Before I Knew (The Cabots #1)

by Jamie Beck

  “Beautiful. Now we just need Alec to work his magic.” Hunter grinned for the first time since her arrival, delighted to hire his lifelong friend.

  “I know how much you want that, but I’m concerned.” Colby lowered her voice in case Alec was in the kitchen.

  “Why? We’re lucky to get a chef of his caliber.” Hunter crossed his arms. “Besides, he needs this second chance.”

  As if she needed that reminder.

  Alec’s former restaurant, Une Bouchée, had won the elite James Beard Award for Best New Restaurant. That coup had happened just before Joe’s death. The following year, Alec lost his mojo and, within months thereafter, his restaurant.

  The veiled accusation Mark had hurled at Alec at Joe’s funeral sifted through her thoughts, making her question—not for the first time—whether it had exacerbated Alec’s downward spiral. Then again, having lived with secrets and regrets of her own, she could hardly criticize his.

  “Is he ready, though?”

  After losing his life’s work, Alec had gone off the grid, returning home only two months ago. Colby wanted to help him, but the part of her that Mark’s illness had wrung dry now cowered from the idea of working with another broken spirit. Especially one whose presence forced her to think about everything she wanted to forget.

  “If your chef hadn’t bailed last minute, I wouldn’t push. But why go through another round of interviews when we don’t need to?” Hunter glanced at his watch. “Not long ago, Alec was arguably one of the best chefs in the country. He’s worked in some of France’s finest restaurants. No one’s better qualified than him.”

  “Except I’m not chasing awards and acclaim. I don’t want this place to be stuffy. I want it to be a casually elegant place for people to relax and have fun. To celebrate, not judge. Can Alec put his ego aside and take orders from me?”

  “What you should want is a customer wait list and big profit margin. This little place is yours to manage, but you can learn a lot from Alec.” He impishly pushed her shoulder with two fingers. “Maybe it’s you who needs to check your ego.”

  Colby bristled. “I know ‘this little place’ is nothing compared with the empire you all run up the road, but it’s everything to me. I’m not stupid. Alec has experience that I don’t, but that doesn’t mean we can work well together.”

  “Sorry I offended you.” Hunter tipped his head, his gaze softening.

  During the past two years, he’d voiced concern about the circles under her eyes, earned from months of nightmares. He’d noted the way she’d no longer watch gory movies, go out on any balcony, or keep in touch with Mark’s remaining family. How, for the most part, her sense of humor had withered. Like everyone else, Hunter had attributed the changes to her witnessing Mark’s suicide—the very worst day of her life, yet only a part of what haunted her.

  Given Hunter’s ignorance of the diagnosis Mark had insisted remain carefully hidden throughout their marriage, she couldn’t complain about how Alec’s presence ripped the lid off a past she’d been working so hard to bury.

  “Don’t overthink this,” Hunter continued. “Alec wouldn’t have accepted the offer if he couldn’t work with you. You two always got along well before. This is the perfect solution.”

  “‘Before’ being the operative word. I’m not sure this is the best solution for either of us now.” She hadn’t seen Alec in more than a year and wondered if he, like his parents, still blamed her for bringing Mark into their lives. Would he treat her coolly, or was he so in need of this job that he’d bend over backward to put her at ease? Either way would be awkward unless they could rebuild their former friendship.

  “Well, suck it up, buttercup, because this is what Dad and I want.” He patted her shoulder. She’d hated that dumb saying since they were kids, but, in a weird way, Hunter’s consistency reinforced the familial link that gave her life an anchor.

  “I think I’m going to hate answering to you.” She wrinkled her nose.

  “I know you will.” He grinned. “You want to get rid of me? Buy out CTC. Alec can expedite that.”

  Hunter had kept her safe at high school parties, taken swipes at Jenna whenever she’d made Colby feel less of a daughter to their dad than their half sister, Gentry, and supported her idea for A CertainTea. Remembering those things made his bossiness easier to tolerate.

  For a moment, her muscles unwound. Then Alec walked in.

