And for the first time, it really became clear what she’d missed by letting go of them. The support, the cheer, just knowing they’d be there for her.
She wanted to bury her face in Evelyn’s shoulder, the way she might have as a child with her mother. She didn’t, but Evelyn seemed to sense what she needed anyway.
“It’s good to have you back, dear.” And though her hug wasn’t as strong or bone-crunching as Gus’s had been, it was just as powerful. She stroked the back of Julia’s head. “Just give it a minute.”
And when Julia felt the prickling behind her eyes subside, she gave Evelyn another squeeze. “Thank you.”
“Anytime. You’re family now.”
Not like family. Family. Julia darted a look at Donovan. It was the same thing he’d said.
“Told you,” he mouthed.
“Did you tell them to say that?” she whispered in his ear a minute later when she finally let go of Evelyn.
“Have you met my parents? No one tells them to do anything.”
Julia received a hug from Mal, too, which was just as warm if less effusive.
“My turn.” Owen, the only one she hadn’t let go because he refused to be dropped, horned his way in.
“I don’t think I’m talking to you,” Julia told him. “Since you can’t keep a secret.”
“I didn’t tell your secret. Sasha told your secret.” He pulled her into a hug. “It’s good to see you. And if my brother blows it with you again, I’d like to state for the record that a) he didn’t come to me for advice and b) I’m available to travel.”
“She’s not going anywhere with you,” Donovan said. But there was a smile in his voice and on his face.
As they settled into their seats and conversation, Julia’s heart grew full. This was how family should be. Loving, welcoming, supportive. She’d missed it. And them.
The food was good, though her chicken was just a shade overdone. Not enough that most people would notice and nowhere near the point of dry. But verging on it. She wouldn’t have let it out of her kitchen. The kitchen, she reminded herself. No matter that her name was still on the door. No matter that it looked good there. This was no longer her restaurant or kitchen. But she made a mental note to talk to Sasha about it.
Just because La Petite Bouchée was no longer hers didn’t mean she wanted it to fail.
They laughed and talked, enjoying their meals and dessert, and as the night wore on, Julia felt some of her fears slide away. She was happy here. She looked around the room, taking it in as a customer instead of a chef. It was classy and comfortable. She and Donovan had done a good job. An amazing job.
And she wasn’t the only one enjoying it. The Fords were, too, along with everyone else in the restaurant. Julia felt a niggle of loss. That she’d let this go and walked away. She missed it. Maybe she always would.
But that was her issue to deal with.
A round of coffee had just been poured when Donovan stood up, drawing the attention of everyone at the table. “I think now is a good time.”
A good time for what? But when Julia glanced around the table, no one else seemed surprised by the announcement. The Fords didn’t seem to think anything was odd or amiss. They all watched Donovan with the occasional eye flick to her. She looked back to Donovan, intending to ask what was happening, but she didn’t get her chance.
“As many of you know, I didn’t want to buy this restaurant.”
Julia wondered where he was going with this. They’d been back only a week, and during that time, he’d promised to let her figure things out on her own. Of course, he’d also forced her to come to La Petite Bouchée.
“And as I’ve told Julia, I’ve come to realize the error of my ways.”
“Donovan.” She tried to interrupt. Other people were beginning to notice him standing in the middle of the room making a speech. “What are you doing?”
“I’m making a speech.” He winked and plowed ahead as though she hadn’t warned him at all. “Some of you may know that I’ve been trying to work out ownership terms with my lovely and talented chef.” Julia opened her mouth to tell him that she wasn’t the chef here anymore, but he just kept talking. “But no matter what I offer, she turns me down. It seems I might have said something during our initial meeting about keeping all ownership in the family.”
“You did say that,” Julia felt obligated to point out. She could feel the eyes on her now. Her face felt hot and she shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t want to talk about this. Not here and not in front of his family.
“I did.” Donovan looked only at her. “And I’ve thought of a solution.”
Julia caught movement by the kitchen door, saw Sasha and some of the other staff come through. What was going on? Were they all going to try to convince her? And would she be able to keep up the pretense with all of them watching her, urging her to admit what was in her heart? That she was afraid, but she still wanted the restaurant more than she could say.
“Julia Suzanne Laurent.”
She whipped her head around and saw that Donovan had gotten down on one knee.
“Donovan.” Julia’s voice was a whisper now. “What are you doing?” But she didn’t need to ask. It was pretty obvious when he got down on one knee and pulled out a black velvet box and flipped the lid to reveal a stunning ring. A single square diamond surrounded by a circle of sparkling diamonds.
“It was my grandmother’s ring that I had repurposed. A little bit of tradition and a little bit of innovation. Just like us.”
Her chest felt full—too full. “When did you do this?”
“I called my mom from Paris, asked her to take it to a good jeweler.”
She swallowed and looked at the ring again. It wasn’t at all what she would have picked herself, but now that she’d seen it, she couldn’t imagine anything else. “Pretty sure of yourself, weren’t you?”
“Hopeful.”
Owen cough-talked into his hand. “Desperate.”
Julia bit her lip to keep from laughing.
