“I don’t care about the money, Deirdra, and I like working. And so do you.”
Deirdra threw her hands up. “You think I care only about the money? I don’t give a shit about the money. You spent years cleaning up after and taking care of Mom, and you have worked your ass off to make something of yourself. I’m so fucking proud of you, Abby. I don’t want you to get started and realize it was a mistake. I don’t want you to get hurt or go broke because you have this fantasy about bringing back what can’t ever be brought back. The magic in that restaurant was Dad. Don’t you get that? And he’s gone, Abby. He’s been gone for nineteen years, and he’s never coming back.”
“I know that. I miss him every day.” Abby swiped at the tears running down her cheeks, vaguely aware of Cait standing beside them, like she would jump between them if things went too far. “I want to run the Bistro because I love it with all of my heart and soul. You might hate this place, but I don’t. I remember Mom and Dad happily running the Bistro, and I know I can bring it back to what it was. This isn’t me being impetuous, Deirdra. This is me feeling like I’ve finally found my destiny.”
“We are so different,” Deirdra said. “You think you can make lemonade from lemons, but I’m an attorney. I see what happens with lemonade every damn day. It goes bad and grows mold just like the lemons. I can’t fight like this tonight. I still have hours of work to do. I’m going upstairs.”
Deirdra stalked out of the kitchen, and Abby flopped into a chair, wiping her tears. “Sorry, Cait. Welcome to the ugly side of sisterhood.”
Cait sat beside her. “Don’t be sorry. You two just showed me exactly what makes each of you special. I like yours and Deirdra’s quirks.”
Abby dried her eyes. “Then maybe you’re as crazy as we are.”
“Oh, I definitely am. We all are in some ways.”
“And by the way, what kind of awful sister am I? I should be asking you if you want us to take the offer.”
“I grew up with money and I know it can’t buy happiness,” Cait said. “I’d like to get to know our mom through the restaurant and through you and Deirdra. I know Deirdra won’t be a fan of mine for saying this, but I’m glad you want to keep it.”
“Thank you.”
“Deirdra made good points, though, and boy, you’re lucky. She obviously loves you so much she’s terrified of you getting hurt, because it’ll hurt her, too.”
More tears slid down Abby’s cheeks. “I know,” she said, her voice cracking. “But I need to follow my heart.”
“That’s all Deirdra was doing, too,” Cait said carefully. “You said you thought Ava loved so hard she lost a piece of herself every time she lost someone she loved. I think Deirdra does, too, but she protects herself by being stronger than everyone else. I think she feels guilty about leaving when you stayed to help Ava, and every time she’s here, it’s a reminder of that as much as it’s a reminder of how Ava let her down. I think that’s why Deirdra runs away. And maybe that’s why she’s still trying to protect you, because she couldn’t back then. I could be wrong, but that’s my take on her.”
That brought more tears. “I don’t want her to worry about me.”
“Well, that’s never going to happen,” Deirdra said as she walked back into the kitchen with a sorrowful expression. “There were a few kernels of truth to what you said, Cait. But, Abby, I also want to protect you because you’re a dreamer, and you have a gigantic—sometimes foolish—heart that refuses to believe life will shit on you time and time again. I know you believe you don’t allow yourself to have expectations, but believe me, you can’t help but have them. It’s who you are. You believe and trust even when you think you’re not. And that’s good, Abby. Lord knows I’m fucked up in that department.”
“You’re not fucked up,” Abby said, wiping her tears.
“I am, but I’m not going to let that mess you up anymore. You’ve had enough of your dreams stolen out from under you. We both have. I’m sorry for going off like I did. I don’t want to steal your dreams. I love you, Abby.” Tears spilled from Deirdra’s eyes, drawing more tears from Abby. “I’m sorry I feel differently than you do about this place, but that’s my shit, not yours. You can have my inheritance to use toward the restaurant, and I support you one hundred percent. If your lemonade gets moldy, we’ll clean up Mom’s old garden and grow more freaking lemons.”
Abby pushed to her feet, tears streaming down her cheeks, and threw her arms around Deirdra. “Thank you! Thank you so much! I’ll call the attorney in the morning and let him know we’re turning down the offer. I love you, Dee.”
“I love you, too, you starry-eyed pain in my butt.” Deirdra wiped her eyes.