  The restive energy pulsing off his body magnified his presence, making him appear ten feet tall instead of six. Maturity had continued to transform the nerdy teen in skinny jeans into even more of a stunner than when she’d last seen him. Rather disconcerting, actually. She needed another awkward thing between them like she needed a bad hair day.

  “Hunter.” Alec shook his hand, then clumsily hugged Colby hello. Little more than two years ago that would’ve been natural—smoothly done and barely noticed. Today, her body flushed with discomfort. “Thank you both for this opportunity.”

  To the casual bystander, Alec’s clasped hands and slight smile might’ve looked sincere instead of tightly wound. Of course, life with Mark had skewed Colby’s senses. Years of living defensively—scanning for the warning signs of mania, as if seeing it coming might somehow prevent its pandemonium—had made her a slightly paranoid observer.

  She could hardly trust her judgment about anyone anymore, even an old friend like Alec. Perhaps Hunter was right and Alec didn’t harbor hard feelings.

  “Don’t mention it. We’re lucky to have you,” Hunter assured his buddy. “Listen, I’ve got another meeting, so I’ll leave Colby here to show you the kitchen. You two probably have a lot to discuss before we open.”

  “Four weeks, correct?” Alec’s intense gaze startled her.

  “Yes,” Colby replied.

  “No time to waste.” He appeared to have stifled a skeptical sigh. Or maybe that was her paranoia again.

  “Agreed.” Hunter shook Alec’s hand, then kissed Colby’s head. “See you later.”

  She and Alec stood in the entry, watching Hunter leave as if he were a life raft wrenched from their hands.

  Her brother’s absence let the elephant otherwise known as Joe stampede into the room. He’d always be there between them, as would Mark. But given today’s anniversary in particular, Joe loomed large. Should she say something? No. Better to say nothing than risk saying the wrong thing.

  “Guess you’re eager to see the kitchen?” Colby smiled, determined to tiptoe across the eggshells.

  “Sure. Let’s start there.” As he followed her through the dining room, he asked, “Who planned it?”

  “The architect.” She halted, curious as to why this would matter.

  He stopped short of walking into her. “Not the chef?”

  “No. But the architect had designed other restaurants, so he knew what he was doing.” She flashed a reassuring smile, although the quirk of tension in his face told her he doubted it. Great. Reclaiming her peace of mind when forced to work with—and rely on—another demanding personality would be challenging.

  “We’ll soon find out.” Alec shoved his hands in his pants pockets. For an instant he resembled the old friend who’d done that quite frequently. The one she’d liked and trusted so well.

  “Hopefully it meets your needs.” Pushing open the door to reveal a gleaming, stainless-steel kitchen, Colby risked a glance at Alec, in time to note the first sign of his approval. To her eyes, the place looked as sterile and unwelcoming as an operating room. But Alec’s expression matched that of a father who’d just caught his first glimpse of his newborn.

  She watched him disappear into another world, one in which she ceased to exist. Lovingly, he ran his hand along a prep counter. He knelt down to inspect the various bowls, bins, and other utensils before standing and handling a sauté pan. Utterly rapt.

  Having never quite found her life’s true passion, Colby envied his. To her, A CertainTea offered a new beginning, but it didn’t stir her soul.

  Alec mil
led around the kitchen, occasionally stopping to turn one way or another, as if envisioning people working there, checking on the functionality of the space. With each step, his posture relaxed. The lines between his brows faded, and he let out a satisfied sigh, like that of a man who’d come home after a long journey.

  His transformation unlocked a piece of her guarded heart. She almost said something, but then he wandered into the walk-in refrigerator and the moment was lost.

  Maybe her qualms about working with a living, breathing reminder of the past had overshadowed the merits of her brother’s decision. Reconnecting with Alec might not only be the best thing for the restaurant, it might also help restore a friendship. Given the way she’d retreated from the world in recent years, she could use a friend.

  Alec stepped out of the refrigerator, smiling. Not the old smile she remembered—that slightly shy but sincere one. This smile, more of a grin, really, at least was genuine. The first genuinely happy expression she’d seen him wear in two years.

