The waitress, a friendly middle-aged woman neatly dressed in a short-sleeved blouse and knee-length skirt, quickly shifted the place settings and tablecloth to their booth, then returned to hand them menus in plastic covers.
Another thing that'll have to go if Eddy wants to upgrade this place, Daniel thought, accepting the menu with a smile at the waitress.
He was glad that he'd have the opportunity to evaluate the restaurant's meal service and quality of dishes, though it would have been better to experience it during lunch or dinner rush, when the kitchen's organization and skills would really be put to the test by a high volume of orders.
The waitress returned with the wine they had ordered. It had already poured into glasses rather than being served from the bottle at the table.
Daniel thanked her, and waited until she left to ask Eddy, "Do you have a sommelier on the premises?"
Eddy shook his head. "Just bartenders. We have a lounge next door to the dining room, and they pour all of the alcoholic drink orders." He frowned. "Do you think we need to hire one?"
"To attract the kind of business that you want, I think you do," Daniel answered. "You'll need someone with the expertise to stock your wine cellar with premium vintages that you can sell at a higher profit, and to suggest pairings with special occasion menus."
"Hm." Eddy didn't looked pleased at this answer.
Daniel sipped at his wine, a California Cabernet Sauvignon. Decent quality, but nothing special and served a little too warm.
"So, tell me," Eddy asked, leaning back against the padded back of the booth. "Would it be possible for you to create upscale menus without spending an arm and a leg on food costs?"
Daniel saw his opportunity to mention the restaurant's lack of proper ambiance. "The biggest issue isn't going to be food costs, it's—" he began.
He was interrupted by a man's voice, snarling in a vicious tone, "Jeez, just make the fucking kid shut up! I don't care what you have to do!"
Daniel and Eddy both glanced over at the couple.
The woman's expression crumpled. "I can't, Jeff! You're the one who insisted that Amber had to wait for her lunch until we finished our hike. And it's her naptime now!"
"Now it's my fault? Are you fucking serious, Kelsey?" Jeff snarled. "You're the reason she's turning into such a spoiled brat! If you can't control your daughter, then I'm outta here."
Kelsey's eyes widened, and she recoiled as if he'd just slapped her.
"Fine," she shot back. "Go. It's over, anyway. I just can't deal with your bullshit anymore."
The man leaned over the table, his scowl transformed to a venomous glare. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"I know about you and Stacy," she said, sounding weary. "You keep promising you'll change, but it's always the same story. I'm tired of your lies, Jeff. I'm tired of having to work weekend shifts to pay your damn debts. And I'm sick and tired of knowing that you and Stacy are still texting, even after you swore to me that was over."
"It is over!" Jeff protested. "But I can't help it if she can't take a hint and keeps texting me! Jesus, Kelsey, you don't have to be such a bitch about it."
Kelsey wiped angrily at her eyes, smearing streaks of mascara. "Yes. Yes, I do. This was supposed to be our anniversary weekend away. But now I see that nothing's ever going to change. And you never give me any help with Amber, either. And you're the one who wants more kids. I feel like I'm doing this alone most of the time."
"She's not my daughter! And you're blaming me because your kid is throwing another one of her tantrums? No wonder her dad walked on out you two," he growled. "What the fuck do you want, anyway?"
"I want you to leave, Jeff," Kelsey snapped. "You don't love me anymore and I'm done. Just leave me alone. I don't care if you move in with Stacy or your mom, just take your stuff and leave."
"You stupid ugly bitch!" He pushed back his chair with a violent shove, his face twisted with rage, and rose. "You don't get to throw me out!"
Jeff's hand clenched into a fist. He raised his arm, and Kelsey cringed away.
Amber's howls and shrieks rose to new intensity.
Daniel reacted without thinking. He slid out of the booth, shot to his feet, and moved with shifter speed to stand protectively at Kelsey's side.
She gasped and jumped at his sudden appearance.
"The lady asked you to leave," he said softly, his gaze fixed on a visibly-startled Jeff.
"What the fuck?" snarled Jeff. "Who the fuck are you? Get outta here, asshole."
Daniel could feel the prickle of his cat stirring inside his skin, and thought that his eyes might be showing some gold. He'd met guys like Jeff before, bullies who enjoyed terrorizing and humiliating the weak.
He smiled, showing all of his teeth, and said calmly, "No."
Eddy moved just as fast as Daniel.
In the blink of an eye, he was standing behind Jeff.
"Sir," he said, his voice rougher than normal with an unvoiced growl. His sinewy hand closed on the back of the other man's neck. "I'm the owner of this resort, and you are no longer welcome on the premises," he rasped. "Get out."
"Just try and make me—" Jeff began to bluster.
Then he caught Daniel's gaze and froze like a deer staring at a cougar. Daniel's expression didn't change, but deep inside, he felt his cat bare its oversized fangs in a deadly smile.
The man paled, then spun away from Eddy.
