Before getting on the PCH, she got a couple of cheeseburgers and a large soda to go. Normally, she didn’t eat a lot of junk food, but there was no time for a sit-down meal. She had to get home to find out what was going on with Lucy.
Jasmine devoured her meal and tried to groove to her favorite contemporary jazz station, but the soulful rhythms reminded her too much of Micah, so she turned the music off.
The questions she’d never asked him seemed to gnaw and pick at her brain against the background of silence. She stuck her hand out of the open window, her fist clenching and releasing, as if she could capture the answers in the air.
“I’ll tell him that I love him,” she vowed.
And if he didn’t feel the same way, then there would be no need to delve any deeper. She could stop hoping for a long-term relationship and consider him as a lover, moving on when, and if, she met someone else. The problem was that he’d captured her heart, and right now, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to release it to another man.
By the time she got home, the sky was streaked with dark pink and gold. After stowing her bags upstairs, she grabbed her half apron and tied it on. Despite the unknowns, she was excited to get back to work.
She found her grandmother behind the bar serving customers, and gave her a hug. Though she’d only been gone a few days, Lucy seemed thinner and frailer than she remembered. It saddened her, but also strengthened her resolve to find out what was going on.
“Need any help?”
“No,” Lucy shook her head. “I’m glad you’ve arrived safely. Did you park in back?”
“Yes, of course. You told me to always leave the spaces up front for customers. Why?”
Jasmine pressed against the back wall as Lucy squeezed by her.
“And what was so important that you couldn’t tell me over the phone?”
“Follow me,” Lucy said. “I need to show you something.”
The dining room was nearly empty as they weaved around the tables to the front. Jasmine raised a brow as they went outdoors, but nothing had prepared her for what she saw across the street. For the windows now emblazoned with the Society Red logo.
She stood openmouthed, not believing what she was seeing, until she crossed the street for a close-up.
A few moments later, Lucy was at her side. She cupped her hands, and without touching the window, peered inside.
“Chairs and tables are in. The place looks like it’s going to open soon.”
Jasmine traced the lettering with her eyes and her stupidity became as clear as the glass. Her heart broke at Micah’s obvious display of deceit.
Lucy touched her shoulder, and she jumped.
“I take it that he never told you.”
She gulped back tears. “I can’t believe it. This was his restaurant the entire time.”
Lucy nodded sadly. “It appears so. I guess you can figure out why I couldn’t tell you on the phone.”
“Why didn’t you?” she demanded.
“I wanted you to see this for yourself. So when the time comes to confront Micah, you can react with a rational mind, not an emotional one.”
Her face warmed with embarrassment, and then shame that she’d been taken in so easily by Micah’s good looks and charm. She stared through the glass and her voice shook as she spoke.
“I know what I want to do right now. I want to throw a brick through every one of these windows. That’s how angry I am.”
She crossed her arms and huffed out a breath.
“He even took me on a tour of his location in New York. He’s been trying to help me, giving me tips on how to improve our operations. Why would he do that?”
“I’ve never claimed to understand human motivation,” Lucy replied. “But I’m really surprised that he didn’t let you know. Even though their father is an ambulance-chasing lawyer, all the Langston men are typically very honest. Or at least, they were.”
“What are we going to do?” Jasmine exclaimed. “I’m not sure if you know this but Micah has a history of running other restaurants around him out of business. And we’re unlucky enough to be right across the street!”
“We were here first.”
Under the subdued glow of the streetlamp that had just flickered on, her grandmother’s lined face looked fierce, rather than tired.
“Sounds like you’re ready for a fight,” Jasmine observed.
“I just want to save what I’ve worked hard for my entire life.”
Jasmine draped her arm around Lucy’s thin shoulders and squeezed gently. “I’m ready to help you any way I can.”
Lucy patted her hand. “Thank you, sweetheart. I knew I could count on you. Now we better get back. It’s almost closing time.”
Later, back in the apartment while Lucy took a shower, Jasmine unpacked her bags and threw a load of laundry in the washing machine.
Micah had left a voice mail earlier, checking to see if she’d arrived in Bay Point. Instead of calling him back, she texted that she was home and very tired. She left it open as to whether they would speak soon, or at all.
Her throat ached from the need to cry, but she refused to give in to her feelings. What would be the point, she thought as she stowed her suitcases in the back of her closet. She wouldn’t need them anytime soon. No more impromptu trips to New York for a man who couldn’t even be bothered to tell her the truth.
She knew she couldn’t avoid him forever. He’d pointed out during the tour that from an operational standpoint, his restaurants didn’t require his involvement day-to-day. Though she had no idea how often he planned to be in Bay Point, she assumed he’d be around a lot more, at least initially.
Mired in thought, she headed into the kitchen and made a pot of herbal tea. Although she was exhausted, she wanted to stay up a little longer and think of a plan that would help Lucy fend off the competition, from Micah and other new restaurants in Bay Point.