  Of course, that thought reminded her of the date. Of the death. Of that damn elephant she didn’t know how to tame.

  “It’s a five-star kitchen, Colby.”

  Validation from an award-winning chef. Not bad for a first try. She grinned. “Thank you. Have we missed anything?”

  “Nothing material. I might’ve planned a slightly different layout for the lines, but this should work fine. I’ll do an inventory with the kitchen staff on my own. No need to waste your time with that.” His hands found their way back into his pockets, which made her grin expand. “What?”

  “Nothing.” God, it felt good to relax a little. To feel, even temporarily, like they were the friends they’d been before the tragedies. So what if he was pretending for the sake of keeping this job? The old “fake it till you make it” concept worked for her.

  “Oh, it’s something.” He shrugged. “Sure you won’t share? You used to tell me lots of things.”

  “That I did.” Of course, that was before.

  After high school, Alec had taken off for the Culinary Institute of America in New York, and from there, to Europe. By the time he’d returned to Oregon, she’d married Mark and embarked on a new legal career. She’d learned to keep secrets by that point.

  Mark had demanded his diagnosis remain private so that people didn’t whisper and wonder. Only Colby’s mother had had any inkling of the truth. Amid Colby’s swirling thoughts, she led Alec back to the dining hall. The next thing she knew, she’d tripped and landed splayed across the floor.

  “Are you hurt?” Alec knelt beside her, one hand hovering above her shoulder, concern in his eyes.

  Pushing up to a sitting position, she tucked her hair behind her ear and glanced at him from beneath her lashes. “Only my pride.”

  He didn’t move except for the quirk of his lips.

  “Laughing at me?” Colby asked, heat flooding her cheeks.

  “No.” He lost the battle against smiling. “But it’s nice to be the graceful one for a change.”

  He’d always been a bit self-deprecating, and she had always been the more athletic one.

  Suddenly the chaotic emotions of her morning converged, forcing an exhausted snicker. Quiet at first, until she broke into a full-blown fit of giggles. The more she tried stifling them, the worse they got. Partway through her outburst, Alec chuckled, too, and a hint of warmth crept into his eyes—his lovely, kind eyes.

  Once her laughter died down, Alec motioned for her hand. “Up you go.”

  When she placed her hand in his, he grasped it firmly and tugged her upright. They held hands in silence as if unwilling to let go of the brief moment of levity, which rose above the clouds like a kite.

  When she eased free from his grip, Alec widened his stance and crossed his arms, resuming their business discussion. “Did the former chef hire the staff?”

  This she remembered about him—efficient, driven, guided by logic. He hadn’t often been one to goof off. Not like her and Joe. Of course, the last time she’d goofed off was probably three or four years ago—a pathetic admission.

  “For the most part. When would you like to start working with them?” Colby fidgeted under his scrutiny. That chestnut cowlick flopped over his forehead in a way that made her want to reach up to touch it. That inappropriate urge skittered through her body until it hit her stomach and fluttered.

  “Immediately. We’ve a lot to accomplish.” Alec glanced around the dining hall again, his eyes focused. She could tell he was picturing the place in action. “Did you plan a soft opening the week before we open to the public? Invite your family? Some friends and colleagues?”

  “Yes.” She and the former chef had planned one. “It seemed like a good idea.”

  He grinned at her as if she were a child just learning to read. “Trust me, it’s necessary. I assume you’ve hired a qualified waitstaff?”

  “Of course.”

  Alec’s perfectionism could be an excellent, if sometimes annoying, trait. Yet the emphasis he’d placed on the word “qualified” sent up a red flag. He doubted her. Would he try to exploit her inexperience?

  Hunter’s focus on the bottom line ensured that he’d pressure Colby to compromise with Alec, whose culinary background influenced his tastes. Tastes that, unlike hers, could run toward the pretentious. She’d have to be vigilant to protect her vision and authority. “Mondays and Tuesdays are normally days off, but I’ll have everyone come first thing tomorrow morning to meet you.”

  “We should discuss the menu first. Can we do that now?”

