Thank God Charles called everyone to order by tapping his knife on his crystal wine goblet.
“May I have everyone’s attention, please? Thank you for coming out to help me celebrate the women I love.” He paused for effect and it worked.
People swooned. Liam couldn’t keep from smiling because the guy was so obviously in love.
“Yes, it feels good to finally be able to say it out loud.” He turned to Gigi and took her hand. “My darling, I love you. Why did we keep this happiness from ourselves for so long? Too long. But I guess the most important thing is that we’re here now. We may be in our mideighties, but it doesn’t lessen the love we feel for each other.”
Gigi nodded and someone began pinging a crystal goblet and chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” The others joined in. Charles and Gigi didn’t disappoint them.
“Now, where was I?” Charles said. “You’re getting me all hot and bothered, and I have something very important to do here.”
He handed his glass to Daniel and took Gigi’s hands in his. “My darling, I’ve lost track of how many years I’ve loved you. Shall we suffice to say that my love for you spans the ages and will last through eternity? Will you do me the great honor of being my wife?”
Charles reached into the breast pocket of his suit and pulled out a small blue box. Gigi’s hands flew to her mouth as she nodded. He slid the large diamond into her finger.
As everyone rushed up to the happy couple to congratulate them, Liam’s phone rang. He glanced at the number, intending to silence it, but when he saw the 718 area code—Brooklyn—something made him answer.
“Hello?” he said as he left the room, intending to take the call outside.
“Liam Wright?” asked a male voice. “This is Detective Walt Skenetti of the 84th Precinct of the New York City Police Department in Brooklyn. Is Malcom Wright your father?”
Liam’s blood froze in his veins. “Yes. Why?”
“I regret to inform you that your dad has been shot in the line of duty.”
Chapter Ten
After Liam booked himself on a red-eye flight to New York, he was stubbornly insisting on calling for a car to take him to the airport, but Jane put her foot down.
“At the risk of being a know-it-all, I think you’re the one who’s being unduly stubborn for not letting me take you to the airport. I’m right around the corner. If you let me take you, it would make me feel like I was doing something to help.”
“If you put it that way...” he said.
As they pulled up to the passenger drop-off area at the airport, Liam said, “I’m sorry for being such a jerk in New York. I really am deeply sorry. Usually, when I treat people like that, they leave me. I’m glad you’re still here.”
Her breath caught, but she took a slow, deep breath and forced herself not to read more into it than it really was. She forced herself to be quiet and not fill the heavy silence. Jane could tell by looking at him that he wanted to say something.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he said. “Getting the call that my father could be dying and knowing that I might’ve just blown the last chance to make amends will do that.”
His face was shadowed as he sat in the passenger seat, but she still saw his throat work as he swallowed.
“I guess I’ve been acting like I have all the time in the world...” He shrugged. “Like my business and the things I need to do are more important than...”
He sighed and shrugged. “I’m trying to tell you that you didn’t deserve to be treated the way I treated you in New York. I was a total jackass. I guess I’ve been acting like a jackass for a while now and it seems like it’s suddenly catching up with me...
“I’m not trying to make excuses, but all my life I felt like I was chasing a dream and everything was just outside of my grasp. When I won America’s Best Chef, things started falling into place, but every time something clicked, I felt like I had to work harder, run faster, not let any grass grow under me or I might lose it all. But since I got word about my dad, I’ve been thinking about what’s important.
“It’s not the life I’ve been chasing. It’s the one I’ve been running away from. I’ve had a very clear vision of it and that that life includes you, Jane. But I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t feel the same way. Hell, I wouldn’t blame you if you were the one who turned around and ran the other way.”
Jane wanted to say something, but the words were stuck in her throat. She wanted to reach out and hug him, but she was afraid if she did, her touch would break the spell and he would realize it was just the heightened emotions of the moment making him say these things. Once he got to New York and learned that his father was fine, he’d remember all the reasons she didn’t fit into the life that he’d worked so hard to build from scratch and he’d push her away again.
He opened his car door and stepped out, got his suitcase out of the back seat. Jane still couldn’t find any words that would make the situation right, but she managed to nod when he asked, “Can we talk about things when I get back from New York? Because I do need you, Jane. I need you.”
* * *
The next morning, Jane checked her phone for about the hundredth time, hoping to see a text from Liam with an update on his father. The screen was persistently unchanged since the couple of exchanges they’d had after he’d arrived at Mount Sinai Hospital. The last she’d heard was that his father was in surgery and in critical condition.
It was touch and go.
Now, all Jane could do was wait and pray that his dad would pull through—and help out at Wila for as long as Liam needed to be away.
This morning, she and Charles were falling back into their old pre-Liam rhythm, but they were following Liam’s newly established protocol. Things in the kitchen were exactly the same, but completely different than before Liam had come to Savannah.
It felt like something—or someone—was missing.