She stared at a business card stuck behind a magnet on the refrigerator, then took it and smiled. After pouring herself a cup of tea, she went into her grandmother’s bedroom and handed her the card.
“Are you sure?” Lucy asked, patting the side of the bed.
“Yes,” she said, sitting down. “I’m ready to take the next step.”
Lucy smiled. “I’ll call the lawyer in the morning to make it official.”
Jasmine kissed her goodnight on the cheek and left the room. She was proud of herself for taking a burden from her beloved grandmother and placing it on her own shoulders.
Her steps felt lighter and more purposeful than ever, but her heart remained broken.
* * *
Micah held back the urge to lay on his horn as he inched along behind a row of cars on Magnolia Avenue. Outside his rolled-up window, Bay Point’s downtown sidewalks buzzed with activity.
The streetlamps were wound in yellow crepe paper streamers. Kids held onto red and white balloons, and hop-skipped ahead of their parents, laughing and pointing. Stores displayed their wares, and people milled about, talking and browsing.
He rubbed his palm over his eyes, and released the brake to inch up a bit more. All he wanted was a parking space. He’d already checked the alley in back of his restaurant, and there were none available.
While he waited for traffic to move, Micah made a mental note to tell his construction manager to post no-parking signs so that he’d have a better chance of having a spot whenever he was home.
He wanted to surprise Jasmine, so he didn’t tell her he was back in town. Nor had he told her about the restaurant as he’d planned to do in New York. There never seemed to be a right time to broach the subject, and he didn’t want to spoil even one second of their moments together.
Now he had to tell her the truth and he needed the conversation to go well. If it didn’t, he would face whatever consequences ensued, and hoped they would
n’t be too disastrous.
The grand opening was in two weeks, and even if he could postpone it, he would not. The wait staff and cooks had been hired, and he’d sent invites to his friends in Hollywood and the culinary world.
A car pulled out from the left-hand side of the street and he slammed on the brakes. The vehicle had just enough room to squeeze into the line of traffic, and as soon as it was safe, Micah pulled into the vacated parking spot.
At the sight of his restaurant logo on the window, his brief exultation turned to dismay and his heart sank.
“What the hell is that doing there?”
The logo wasn’t supposed to go up until a couple of days before the grand opening. Then he wondered how long it had been there. No question Jasmine had seen it, or if not, she would soon.
All of a sudden something caught his eye in the rearview mirror. He turned and glanced behind his shoulder, half expecting to see Jasmine at the door of her grandmother’s restaurant, but it was only a customer exiting.
Micah turned back, relieved, and called his construction manager. When he asked how long the sign had been up, his fingers grabbed hold of the steering wheel when he heard the words over a week. Too shocked to argue, he thanked him and hung up.
“Arrgh!” he grit out, frustrated.
The error was likely due to miscommunication on someone’s part. Who exactly on his team was to blame he didn’t know, but it hardly mattered now.
He ran a hand over his hair, knowing what he had to do next, and got out of his car before he lost the courage.
The traffic had eased somewhat, but he still had to wait a few moments until it was safe to cross the street.
At Lucy’s, he tried to enter but the door wouldn’t budge. A sign indicated the restaurant was closed. Cupping his hands, he peered into the window and saw Jasmine sitting at the bar, with her back toward him.
He knocked on the glass until she turned around and noticed him. Instead of the smile he was expecting, she frowned and he knew that he was in for a battle.
She took her time getting to the door, her hips swaying with every slow step. His desire grew just by watching her walk, and he realized that she had a hold on him that would be devastating to lose.
When Jasmine opened the door, he gave her a sheepish grin.
“I guess you saw the sign.”
He moved to kiss her, but she stepped back and crossed her arms.
“Ya think?”
“Can I come in and explain?”
With a shrug of her shoulders, she ushered him in and then locked the door.
“Why are you closed in the middle of the day?”
She slid into a nearby booth. “We always close after lunch, in order to prepare for dinner, which is a good thing because I have some decisions to make.”
He sat down opposite her. “Any that involve me?”
“Everything is not about you, Micah.” She blew out a breath. “But then again, maybe it is.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look outside, would you?” Jasmine said, pointing toward the window. “I can’t believe you’re even asking me that question!”
The hurt look on her face made him close his eyes for a moment to say a quick prayer.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He slid his palms faceup across the table hoping she’d take the hint and put her hands in his. When she didn’t, he folded them back together and knew he’d need more than prayers to get him out of this jam.
He’d need a full-blown miracle.
“I’m not going to say that I tried to, because I didn’t.” He paused and licked his lips. “The truth is, I was scared.”
“You should be,” she insisted, eyes flashing. “Just because we’re a tiny restaurant doesn’t mean you can swoop into town and destroy us. Not without a fight.”
Micah sat back against the booth, half expecting her to reach over the table and throttle him. He grabbed a straw from the dispenser and unsheathed it from its paper, just to have something to do with his hands. “Just listen to me, okay?”
