A Dash of Christmas
Page 27
The kind of place he wanted to create.
Maybe Montauk wasn’t the right location for him. Did he really want to compete with places like this that were practically an institution in the town?
“Hey! What can I get you to drink?”
Carter looked up and smiled at the waitress—Karen—and ordered a Coke. With a smile and a nod, she was gone, and he was seriously contemplating scrapping this entire project because it suddenly didn’t feel right.
Honestly, it hadn’t felt right in a while—no matter what he kept trying to tell himself. It was probably why he hadn’t been able to come to any decisions on just about every aspect of it—the menu, the décor, none of it. If he forced himself to take a step back, Carter could finally see he had been forcing the whole thing all along.
But why?
Karen was back, putting his glass down on the table. “You picked a great day to come in,” she said. She was older, maybe late forties, early fifties, and looked tired though she was brightly cheerful. “Dad just made up an amazing batch of crab cakes. They’re the special today, and you can get them plated or on a brioche roll with a side order of fries and slaw. I can get that going for you, or do you need some time to look at the menu?”
The menu hadn’t changed much in the last ten years, if Carter remembered correctly, opting to have the special. Once Karen was gone again, he leaned back in the booth and sighed. If he didn’t open his new restaurant here, then what? What was he supposed to do? Construction was underway—he supposed he could simply let it get to a certain point and then put it up for sale. But again, then what? What was he supposed to do with his time? He was already spreading himself thin by traveling back and forth between his other places. He’d been looking forward to settling in to someplace new for a while.
Here.
His head lolled back and his eyes closed as the gravity of his situation hit.
His business plan was shot.
His relationship with his mother was shot.
And his relationship with Emery was shot.
Right now, he wished someone would shoot him and put him out of his misery.
That wish was sort of granted by the appearance of his food. Karen set the plate down and studied him. “You doing okay?”
“Not particularly,” he murmured, turning his attention to his lunch. It was so simple and there wasn’t a fancy presentation, but it still looked and smelled delicious. Carter glanced at her and gave her a small smile. “Thanks. This looks great.”
He figured it was the universal code for “go away,” but she didn’t move.
“You look familiar,” she said. “You’ve been here before, right? But you’re not a local.”
Nodding, he picked up a fry and ate it. It was so damn good and his immediate thought was how much Emery would love them too.
Before he could respond, her eyes widened. “Wait a minute—you’re that guy! You’re the one building the new place over on Soundview, right?”
Realizing now that maybe the locals weren’t going to be quite so impressed with the competition, Carter simply gave a curt nod and reached for his fork.
“Hang on,” Karen said before turning and heading back toward the kitchen.
For all he knew, some angry mob was going to come out and start yelling at him, so he quickly wolfed down a couple of bites of crab cake before anyone told him to leave. And damn if they weren’t the best he’d ever eaten. There was something to be said about getting your seafood right off the dock and making things fresh. Down in New Orleans he did, but none of his other places had the option. It made him long to be part of the community here even more—if for no other reason than to cook!
Out of the corner of his eye, Carter spotted Karen and an older gentleman walking his way. The resemblance between the two was strong—no doubt this was her father.
And this was their business.
Shit.
They came up to his table, and Karen made quick introductions. “I probably should have waited until you finished your lunch, but I wanted you to meet my father—Joe Mallin.” She smiled. “And you are?”
Carter quickly wiped his hands and mouth. “Carter Montgomery.” Standing, he shook Joe’s hand and then Karen’s. “Please. Join me.”
Joe slid into the booth opposite him, but Karen stayed standing. “I’ll keep an eye on the kitchen.”
After taking his seat again, Carter had to fight to sit still. He had no idea how this conversation was going to go or if it would be a friendly one.
Thankfully, Joe started speaking first. “I’ve been watching the progress on your place.” He paused. “Seems to be going a little slow.”
Carter agreed. “Between permits and weather, it’s been an uphill battle.”
“We’ve all been wondering what you were going to do with the place. Everyone in town’s been talking about it, but other than your name being attached to the project, no one knows what sort of place you’re planning.”
Unable to help himself, Carter let out a low laugh. “Neither do I,” he said honestly and in that moment he knew he’d won the old man over.
“Surely you have something in mind. You chose this location for a reason and from everything I know about you, I would think you’re going to open up a restaurant like your others.”
He shrugged. “I was hoping to do something different this time around, but…” He let his words die off and took another bite of his lunch. “This is fantastic, by the way. Best crab cakes I’ve ever eaten.”
Joe beamed with pride. “That’s a real compliment coming from you. This place? I’ve been here for close to forty years. Started out as a little crab shack and then extended a bit. My wife and I did it because we loved to cook and we loved to fish. I don’t fish anymore, not like I used to, but this place we built from the ground up. Neither of us had any formal training and our food is simple.”