As the clock ticked toward 9:00 a.m., Charles, Jane and Joe Donoghue, Wila’s sous chef, who had agreed to step up in Liam’s absence, were the only ones in so far this morning. The rest of the kitchen staff wouldn’t arrive for another hour. Jane was eager for the hustle and bustle to begin because the quiet gave her too much time to think.
Even as she prepared an army of mini mousse cakes—one of three offerings for the evening’s dessert menu—she was having a hard time concentrating. The cakes were simple, a dome of chocolate hazelnut mousse nestled atop a brownie base and covered in a dark chocolate mirror glaze. It was a good thing she could prepare the recipe with her eyes shut, because her mind kept drifting to Liam and his father and what Liam had said to her at the airport after he’d gotten out of the car.
Can we talk about things when I get back from New York?
“Hey, darlin’.” Gigi’s voice startled Jane. She jumped and some of the mousse she was pouring into the mold sloshed onto the stainless-steel table. She turned around and saw her grandmother standing there clutching a small basket. “You looked far away. Any news from Liam?”
“Not yet. I keep checking.” Jane nodded to her phone that she’d propped up against the wall at her station. “What do you have there?”
“It’s Charles’s breakfast. He loves my egg sandwiches. He had to be here so early. I thought I’d bring him some sustenance. You know how men are. Even if they work in the food industry, they’d starve their silly selves to death if they didn’t have someone looking out for them.”
Jane thought about the Russ & Daughters bagels Liam had gotten for her in New York. The guy had prided himself on being an island for so many years, he knew how to take care of himself. It had been a matter of self-preservation. He’d just started letting her in when he’d freaked out and closed the door.
“You love him,” Gigi said. “Don’t you?”
Jane blanched. She looked around to see if Joe was standing near enough to o
verhear Gigi, but she didn’t see him.
“He loves you, too. I can tell. I don’t know why you two nincompoops are fighting it, but don’t wait until you’re eighty-five years old. Don’t waste the best years of your life when you could be enjoying them together.”
She hadn’t even told Gigi the full story, but somehow her grandmother knew. “Gigi—”
“Don’t ‘Gigi’ me, honey. And don’t wait for him to text you an update. Go to him. If the worst happens, he’s going to need you there for support. If the best happens, and we’re all praying everything will be okay, you two can talk things out. If the mountain won’t come to Moses, then Moses must go to the mountain.”
“I think it’s Muhammad, not Moses, Gigi.”
Gigi laughed. “Why do you always have to be right, you silly goose? Actually, in this case we’re both wrong. It’s Jane. Jane is the one who needs to go to the mountain. Because if you don’t, you’ll be making a mountain of a mistake.”
* * *
Several hours after the surgery, Malcom Wright’s condition had been updated from critical to stable. He would be moved from the intensive care unit to progressive care until the doctors were satisfied with his progress.
The attending doctor who’d looked in on him had said that Malcom’s road to recovery would be long and challenging, but he was alive and they were optimistic that he would continue to improve.
Malcom had been conscious and alert enough to indicate that he was glad to see Liam, who had apologized to his father for the scene he’d caused when Jane had arranged the meeting.
“I thought she would’ve told you about the meeting,” he’d said. “But don’t hold it against her. I don’t. The same way I don’t hold your walking out against you. The only thing that would’ve made your mother happier than us mending our ways was to know that you’d found someone to share all your success. My gut tells me that this Jane is a keeper.”
In the moment, Liam had noncommittally shrugged off his dad’s assessment of Jane, turning the attention back on Malcom and telling him they’d talk about it later.
In reality, he hadn’t known what to say to his dad about Jane. It was one thing to apologize to Jane for overreacting, it was another to talk to her to see if they could work things out. But what did that mean? Thinking of sharing his life with her was an altogether separate scary plane of its own. The thought set off all his internal alarms and sent his walls of self-protection flying up and locking in place.
What the hell was wrong with him?
Jane was the perfect woman for him. She understood him. She wasn’t afraid to call him on his BS. In all the areas of his life, she made him want to be a better person.
But he was such a flawed person, he had so much baggage that he’d been dragging around his whole life, the thought of setting it down and letting someone love him—the thought of rendering himself vulnerable and opening himself up to getting hurt—made him want to run.
But what kind of life did you have if you didn’t take chances?
As they prepared to move his dad to a different floor, Liam sat in the intensive care waiting room where the nurses had directed him and said they’d update him on where he could find his father. He’d texted Jane, but she hadn’t replied. She’d asked him to keep her updated, but of course she would. She was that kind of person—kind, caring, hated to see someone suffering.
Her lack of response made him hesitate to text her again. He didn’t want to bombard her with messages. He glanced at his watch. It was 3:00 p.m. This was a busy time at the restaurant as they prepared to open the doors at 5:00 p.m. She’d been gracious enough to step in at the restaurant, not only in her capacity as executive pastry chef, but also helping Charles oversee day-to-day operations of the kitchen while he was away.
Liam rubbed his eyes, trying to erase the fatigue. He was tired and hungry—but sleep and food would have to wait until after his father was settled.