"Fine," he spat. "You're all assholes. I don't need you...any of you." He glared over his shoulder at the woman standing by Daniel's side. Her expression was closed, but Daniel could feel her shaking. "And I'm not done with you, bitch."
Daniel felt her flinch, and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder as Jeff stalked away.
"Thank you," she whispered. "I'm really sorry about all this." She gestured helplessly at Jeff's retreating back, then wiped at her eyes.
Eddy whipped a clean, folded handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Carrie. As she dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose, Eddy lifted a small radio from his belt and contacted hotel security to let them know that one of the guests was no longer welcome on the premise.
A big shifter wearing a discreet business suit promptly appeared at the entrance of the dining room, and moved swiftly to escort Jeff out, though not before Jeff had the chance to throw one last glare in her direction.
"Lunch is on me," Eddy told her quietly. "Let me know if you'd one of my security guards to escort you anywhere, or if you need a lift anywhere."
Wide-eyed, Kelsey glanced between them. "Th-thank you," she stammered. "I live near here, but we took Jeff's car to get here. I can call my dad to come get us." Her face crumpled, and a sob erupted from her throat. "This was supposed to be our anniversary dinner! I thought he was going to propose!"
"I'm sorry," Daniel told her, and gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. "But believe me, you and your little girl deserve someone who will treat you better than he does."
Kelsey shook her head. "I'm so sorry about all this," she said, wiping at her eyes and gesturing at Jeff's empty place.
Eddy shook his head. "Not your fault, my dear. You let me know if you need anything, okay?"
Daniel followed Eddy back to their booth.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kelsey gather up little Amber and flee the dining room, leaving Daniel and Eddy alone in the big room except for their waitress, who sat in a booth on the other side of the dining room, wrapping silverware into napkins in preparation for the dinner service.
The resort's lunch menu was pretty basic, clearly designed to appeal to tourists with children. Daniel ordered a cheeseburger with fries and a spinach salad topped with creamy dollops of local goat cheese, candied pecans, and dried cherries. Eddy ordered a chicken pot pie, which came with a side salad.
When their food arrived, Daniel noted that all dishes were well-prepared with fresh ingredients, if not terribly imaginative in concept or plating. Eddy's pot pie had clearly been made from scratch rather than bak
ed using a premade frozen pie from a restaurant supply company. The creamy filling was thick with chunks of chicken and diced vegetables and the pastry looked crisp and flaky. Daniel's burger, served on a freshly-baked brioche bun, was perfectly cooked, the thick, hand-shaped patty juicy and flavorful, and the melted cheddar pleasantly sharp and creamy.
There was real talent in Eddy's kitchen, which was very promising for the owner's plans to turn his restaurant into an upscale establishment.
He and Eddy spent the time discussing Daniel's ideas for updating the dining room's decor, as well as changes to the menu to focus on healthy contemporary American cuisine. Eddy proposed expanding the existing cafe and snack bar to become a seasonal retro diner which would serve family-friendly fare like the pot pies, hamburgers, and pizza. This would allow the main dining room to be upgraded while still serving the resort's base summer clientele. Daniel agreed that this approach might work.
As lunch drew to a close and the conversation began to wind down, Daniel asked, "What's the next step? Would you like me to provide my references?"
He was pretty sure that Cousin Teddy would give him a glowing reference, especially if he wasn't planning on reopening the Desert Bayou anytime soon.
Eddy gave a rasping chuckle at this and shook his head. He reached for his iPad, which he had been using to show Daniel the kinds of dining venues he wanted to emulate, and tapped it rapidly.
Then he handed it to Daniel. "Daniel, this here is all the reference I need."
Daniel glanced down and saw an article from an Albuquerque newspaper about the Desert Bayou receiving a Michelin star.
He groaned silently, remembering all-too-well the fuss that had followed that article.
The journalist had raved at embarrassing length about Daniel's dishes, calling them "a playful and inventive" take on traditional Cajun cuisine.
Daniel's staff at the restaurant had posted an oversized photocopy of the article in the kitchen, then had spent weeks giving Daniel good-natured shit about whether this or that dish was "playful and inventive" enough to serve the restaurant's customers that night. It had all been in good fun, and Daniel knew that his crew were proud that their hard work had been recognized, even if Daniel had gotten the lion's share of the credit.
Eddy continued, "I got a good gut feeling about you, Daniel, especially since Maggie Swanson is vouching for you. I've known her since we were both in kindergarten. She's a good judge of character. So, I'm not going to waste any time. I'd be thrilled if you came to work for me. Here's my offer. "
He named a salary and benefits package comparable to what Daniel had been earning at the Desert Bayou, plus profit-sharing.
Sweet!
Daniel opened his mouth to accept, but the words froze in his throat.
If I take this job, it means that I'm leaving my life in Albuquerque behind. Maybe forever.
Daniel hadn't been lying when he told Ariela and Eddy that he liked Bearpaw Ridge. More importantly, Chris seemed to like it here. But even with Justin Long's presence in the area, he and his nephew would be lone cats here, growing up outside of a formal pride structure. Daniel remembered how isolated he felt sometimes in the Marines, despite the bonds of brotherhood with his fellow leathernecks. He didn't want Chris to feel that same sense of isolation from his own kind.