“But delicious,” Carter added pleasantly. And since he figured the best way to speak was honestly, he said, “This is the kind of place I envisioned for myself this time around. Casual atmosphere, comfort foods, a place where everyone was welcome and could find something on the menu they’d enjoy.”
Joe’s face fell a little. “It’s always done well for me. I’m sure your place will do even better, because you’ll have your name and a big budget behind it.”
Carter knew what he was saying and it bothered him. “Believe it or not, I’m having second thoughts.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “Like I said, I can’t seem to commit to anything, and…I don’t know. I had my reasons for wanting to do something different this time around but nothing’s sitting right with me. I keep looking for a sign—some sort of aha moment where it all becomes clear—but so far it hasn’t.” He took another bite of his lunch and then a sip of his soda. “So what about you, Joe? How did you know this was the right place for you?”
The older man chuckled. “It was my wife’s idea,” he said with a sad smile. “It was her dream and I made it come true for her. She’s sick now and can’t come in anymore and I hate leaving her alone all day.” He sighed. “I always thought we’d retire together and leave the place to the kids, but…Karen doesn’t want it and my son’s a doctor down in Palm Beach.” He shuddered. “Believe me, he definitely doesn’t want the place.”
“So why not sell it?”
He shrugged. “This place has been a part of my life for so long.” He took a deep breath. “I hate the thought of it belonging to someone else. Someone who’s going to come in and change everything and wipe away all my years of hard work.”
Right now, Carter’s heart was racing with excitement as idea after idea after idea came to mind. “What if someone came in and sort of…refurbished a little? You know, gave the place just a small facelift?”
Joe laughed. “I think the place needs a little more than
that. But still, it would be nice if things didn’t change too much.”
“And what if someone came in and kept some of your recipes—some of your traditional meals—and then…added to the menu?”
Another laugh. “If you know someone willing to do that, you let me know! I can’t tell you how many offers I’ve had over the years where they wanted to throw money at me and then change everything they claimed to love about this place. Or worse, knock it down to the ground and rebuild completely.” He shrugged again. “I can’t do it. Maybe that makes me crazy, but…”
Carter sat there for a long moment thinking, eating another fry. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“What did your family think about you doing this? You know, opening this place? And I don’t mean your wife, I mean—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, my family. Like, my folks, right?”
“Yes.”
“My old man thought I was crazy,” Joe said with a grin. “He was a fisherman and that’s all he ever wanted to be. Cooking was for women, he used to say.” He laughed as if lost in a memory. “When Elizabeth and I said we were doing this, my father just about had a fit—yelled and carried on about how no son of his was going to wear an apron! Oh my goodness…I haven’t thought about that in years!”
Carter laughed with him. “Did he ever get over it?”
“Hell yeah! The first time he came in to eat, he was one hundred percent on board. For the first ten years we were in business, he was my main fisherman.” He grew serious. “He died out on his boat. I remember that day like it was yesterday.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. We were in a good place, me and him. Sure, he’d still tease me about being a cook, but he died doing what he loved and he knew I loved what I was doing too. And that’s all that mattered to him.” Then he studied Carter. “How does your family feel about what you do?”
“Honestly? They approve—well, my father didn’t, but…at least I thought he didn’t.”
Joe nodded. “Dads are always the toughest critics. Trust me, I know.” He smiled. “We’re also the worst at sharing our feelings. At least that’s what my wife and kids tell me.”
And then Carter couldn’t help it; he laughed. Then he felt like crying.
But more than anything, he finally knew what he wanted to do. It was all there in his head with such clarity that he knew it was the right thing to do.
“So, Joe, I think I’d like to talk a little more about this with you and make you an offer.”
Joe’s eyes went wide. “Are you serious? But…what about your place? The one you’re building?”
“I have no idea at the moment,” Carter replied with a nervous laugh. “All I know is it never felt right, but this? This conversation with you and the possibilities? That feels right.”
With a look that was a mixture of relief and delight, Joe reached out his hand to Carter. “I look forward to talking with you more, Carter Montgomery.”
Carter shook his hand. “Thank you, Joe Mallin.”
“Actually, it’s Joseph. But everyone calls me Joe.”
Carter’s hand froze midshake. What were the odds that he’d be doing business with a man who shared his father’s name?
There’s your sign.
And just like that, Carter knew he was making the right choice.
* * *
Emery opted to skip the little black dress and wear something festive and Christmassy by choosing a little red dress. Staring at her reflection and turning this way and that, she made sure it looked okay, wishing Carter was there to see her.
So he could eat his heart out.
Okay, that wasn’t completely true. She missed him, dang it! For almost four days she’d been at war with herself about whether she should just be the bigger person and take the first step. Unfortunately, old habits died hard and she couldn’t do it. He was wrong! So very wrong, and every time she thought about how little faith he seemed to have in her, she got angry all over again.
Still, she really wished he was here.