Donovan shot a glare at his brother and continued. “I had a special chain made, one with hooks where you can attach the ring, so you don’t have to worry about it when you’re working. So I’d like to know—will you marry me?”
Julia looked at him, then the ring, then him. He was offering her everything. His heart, his name, his family. All she had to do was accept. All she had to do was believe. Believe that he meant what he said. That he loved her. She looked into his eyes and saw there was only one possible answer.
“Yes.” And the band, when he slid it on her finger, felt warm and comforting. The people at their table began to clap, as did the rest of the restaurant.
Donovan rose and gathered her into his arms. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
He laughed quietly, the sound rumbling against her ear. “I love hearing you say that. Tell me again.”
She obliged twice before Sasha interrupted them, demanding a hug from the soon-to-be bride, then Mal, Owen, Gus and Evelyn, and Julia found herself surrounded by friends and family, those she loved and who loved her in return. It felt good.
Sasha pulled her aside for another hug as the rest of the staff filed back into the kitchen. “Donovan was so sweet. Do you know he came by and asked for my permission?”
“He did?” Julia glanced over her shoulder at Donovan. At her fiancé. More love than she’d thought existed filled her up. Her mother was gone and she didn’t know who her father was, but Donovan had still given her the traditions she needed in the only way possible. She wiped at her suddenly wet eyes.
“Yes. And once I was assured that he could be trusted with your heart, I told him I’d be thrilled.”
Julia wiped her eyes a little harder. “Does this mean you’re planning to give me away?” She sniffled as she thought of her mom and of the family she was about to join. “Because I sort of thought you’d be my maid of honor.”
Sasha flung her arms around her. “I can do b
oth. I’m so happy for you.”
Julia sniffled some more.
“Do not get snot on my chef jacket. Food safety.”
Julia gave a watery laugh. “Then you’d better stop hugging me.” But she was grateful that Sasha didn’t. She was grateful for everything right now.
Sasha had to go back to the kitchen and invited Julia to come with her, to say hello to those who hadn’t come out and show off her ring. Julia’s initial instinct was to decline. Actually, no. That wasn’t true. Her first instinct was to fly back there to greet everyone with a big hug and make sure they were taking care of her kitchen.
“I don’t want to interrupt service.”
Sasha’s eyebrows lifted. “And why not? Too good for the likes of us now that you’re an owner?”
Julia glanced over at the swinging door that led to the kitchen and, at one time, her salvation.
“They’ll be pissed if they hear you were here and didn’t pop in.” Sasha laid a warm hand on her shoulder. “Come on, chef.”
Julia’s throat tightened. Chef. She hadn’t been called that since she left La Petite Bouchée.
“Don’t you want to check and make sure nothing has burned down? I’d tell you everything is fine, but there was that one pan. The one you used for veggies and, well... Poof. But it led a good life.”
“You burned my veggie pan?” That had been her favorite pan.
“See? We need you.”
They needed her, just as she needed them. She swallowed. Maybe it was time to make her decision. One way or the other, she needed to step out of limbo and into her future. Possibility rose in her chest, made her pulse flutter.
As much as she’d appreciated the easiness of the brunch gig, it hadn’t even provided enough satisfaction in the short-term. Eggs and waffles, bacon and sausage weren’t why she’d attended culinary school, weren’t why she’d spent six years in France studying under the toughest and best chefs she could find.
She needed her own kitchen again.
The image of her name on the door flashed through her head again.
“Hey.” Donovan put a hand on her shoulder. “You ready to come back to the table? We have champagne.”
“In a minute. There’s something I need to do.” She kissed him, took a bracing breath and looked at Sasha. “Let’s go.”
She needn’t have worried about her kitchen. It was just as she’d left it. Including her veggie pan. She sent Sasha a pointed look when she saw it, with nary a scorch mark, being used to sauté the holy trinity—onions, bell peppers and celery. The crew swarmed her when she stepped up to the pass and called out the next order. They wanted to know she was okay, wanted to know when she was coming back and wanted to know if, since she was marrying the owner—word traveled fast in the kitchen—she’d put in a good word to get them all a raise. She laughed and joked and even handled a couple of orders as easily as if she’d never been away.
She couldn’t stop smiling when she got back to the table.
Donovan leaned over to put his hand on her leg. He did that a lot, always looking for ways to touch her, as though assuring himself that she was still here. She liked it.
She put her hand on top of his, feeling the pressure of the new ring around her finger.
She looked down at her hand. The engagement ring felt different—not heavy or ungainly, just different. There was something where she’d been used to having nothing. She tilted her hand from side to side so the diamond caught the light and sparkled. He’d even bought her a special-made chain so she could wear it at work.
Donovan leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “It suits you.”
“You suit me.” She pressed more closely against him.
Owen popped the cork on the champagne and poured a row of flutes. The liquid bubbled up but never over the top. He pressed a glass into everyone’s hands.
They toasted and tasted, and after another round of hugging, everyone sat down. Donovan leaned closer. “I do have one more bit of news.”
His hand slid up her thigh, making her shudder. “Donovan, your family.” But when she darted a glance around the table, no one seemed to be paying much attention. Still, as welcoming and easygoing as Gus and Evelyn were, Julia didn’t think they’d appreciate it if she and Donovan started making out.