“Cait? Are you one hundred percent sure about turning down the offer?”
“Two hundred percent,” Cait said.
“Thank you. I won’t let you down.” Abby pulled her to her feet and hugged her. “I’m so glad you didn’t run away from our craziness.”
“Speak for yourself,” Deirdra said. “I’m not crazy.”
Cait arched a brow and said, “What was that, little sister?”
“So this is what it feels like to be outnumbered,” Deirdra said.
Abby put an arm around each of them and said, “No, this is what it feels like to be a family in the making.”
CHAPTER SIX
“LOOK AT YOU, wearing a T-shirt and sneakers!”
Aiden’s heart took off like a freaking jackrabbit at the sound of Abby’s voice across the Bistro parking lot Friday morning, where he’d been pacing, anxiously waiting for her. He spun around just as she put down her bike’s kickstand. She looked gorgeous, with her hair all windblown, wearing skimpy gray shorts and a black sweatshirt.
“You’ve even got the whole backward-baseball-cap thing going on,” she said playfully as he closed the distance between them. “Now you’re starting to look like a regular guy on vacation. Well, you would if regular guys looked like underwear models.”
“I came dressed to work,” he said, earning one of her magnificent grins. He reached for her hand and said, “Get over here, Abigail Best Lips on the Planet de Messiéres.”
He drew her into his arms and took the kiss he’d been craving since last night. She wound her arms around his neck, pressing her soft curves against him, allowing him to savor and linger. When their lips parted, he kept her close and said, “How are you, beautiful?”
“Better now,” she said breathlessly.
She’d snagged his hat and put it on her head, looking adorably sexy, which seemed to be her constant state. They walked around the Bistro hand in hand to their table, where breakfast from Keira’s awaited. He’d arranged their chairs closer together, rather than across from each other, which allowed him to touch her hand or lean in for a kiss as they talked. He’d never needed to be near anyone. He liked his primarily solitary life, but he was drawn to Abby like a moth to a flame as she chatted excitedly about how things had gone with her sisters and how thrilled she was to have their support.
“I emailed the attorney this morning and turned down the offer on the Bistro. I swear it felt like a gorilla climbed off my back.”
As worried as Businessman Aiden was about Abby having the financial means to take on the restaurant, Island Aiden was pleased that she would have the chance to follow her dreams. “Good. I think you did the right thing.”
He leaned in for a kiss as a sharply dressed, attractive brunette came around the corner of the building, and Abby jumped to her feet. “Deirdra. What are you doing here?”
Ah, the older sister.
“I came to say goodbye and to check out the guy who’s treating my sister to fancy breakfasts.” Deirdra extended her hand and ran an assessing eye over Aiden as he rose to his feet. “Hi. I’m Deirdra, Abby’s sister.”
“Aiden,” he said, shaking her hand and doing his own three-second assessment. Navy skirt, white silk blouse, expensive heels, pin-straight posture, chin up. The lawyer in her was rearing its powerful head, le
tting him know she was there on a mission. “It’s nice to meet you, and I’m sorry to hear about your mother’s passing.”
“Thank you,” she said.
Abby hiked a thumb toward the door and said, “If you guys will excuse me for a sec, I’m going to run inside and use the bathroom.”
As Abby headed inside, Aiden waved to her chair and said, “Would you like to sit down?”
Deirdra sat down and crossed her legs, her eyes locked on Aiden as she said, “Since Abby’s going to be gone only a minute, I’ll make this quick. I don’t know what your deal is, but if you have your eye on Abby because you think she’s a sugar mama due to her inheritance, you’re barking up the wrong tree.” She broke off a piece of Abby’s muffin and popped it into her mouth, as if to say Take that.
He liked knowing she had Abby’s back, and he respected the hell out of her for taking a stance, even if she was way off base. “I admire your candor and your gumption, but I assure you, Deirdra, my interest in Abby is nothing but honorable.”
Deirdra half laughed, half scoffed. “We both know that’s not true. She’s a gorgeous woman, and I saw the sparks flying between you two.”
“I said honorable, not saintly.”
She seemed amused by that and broke off another piece of muffin, accentuating her words with it as she said, “Listen, Abby’s got a heart of gold, which is worth more than all the money in the world. So keep that in mind, because people have been known to kill for less.”