"Well?" Eddy said. "What do you think?"
Do I say yes? Do I commit to staying here? Daniel asked himself.
Do we stay with Margaret and woo her for our mate? His cat's silent voice sounded eager. And Daniel had to admit that he liked the idea of wooing Margaret Swanson. There was only one problem...
"It's a great offer," Daniel told Eddy, hating himself for his sudden qualms. "But it also means a big move. A permanent relocation...I own a house back in Albuquerque. And my pride—what remains of it, anyway—they're all based in Albuquerque. Can I think about this for a day or two?"
Just until I can talk to Margaret and see if there's any chance she'd agree to become my mate.
"Sure thing," Eddy said, shaking Daniel's hand. "Just don't keep me waiting too long, okay? I'd like to have a new executive chef hired and working before Tomás's last day here."
Chapter Twenty-One – A Feast for the Senses
"Darlin', if you ever get tired of running a bed-and-breakfast, I'll hire you to work in my kitchen anytime," Daniel said as he strolled into Margaret's kitchen three hours after he'd departed.
He glanced over the large mounds of washed and neatly prepared vegetables sitting on the island counter and nodded in approval before moving in to kiss her.
As she tilted her face up to meet his mouth, Margaret dared to hope that he and Eddy had hit it off. And that Daniel would be staying in Bearpaw Ridge permanently.
The sinfully sexy lips on hers kindled a hot glow that blossomed in the pit of her belly.
He's the best kisser I've ever met, and that includes Ryan. She felt a stab of guilt at that thought, but it was true. She had loved Ryan, truly and deeply, and the sex had been enjoyable whenever he was home from his deployments.
But there was just something about her instant connection with Daniel, and their spectacular chemistry last night. It had shaken her to her core, and left her craving more.
Apparently, Daniel felt the same way.
"I've got to tell you," he murmured, drawing back at last, "that I'm really looking forward to another helping of dessert tonight. I was thinking about you the whole drive out to the resort and back." His hands lingered on her shoulders, as if he were reluctant to break contact. She saw him inhale deeply. "Damn, woman, you smell good."
The glow in her belly expanded, warming her to the tips of her fingers and toes. Margaret smiled up at him. "How did your interview go?"
His expression clouded, and he looked troubled. "Good," he answered tersely, and fell silent.
Startled by his response, she thought that was all the answer she was going to get. Then he spoke again, a trace of apology in his voice. "I got an offer. It's a sweet deal, nearly as good as owning my own place, without any of the financial risks."
"That does sound good," she said, puzzled by his lukewarm reaction when it seemed that things had gone really well for him.
Maybe he's having second thoughts about staying in Bearpaw Ridge. This unwelcome thought was immediately followed by an even less welcome one. Did I come on too strong last night?
He wants a second helping of dessert tonight, her bear reminded her. He wasn't lying about that, and you know it as well as I do.
Her quick flash of dismay must have shown on her face, because Daniel's hands moved from her shoulders to cup her face, and he bent to give her a quick, warm kiss.
"Darlin' it's not that I don't appreciate everything you've done for me and Junior. It's just..." he hesitated, as if searching for the right words. "Two days ago, I had my future all planned out. I had a house of my own, a great job with a great kitchen crew, and Cousin Teddy was going to sell me the Desert Bayou when he retired. Now..." he shrugged. "Don't get me wrong—Eddy Ornelas seems like a good guy to work for, and I owe you a big one for setting up the interview for me. But I have some serious thinking to do."
"I understand," Margaret assured him, and put her arms around his waist to hug him.
"Right up until Eddy offered me the job, I'd been thinking about what happened on Friday as a, I don't know, temporary setback," Daniel continued. "But now it's real—a complete reset of my entire life. I know that I probably can't go back to Albuquerque, and that I'll have to abandon everything I've worked for since returning from Afghanistan..." He sighed. "And I need to talk to my nephew before I tell Eddy 'yes.' Junior's having a great time here, with all the other shifter kids here on the ranch, but a vacation is a different thing from a permanent relocation. He's probably thinking that he's not going to be here long, and then he'll go back to his old school and his other friends."
Margaret hugged him a little tighter. "I remember what it's like to leave everyone behind."
She'd been living here on the ranch for a long time now, but the wrench of relocation was still vivid in her memories. It was a fact of life for military families, but that didn't mean it was easy. More than once, she'd felt like a plant yanked out of the soil and replanted in less favorable conditions. It had been a relief when Elle took her in, and gave her the space and time to put down new roots here.
Daniel nodded. "It's only fair that Junior gets a vote—I remember how tough it was for Pete and me when our mother arranged for a new mating after Papa was killed, and we relocated to Albuquerque."
Tell him, urged her bear. He needs to know.
Margaret knew she wasn't ready to discuss mating with him. Not after just one night together. But she didn't want him to leave, either. She had to say something.
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