“Not that.” But his hand slid a little higher.
Julia put her hand on top of his. Not to remove it, but just to keep him from pushing farther.
Donovan chuckled, the sound sending another warm shiver through her. He raised his voice, garnering the notice of everyone else. “I think it’s time for her engagement gift.” He gave her a brief squeeze before sitting up straight. “This is something from all of us.”
From all of them? Julia looked from face to face, seeing friendly and accepting stares. From all of them. Because she was one of them, or pretty darn close. They loved her, and Donovan loved her. She felt impossibly full, as though rainbows and canaries were going to explode out of her in a sparkly shower of joy. “I don’t need an engagement gift.” She already felt spoiled.
Impossibly spoiled. Luckiest-girl-in-the-world spoiled.
“We’d like to give you shares in the restaurant.”
Julia’s breath caught. What? But, but... Her thoughts devolved into a jumble of yes and she’d start tomorrow and had the Fords read her mind or was she just that obvious? She focused. Tonight had made what she wanted so blatantly obvious. All she had to do was say yes. But she’d already made her decision.
“No.” The word was drawn out, long and slow and full of the thoughts still bounding around in her brain.
A circle of surprised faces looked back at her.
“I mean,” she hurried to clarify, “that I won’t simply take shares. I’ll earn them.”
Donovan leaned toward her, whispered in her ear, “I have a few ideas I’d like to propose.”
“You’re lucky you’re cute.” He grinned and kissed her and it felt good. Better than that, it felt right. This all did.
She took a breath and looked back at the table. “I want to come back as chef. If that’s what you had in mind.”
They were all nodding as if that should have been obvious. “There was a reason we haven’t changed the signage.”
In her mind’s eye, Julia saw her name in that beautiful font beside the front door. “Okay. Good. And I’ll work for those shares. I have some money saved, too.”
“Julia.” Donovan put his arm around her. “This is a gift. You’re family now.”
She hesitated and looked around at the Fords’ smiling faces. She realized that was true. She was part of their family, had been becoming one of them for weeks now. She saw the smiles of the servers who were nearby, those who’d obviously overheard Donovan’s announcement, and she realized they were still part of her family, too. Even if she hadn’t seen them in weeks, they still wanted her to be happy, were happy for her.
“Say yes, Julia. He won’t give up.” Owen raised his glass from across the table. “When Donovan gets something in his head, it’s not easy to change his mind. I should know. It took months for me to convince him to believe I’m a capable manager.”
“I could still change my mind,” Donovan joked, but there was no tension in his voice, and Julia saw the look that passed between the brothers. It was one of appreciation and newfound acceptance.
This was the family she was joining, the family she was part of. A family that loved, that was open to change and always supportive.
She thought about the kitchen that was just waiting for her to come back and the family she’d found both in and out of the restaurant that wanted her to say yes. And when the guilt crept up, she beat it back. Maybe it had been a mistake to leave. Maybe it hadn’t. But what mattered now was how she moved forward. Was she going to stay stuck in the past, wallowing in old decisions, or lift her chin and step into the future? She thought about her mom, how proud she’d be to know that Julia wasn’t just running the kitchen, but owned a stake in it. S
o what was she holding back for?
“Yes.”
She could return to her condition later. This was a conversation that didn’t need to be had here and now. It probably wouldn’t have been heard over all the celebrating and glass clinking and smothering hugs anyway.
Julia waited until they were in Donovan’s bed, warm and sated from food and sex, to bring it up. She rolled onto her side to face him and put a hand on his chest. “Donovan?”
“Yes?” He opened his eyes and looked at her, trapped her hand against his chest. She could feel the steady thump of his heart.
“About the restaurant.”
He yawned. “You already said you’d take ownership. You can’t take it back now. We have a verbal contract.”
She laughed. “I’m not taking it back, but I want to do something for you.” She pressed a kiss to his lips—her fiancé’s lips—and felt a shiver of pleasure. Reminded herself to stay on track.
He opened his eyes and looked at her. “You’ve done plenty. Remember, I’m not sixteen anymore.”
“Do you ever think about anything else?”
“You’re naked in my bed. So, no.”
“Seriously, Donovan? I’m trying to have a meaningful conversation here.”
“Then quit rubbing up against me.” But he held her in place when she started to move away. “No, I take that back. You’re perfect right where you are.”
She settled against him, since she liked exactly where she was, too. “Tell me about the pub.”
“The wine bars are fine. Better than fine, actually. Owen’s made some inspired changes.”
“Not the bars.” Though she’d love to take the opportunity to talk up Owen, this wasn’t the time. “The upscale gastropub. Are you still moving forward with it?”
He looked surprised. “Yes, but what does that have to do with the restaurant?”
“I told you that I wasn’t going to just accept the shares. I meant that. I’m going to earn them. I want you to cut my salary, and whatever you’d sell the shares at, and put that money toward your gastropub.” It was only fair. He’d given her everything she wanted, so she would do what she could to assist him.
Tempting Donovan Ford Page 25