to fill me in on everything over lunch. If you have any questions, you can ask him then.”

  Sarah wondered exactly how much Thomas would tell Emily tomorrow. It seemed unlikely he would share more than basic financial facts with a potential executive chef and her tagalong sister.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The next morning, Harlan was already setting up the office coffee maker when Sarah arrived for work. She dropped her purse into her bottom desk drawer, hidden behind the partial wall separating her workspace from the cozy waiting room, grabbed her coffee mug, and joined him.