He could see the pain in her eyes, and knew there was a chance she would never forgive him.
“The building itself is owned by me and my business partners, who are also chefs and restaurant owners.”
“Sforkin Industries?”
He nodded and she added, “I went to the city records office and that’s all the information I could get, and when I did a search under that name on the internet, nothing came up. So, why did you decide to have your restaurant here, and not one of your partners?”
“Bay Point is not a very well-known city outside of Northern California. We decided that my restaurant would be better since I have more name recognition.”
Micah swallowed hard, hoping he didn’t sound as conceited as his statement.
“I assume the mayor knew, too?”
“Yes, Gregory and my entire family were under a nondisclosure agreement.”
Jasmine tucked an errant strand of hair behind one ear. “Great. Now Lucy and I look like idiots in front of the mayor, too.”
He slammed his fist down, angry at himself for putting her through this. She nearly jumped out of her seat and he immediately regretted the action.
“No, you don’t. I’m the idiot. I should have been honest with you from the very beginning,” he said more quietly. “I could have told you as soon as everything was decided.”
“I guess I can understand the need for a nondisclosure agreement,” Jasmine said, as she fiddled with the silverware. “But you still haven’t told me why it was so important to keep the truth from me.”
“I told you. I was afraid.”
She pushed the silverware aside, and the jangling noise hurt his ears. “I have a hard time believing a famous chef would be fearful of anything other than food poisoning.”
“I was afraid of losing you.”
Micah stared at her, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes, as his words hung in the air between them. He debated for only a minute, before he got out of his seat and slid in next to her.
He put two fingers under her chin and guided her face forward so he could look into her eyes.
“Don’t you believe me?”
She shook her head, and her eyes were moist.
“How can I, Micah? You can’t expect me to believe anything when you’ve lied to me for this long.”
His fingers drifted to the table, as if pulled down by a heavy weight. He kept his gaze on hers, until her lips parted. He wanted desperately to kiss her, but he knew that now was not the right time.
“But it no longer matters,” she continued and her voice sounded weary. “You’ll be dealing with me from now on. Not my grandmother. I own the restaurant now.”
In spite of the tense atmosphere, he smiled with pride. “I know that was a hard decision, but you’ll do a great job, especially if you follow some of the suggestions I made in New York.”
“At this point, I’m not sure if your advice is warranted, let alone, necessary.”
He knit his brows together, frustrated at her tone, even though he understood that she wasn’t happy with him. “If I wanted you to fail, do you think I would have been trying to help you all along?”
She massaged her temple with two fingers. If the wall between them could be seen and felt, Micah was sure it would be made of heavy grade steel.
“I don’t know what your motivation was, and I no longer care.”
She pressed her knee against his. Micah knew she wasn’t flirting with him, but wanted him to move out of the way. He couldn’t hold her prisoner in her own restaurant, so he reluctantly slid out of the booth.
“We’re not finished,” he said.
Jasmine held her chin high and looked him square in the eye as she opened the door.
“Yes we are. Thank you
for telling me the truth, although it’s a little too late. We’re competitors now. Though I didn’t realize it, I guess we always have been.”
“I didn’t come to Bay Point to hurt you.”
Nor to fall in love, he added to himself, as he stepped over the threshold. But that was exactly what had happened. Telling Jasmine his feelings now would only make things worse.
Tears splashed down her face. “Oh really? I wish you’d never come home at all! I wish I’d never met you!”
She slammed the door shut. The closed sign swung back and forth across the glass like a pendulum, mocking him.
Chapter 12
Two weeks later.
Jasmine finished refilling a bunch of soda orders, free for all customers that day, and then nodded at the repairman as he edged through the swinging kitchen doors, toolbox in hand.
The air conditioning system had broken for the third time that week, and she cringed in fearful anticipation of the bill. Since she’d taken ownership of the restaurant, it seemed as though everything that could go wrong, had gone wrong.
In addition to the air conditioner, the dishwasher was on the fritz, too. Some of her suppliers had raised their prices, forcing her to start the search for new ones. Donnie, her longtime busboy, had quit and taken an assistant manager trainee position over at another restaurant. She’d taken over his duties, and continued to help with bartending and waitressing, too.
Worse, she and Micah weren’t speaking. It wasn’t his fault entirely. He’d called and texted her multiple times, which she ignored. She loved him, but wasn’t ready to mend fences yet.
The repairman slid his invoice across the bar, a grim look on his face, and she gasped at the amount circled in red. It was higher than he’d quoted her when he arrived that morning.
“I had to get creative because the parts you need aren’t made anymore. This unit is so old you’ll save more money in the long run by replacing it.”
She wiped the sweat from her forehead, and moved in front of the small fan she’d set up at the back of the bar.
“It’ll start to cool down in here soon. Better shut those windows in front,” he continued and dug a business card out of his shirt pocket. “I wrote down the model number of the unit I recommend. This company will give you a fair price, and they always have some in stock.”
Winning Her Heart Page 15