  “Actually, I promised my mother I’d swing by at ten to discuss ‘something urgent.’” An inward sigh filled her chest at the dubiousness of her mother’s request.

  “Afterward?” he asked.

  “Sure. I’ll text when I’m ready.”

  He pulled his phone from his pants pocket and grimaced. “Low batts.”

  “This early in the morning?” She shook her head, amazed. “Gaming addiction?”

  “No.” He returned the phone to his pocket. “I usually forget to charge it. Honestly, half the time I forget to take it with me. Not many people are tracking me down, anyway.”

  In fairness, she didn’t get many texts, either. People tend to stop reaching out when you continually withdraw from them, which she did during her marriage in order to hide Mark’s illness. Since his death, just getting through the workday had drained her energy, so socializing had been infrequent.

  “I can wait. If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay here and familiarize myself further with the facility and grounds.” He glanced toward the lake.

  “Of course I don’t mind, Alec.” It was the first time she’d said his name, which rolled softly off her tongue. He turned sharply toward her and stared, making her light-headed. When their gazes finally broke apart, she dropped hers to the floor, hoping staring at her feet might reset her balance. What just happened? Clearing her throat, she said, “I’ll be back in forty-five minutes.”

  He nodded, watching her with an expression she’d almost describe as penitent. “I’ll be waiting.”

  The moment called for something—a handshake, a quick hug—yet she faltered, doing neither.

  As she turned to go, he touched her arm. “Colby, I promise to do everything I can to make this place thrive.”

  She looked at his hand, which lingered on her forearm, and felt her doubts subsiding. This was Alec, after all. Joe’s death had opened a distance between them, but deep down he might still be the quiet guy who’d used her as a guinea pig in his earliest days of experimenting in the kitchen. The one who’d endured her and Joe’s childhood antics without much complaint, unlike her own brother.

  The look in his eyes persuaded her that they could bridge the gap between the past and present with a little effort. “I’m sure you will.”

  Alec waited until Colby strolled out the door before exhaling. God, that had been difficult! His feelings for her had always been complicated, even before his mistakes with J
oe and Mark.

  She’d been an open, enthusiastic kid—a bit of a tomboy, her light-brown ponytail bouncing behind her. Dirt-stained clothes had hung from her thin frame as she dangled from trees. She and Joe had followed Hunter and him everywhere, begging to join them in the tree house, or wherever else they’d bike off to.

  His favorite trait, though, had been her big heart. He recalled when she’d been about ten and had cried after overhearing their mothers discussing Mrs. Cannon’s breast cancer. Megan Cannon had only been thirty-six and had two young sons at the time. After drying her tears, Colby had asked for Alec’s help to create a unique pink lemonade she could sell on the street to raise money for the Cannons. The negligible income she’d earned paled in comparison with the awareness and goodwill she’d inspired. Other neighbors then sent the family food and cards during Megan’s chemotherapy, and everyone rejoiced when she survived. To this day, pink lemonade reminded him of her.

  Then puberty hit. Granted, it hit most girls earlier than Colby, which had caused her endless angst. Having viewed him like another brother, she’d griped to him about her boyish figure, mostly when she’d sat in his mom’s kitchen watching him cook.

  Of course, he’d never viewed her as a sister. Barely three years older than she was, he’d battled his growing attraction. Her ready smile and straight white teeth, the intelligence in her cat-shaped hazel eyes, and even the long, lithe line of the body she’d wished were more curvaceous had appealed to him. Not that she knew it.

  He’d buried his affection behind the bright line of friendship. Well, except for that one rainy afternoon. That surprising stolen moment when, seeking escape from his father, he’d gone to the tree house to read and found her there crying.

  “What’s wrong?” Alec set his book on a milk crate before collapsing beside her onto the musty, quilt-covered mattress on the floor.

  An intense surge of delight gripped him thanks to the rare opportunity to spend time alone with her. Raindrops tapped against the roof, awakening the earthy scent of the Oregon forest around them. They sat, shrouded amid the mismatched garage-sale tapestries he and Hunter had hung on the walls. It would almost be romantic if not for her tears.