“Yeah, so I can prove him wrong,” she murmured and realized this wasn’t getting her anywhere. Tonight after the party, she was calling him. It didn’t matter how late it was or what happened, she was making the damn call.
And she was going to tell him how she was the more mature of the two of them.
Sooo…rubber? Meet glue.
Leaning in closer, she checked her makeup and then stepped back to take in her whole self again. Hair? Check. Makeup? Check. Dress and shoes? Check and check. Glancing over at the clock, she saw it was time to go. Eliza would be here any minute to pick her up and she didn’t want to keep her waiting.
When Eliza had reached out to ask about driving together, Emery had pretty much broken down about her argument with Carter. Maybe it wasn’t right to talk about such things with his mother, but right now she didn’t have a whole lot of friends around to cry on their shoulders.
“Should probably start getting back into the swing of things on that end too,” she said, grabbing her coat and purse off her bed and walking out into the living room.
And sighing.
Looking around, Emery hated everything she saw. Hated her furniture, hated the space, and most of all, she hated being here alone. Granted, that last one wasn’t by choice, but she still hated it. Every place she looked, she saw Carter. How he had managed to make such an impression on her home in such a short time she had no idea. Right now, she’d kill to have it all wiped clean—the furniture, the pictures, the windows, the walls…all of it, if it meant she had some peace of mind.
If she didn’t see him everywhere.
Or hear him.
On some level, Carter was right. There was a definite possibility of her parents and Derek ruining the night for her. She knew it. Actually, she was fairly confident they were going to. What had angered her the most about the entire situation was how he’d kept harping about it. It wasn’t like he was bringing anything new to the table, for crying out loud. And if he knew her as well as he claimed, then he should have known all his snarky comments and worst-case scenarios were making her more tense and uncomfortable.
In a perfect world, she would love to let Carter loose on the bunch of them. The thought of him putting her parents in their place and then maybe beating the crap out of Derek was like a secret fantasy! But Emery was a realist and she knew that letting Carter defend her—no matter how satisfying—wasn’t going to solve her problems. She didn’t need him to save her because she was capable of saving herself.
That’s why tonight was so important—not only because she finally felt strong enough to face her biggest fears, but because she wanted the man she loved by her side to be there to hold her tight and celebrate with her when she did.
When was she going to learn that some dreams just didn’t come true and happily ever afters only existed in romance novels and fairy tales?
“And if there’s one thing for certain about my life, it’s no fairy tale.” The doorbell rang and for a second her heart skipped a beat because she thought it might be Carter. Pulling the door open, she smiled at his mother and tried not to let her disappointment show.
“Oh, Emery, you look absolutely lovely! Red is a good color on you!”
“Thanks, Eliza. I wanted to be festive.” Slipping her coat on, she grabbed her phone, keys, and purse, and walked out the door.
The drive took less than fifteen minutes and during that time, they talked only about the party and all the work they’d put in. Emery was relieved. The last thing she wanted was to have an awkward conversation about Carter, but she sort of felt like it was the elephant in the room.
Or rather, the car.
When they arrived at the country club, the whole place was heavily decorated for Christmas, and Emery couldn’t help but smile. The twinkly lights, the garlan
ds, the music playing…it was like walking into a wonderland, and all she could do was think of the wonderland she had created back in Montauk for Carter. The sigh escaped before she could stop it.
“Are you okay?” Eliza asked, concern written all over her face. “I love that you’re here, Emery, but I know it’s at a price. If you want to leave at any time, I don’t want you to worry, okay?”
Tears stung her eyes because this was a woman who exemplified being a loving mother. Before she could stop herself, she hugged Eliza. “Thank you.”
Eliza hugged her back with a soft laugh. “For what, sweetheart?”
“For just being you.” Pulling back, Emery wiped her eyes. “It’s too early for me to have my makeup ruined, right?” When she stepped away, Eliza put out a hand to stop her.
“I can’t imagine how hard this is for you—to be here tonight and know you’re going to face the people who hurt you.” She gave her a sympathetic smile. “But I want you to know how proud I am of you for standing your ground and not letting them scare you off. You’re far braver than I ever could be, and I’m a little in awe of you.”
“Of me?”
Nodding, Eliza explained. “I’m sure Carter shared with you how my husband was…well, he was a bit of a bully. I rarely stood up to him and I used to get upset with the kids when they tried to. Maybe if I had—or if I had let them—things would be different now. Not that it would have saved Joseph’s life, but maybe Carter, Megan, and Christian would have better memories of him.” She paused. “I know this is going to be hard for you. If it comes to what we all think it will, then I know it won’t be easy to confront them—but maybe this confrontation will pave the way to a better relationship. At least with your parents.”
A trembly smile played at Emery’s lips. “Thank you for saying that, Eliza. I’m not holding out much hope for a new relationship with my parents, but I need to know I stood up for myself and held my head high. No one is going to take that away from me. Never again.”