by Joanna Sims
“Anyway.” Lachlan folded his hands together on the table between them, his expression suddenly serious. “You’ve got quite an impressive résumé. The list of restaurants you’ve worked for reads like the Michelin Guide.”
“Thank you.” Her cheeks flushed a little but her stomach tightened as she anticipated his next question: Why did you leave your last job? She’d already decided only to tell him the bare basics and hope he didn’t scrounge around too much online, but miraculously he went much further back than that.
“Can you tell me how you got into the restaurant business?”
She nodded, knowing he’d eventually ask the inevitable but happy to put it off a little longer. “My father was a restaurant critic and my parents were divorced. On the weekends I spent with my dad, he often took me along when he dined for a review. I guess his passion for good food rubbed off on me. I’ve wanted to work in restaurants for as long as I can remember.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “If you loved food so much, why not become a chef?”
Although she willed them not to, she felt her cheeks turn an even brighter shade of red. She dreaded this question almost as much as the other one. A tiny voice inside her head told her to lie, but she knew from experience that doing so could get her into very hot water. Besides, with Lachlan’s big brown eyes trained so intently on her, she didn’t think she’d be able to tell even the smallest fib.
“Because I can’t cook,” she confessed.
When his expression remained blank, she went on. “I’ve tried. Lord knows, Dad paid for every cooking school he could get me into when I was a teenager, but after the fire department had to be called when I burned down the kitchen, word got around.”
A small smile broke on his face. “Seriously? You burned down a kitchen?”
She hung her head in shame and mentally kicked herself. Probably not the best way to sell yourself, Eliza. “It was not my finest moment, and after that my grandmother tried to convince me to go into medicine or journalism or law, anything that kept me away from food, but I just couldn’t give up, so I got a job as a waitress instead. Finally, I found something I was good at. Talking about food, serving food and customer service. I haven’t looked back.”
“Well, usually at this point, I’d ask what your favorite dish to cook is, but I’m predicting microwave popcorn or something, and that’s not really what I had in mind.”
She grimaced. “Good. Because I burn that, as well.”
“At least you’re honest. Lucky I’m not interviewing for the kitchen. So tell me your favorite dish to eat instead.”
Millions of foods whirled through her head—it was like asking someone to pick their favorite child, not that she would ever know how that felt. “That really depends on the situation,” she said, mentally shaking her head at the dark thoughts that threatened. “If I’m dining out somewhere classy, you can’t go wrong with duck confit or a good pan-seared salmon fillet, but if I want comfort food, it’s mac’n’cheese every time.”
Her heart squeezed a little at the thought of Grammy Louise’s mac’n’cheese—the food she’d practically lived on the last couple of months.
“Then you’ll be pleased to know I actually plan on having a mac’n’cheese on our menu—not just any old mac’n’cheese, of course. You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted my whiskey-and-bacon take on the old favorite.”
Her mouth watered. “That sounds amazing. What else are you planning for the menu?”
Obviously pleased by this question, Lachlan began to speak animatedly about the dishes he’d been experimenting with. “I want hearty food with a unique flair, showcasing McKinnel’s whiskey as much as possible. Every table will get a complimentary basket of whiskey soda bread, and for starters, we’ll offer things like smoked turkey Reuben sliders, scotch deviled eggs and a whiskey-cheese fondue to share. The mains will be even more whiskey focused, featuring slow-cooked bourbon-glazed ribs, a blue cheese burger in which I mix whiskey into the ground beef...”
He went on and on—listing more delicious dishes, including a steak sandwich with bourbon-sauteed mushrooms and a vegetarian option of butternut squash gnocchi with whiskey cream sauce. Eliza made a conscious effort not to drool.
“I love the sound of all of that,” she said, genuine excitement pumping through her body. “You’re making me very hungry.”
“Really?” He grinned, clearly pleased by her response. “And I haven’t even started on dessert yet.”
“I can hardly wait,” she replied. Food was something she could talk about till the cows came home and talking about it with Lachlan made her realize how much she’d missed it.
“How does caramel-and-whiskey sauce with steamed sponge pudding sound?”
“Oh. My. God.” She couldn’t help moaning at the thought.
“Or are pumpkin pancakes with bourbon-vanilla maple syrup more your style? Perhaps you like the sound of blueberry-bourbon-cream-cheese pie or maple-bourbon ice cream.”
The way he spoke about the food sounded almost seductive and she felt goose bumps sprout on her arms.
“Please stop!” She begged, an alien bubble of laughter escaping her throat. “I didn’t eat breakfast and I can’t take this anymore.”
His lips twisted with amusement. “Why didn’t you say so? I just happened to have been playing with my recipe for an Irish apple crisp. How about you taste test for me while we finish the interview?”
Lachlan pushed back his chair to stand before she could reply, and as he did so, the door to the restaurant flung open and they both turned to look. A tall, skinny woman with immaculate makeup and peroxide-blond hair stood there, a girl with a sullen expression at her side.
“Linda! Hallie! What are you guys doing here?” He rushed toward them, stooping to give the girl a hug. “Why aren’t you at school? Is something wrong?”
“I need you to look after Hallie for a while,” said the woman Eliza presumed must be Linda. “I’m going to LA to look after my sick aunt. She’s got cancer.”