So he sat there trying not to think about Jane, contemplating instead, how the timing of this emergency wasn’t optimal.
But when did crisis ever take convenience into consideration?
He hadn’t been willing to make time for his father when he’d been well. This was a wake-up call that was making him reevaluate everything that was important to him.
Jane is important.
Again, he looked at his phone to see if Jane had replied. She hadn’t. He mentally shook off his disappointment as he clicked off his phone. He’d been given a second chance to make things right with his dad. While he wouldn’t blame Jane for not wanting to give him a chance to make up for all his mistakes—hell, he had to call them what they were. Mistakes. He, who had such a low tolerance for mistakes and had a hard time giving others a second chance, seemed to need a lot of grace right now.
“Liam?”
In the split second before he looked up, the nurse’s voice sounded exactly like Jane’s. Then when he saw Jane standing in front of him, looking like an angel in cropped jeans and a white gauzy top, he stood. She closed the distance between them and the feel of her in his arms, the scent of jasmine and vanilla and cinnamon, canceled any doubt that he was wide awake. Holding her was balm for his soul.
“You’re here,” he said. “You came all this way?”
“I did.” Her words sounded tentative. “I figured you probably hadn’t eaten.”
That’s when he noticed the paper bag in her hand.
“I brought you something to eat. I thought you might be hungry.”
“I’m starving.”
She handed him the bag.
“I got your text when I got off the plane,” she said. “I’m glad your father’s doing well. Is everything still okay?”
“It is.” Liam told her that they were moving him to progressive care and he was waiting to learn the details.
“That’s such good news. I didn’t reply because...” She shrugged. “Well, I wanted to answer you in person.”
“Even better,” he said.
“Really?” She drew in a breath and he realized she seemed nervous.
“Yes. Really.”
“Oh, good. I was afraid that showing up might seem presumptuous. But, obviously, that didn’t stop me.” She lifted one shoulder and let it fall on an exhale. “I knew if I asked if you wanted me to come, you’d say no, but then I’d wonder if you really didn’t want me here or if you were just being polite and not wanting me to make the trip. But I had to come. I figured you were looking out for your father, but I kept wondering who was taking care of you?”
He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had cared whether he was okay. Not since his mom had died. Looking back, sure, his father had cared in his own way, but he’d been so broken over the loss, he’d kept Liam at arm’s length.
Arm’s length had become a way of life.
Liam couldn’t remember the last time he’d let anyone close enough for them to care for him...like Jane cared.
But it was clear that Jane, in her stubborn persistence, wasn’t going to let him push her away. Now, he needed to figure out exactly what he was going to do about it... About them.
* * *
After a day and a half in the progressive care unit, Malcom Wright was strong and stable enough to be moved to a regular room. With this news, Liam had decided he could finally leave the hospital and return to his own apartment for the first time since arriving back in New York after his father’s accident.
Jane had been staying at the apartment for the two nights that she been in New York.
Liam had made it clear that he was happy she had come to New York, even after she’d asked him if it would be a bigger help to him if she went back to Savannah and worked with Charles. But when they had spoken with Charles, he had assured them that Jane’s assistant, Tilly, was more than capable to hold down the pastry fort until Jane could return.
“It’s more important that you be there for Liam and his father right now,” Charles had said.
Jane had deferred to Liam, because even though she had taken it upon herself to come to New York, she’d wanted to make sure he was sure. He’d answered her with a deep kiss that left absolutely no doubt in her mind about how much he wanted her in New York.
As if that wasn’t enough, he’d then suggested that they have dinner at La Bula.
“My dad wants me to stop hovering,” Liam laughed. “How about if we grab a bite to eat at La Bula tonight?”
La Bula.
That was a big step.
She hadn’t brought anything suitable to wear to dinner at Liam’s restaurant.
“Let me treat you to something nice,” he said. “I will see you at the restaurant for a late dinner. How about ten? I’m sorry it’s so late, but that will be the best time for us to have dinner without any interruptions.”
She had been so stunned that he wanted to have dinner at La Bula, she hadn’t even had the presence of mind to realize he might have suggested the place because he needed to check in.
Still, it didn’t escape her that he had asked her to join him. She’d given him the perfect out when she’d said she didn’t have anything to wear. He could’ve suggested dinner at his place. He could’ve picked up something from the La Bula kitchen and brought it home with him.
But he didn’t. He’d asked her to join him.
He’d even reserved a table for them.
The jumble of knots in her stomach cinched tighter. She couldn’t help but think about what had transpired the last time she was at La Bula. The night he’d fired her in front of the entire kitchen staff. Sure, there would’ve been some turnover since she left, but the cornerstones of his kitchen were still in place. Maybe this was his way of making it up to her... Maybe this was his way of going public with their relationship. Because she couldn’t imagine that he would kiss her the way he had in the hospital and sleep with her in his bed after taking her to his restaurant if this wasn’t a relationship.
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