Eliza’s heart went out to the woman and her aunt, but when she looked to Lachlan, the smile he’d been wearing seconds earlier had vanished from his face.
“You don’t have an aunt!” he exclaimed.
Linda narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t know everything about me, Lachlan. Maybe if you’d paid more attention, our marriage wouldn’t have ended in tatters.”
“What the...?” Lachlan’s eyes bulged, but he took one look at Hallie and didn’t finish his question. When he spoke again, it was clear he was trying to control his annoyance. “Aunt or no aunt, you can’t just take Hallie to LA. And if you think you can...”
“Re-lax.” Linda’s tone was condescending. “Of course, I can’t take Hallie with me. That’s why she’s staying with you for a while.”
“What?”
Ignoring Lachlan’s one-word question, Linda bent and drew the little girl into her arms, kissing her on her golden pigtailed head. “Be good for Daddy. I’ll call you from LA.”
She straightened again and took a step toward the door as if that was that, but Lachlan’s words halted her in her tracks. “Oh, no, you don’t, Linda. We need to talk. Kitchen. Now.”
Linda glanced at her watch, let out a dramatic sigh and then flicked her long hair over her shoulder. “Fine, but I don’t have long. My plane leaves in two hours.”
Lachlan looked to his daughter and smiled warmly. “Hallie, you wait here. Mom and I will be out in a moment.” Then, dragging the woman by the arm, he led her into the kitchen and slammed the door shut, leaving Eliza alone with the little girl.
She stared at the child. Lately, she couldn’t even handle being around her best friend’s children, never mind strangers’ offspring.
“Hello,” she said after a few moments of silence. Despite her own discomfort at finding herself in the middle of a family drama, Eliza felt for the
girl. Although she didn’t know the ins and outs of the situation, it was clear this child was Lachlan’s daughter, that her mother was dumping her here unexpectedly and her father didn’t seem pleased with the news.
However dire her own life was, this was a stark reminder that she wasn’t the only one with problems. And a kid as cute as this one should not have to deal with such rejection. It made her blood boil.
“Who are you?” the little girl replied.
“I’m Eliza,” she said with what she hoped was a friendly smile. “Your dad is interviewing me to work in his new restaurant. Did I hear your name was Hallie?”
“Yep.” The girl shuffled forward and flopped into the chair Lachlan had just vacated. The sigh that slipped from her lips sounded far too heavy for someone who could only be about eight years old, nine max.
Before either of them could say another word, raised voices sounded from the kitchen.
“Do you not want her?” Linda shouted.
“Do you want to play a game?” Eliza asked loudly. She’d borne witness to a number of screaming matches between her own parents before they divorced and she didn’t believe any child should have to hear such things. Especially not their mom questioning their dad’s love for them.
Hallie rolled her eyes. “It’s okay. I’m used to my parents fighting and I’ve been waiting for this day for as long as I can remember.”
“What do you mean?” Eliza found herself asking. “Has your mom’s aunt been sick for a while?”
Hallie laughed. “I’ve never even met my mom’s aunt. I meant I’ve been waiting for her to get rid of me like she did my brother.” Before Eliza could ask what she meant, Hallie added, “My twin brother has got a condition called cerebral palsy that made Mommy not want him.”
The little girl’s words shocked Eliza and she found herself unsure of what to say, but Hallie continued on in a matter-of-fact way, “Oh, that’s not the story she or Daddy will tell you. They say they grew apart like grown-ups sometimes do and took a child each, but I’m not stupid. I go to Daddy’s house every second weekend but Mommy never takes Hamish. That’s my brother by the way.”
“I see.” Eliza’s heart hurt—in her research for the interview, she’d read an article on the internet saying that Lachlan had sole custody of a son with special needs, but she’d never imagined the reason why.
“And if Mommy can give up Hamish, then I always knew that one day she might also give up me.”
“But she’s not giving you up,” Eliza rushed to reassure the child. “She’s going to look after your sick relative.”
Hallie shrugged. “I’m actually glad. Daddy and Hamish live with Grandma Nora, and now I will, too. She’s the best. And I already have my own bedroom there.”
Despite the child’s attempt at bravado, Eliza saw her lower lip wobble and knew the girl was close to tears. Poor precious little thing. Eliza didn’t blame her. But she did blame her parents. Fighting within earshot of her and both carrying on as if looking after her was a hassle. Some people didn’t know how lucky they were.
The voices in the kitchen grew louder, more irate, and no matter Hallie’s declaration that she was used to this kind of thing, Eliza couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. She got to her feet and held her hand out to the little girl. “Will you show me round the distillery gardens?” While we wait for your parents to finish, she added silently. “I loved what I saw when I drove in.”
Hallie raised an eyebrow and took a moment to reply as if she knew this was a ploy to get her away from the firing line, but then she pushed her own seat back and stood. “Okay,” she said. “If you insist. Come on.”
As Eliza followed Lachlan’s daughter to the door, she glanced in the direction of the kitchen... This interview was not at all going how she’d hoped.
Copyright © 2018 by Rachael Johns
ISBN-13: 9781488093425
A Bride for Liam Brand
Copyright © 2018 by Joanna Sims
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