“You don’t mince words, do you?”
She smiled and said, “Not usually.”
“I don’t, either. You should know that I’m not the kind of guy that goes out looking for flings, and I’m not into drama. I like Abby a lot. I’m as drawn to her positivity, warmth, and intelligence as I am to her outward appearance, but I have a younger sister, so I completely understand where you’re coming from. I’m not out to hurt Abby, or anyone for that matter. I’m here for three more weeks, and hopefully Abby and I will enjoy that time together.”
Abby came out the front door, her bright eyes landing on him. How could anyone hurt such a sweet, beautiful woman? He pushed to his feet and said, “You can have my seat, Abs.”
“That’s okay, Aiden. I have to go, or I’ll miss the ferry.” Deirdra hugged Abby, whispering something Aiden couldn’t hear. When she turned to say goodbye to him, her expression was warmer, her tone kinder. “Nice chatting with you. Enjoy the rest of your vacation.”
“Thank you. I hope we’ll see each other again.”
Deirdra raised a brow, her eyes shifting to Abby as she said, “We’ll see.”
She turned to leave, and after she was out of earshot, Abby said, “Sorry I had to leave you two alone. My coffee went right through me. Did Deirdra grill you? If she did, I’m sorry. She can be blunt.”
“She was great,” he reassured her, and he meant it. “I’m glad she’s looking out for you.”
“Does that mean she didn’t scare you off?”
Scare him off? That was laughable. He was so taken with her, when Remi had texted last night to see if he’d made any progress on his list, he’d wanted to share his happiness with the sister who had sent him to the island. He’d sent Remi a few of the pictures they’d taken with the caption Made a new friend. Flew a kite and ate a sundae. See? I’m doing your list. Love you. He’d been forced to endure a mini inquisition, and while he hadn’t responded to most of her questions, he’d given her a little something to chew on—Her name is Abby, and we met when she was out for a run. I’m having breakfast with her tomorrow morning. He’d never talked to Remi about any of the women he went out with, and the fact that he wanted to tell her about Abby was not lost on him.
“Let’s put it this way: I was so anxious to see you today, I was up at dawn, read the newspaper twice, and was still so pumped with adrenaline, I went for a quick jog on the beach.” He pressed his lips to hers and said, “It’s going to take a lot more than a protective sister to keep me away from you.”
Later that afternoon, Aiden stood on the makeshift scaffolding he and Abby had made using ladders and wide planks of wood, wiping cobwebs from the rafters of the Bistro and watching Abby wiggle her hips to the music playing on her father’s boom box. She and Cait were removing wallpaper across the room. They’d been cleaning all day, and neither of them had complained even once. He liked getting to know Cait as Abby was. She was interesting and careful, what he called a watcher, someone who observed for a while before letting her guard down.
Abby glanced over her shoulder with an expression that was tentative and somehow also full of hope and desire. He had no idea how she could pull all of that off with a single glance, but that hope reminded him of something he’d read and wanted to share with her.
“Hey, Abs, I forgot to tell you that I read about the Best of the Island Restaurant Competition in the Island Times this morning. Have you thought about entering?”
“No, but have I told you that I like that you read the newspaper, even though it’s as outdated as Myspace?”
“Are you saying I’m old?”
She and Cait laughed.
“No,” Abby said. “My father used to scour the newspaper every morning and get his fingers all inky.”
“Don’t knock the ink,” he said. “It’s a relaxing way to start the day.”
“By the time you leave the island, you’ll have a whole new concept of relaxation.”
“I bet you both will.” Cait tossed a piece of wallpaper onto the pile at their feet.
Aiden chuckled.
“Deirdra has definitely rubbed off on you,” Abby said to Cait as she peeled off another strip of wallpaper.
“What do you think about the competition, Abs?” Aiden asked.
“It costs a small fortune to enter, and it’s only four weeks away. I’ll never be ready in time.” The competition was held the week before Memorial Day, and the winner would be announced Thursday morning, before the crowds arrived for the holiday weekend.
The entry fee was only seven hundred dollars, which told him something about Abby’s finances, spurring questions about how she was going to afford the start-up costs to launch the restaurant. If her finances were that tight, she could definitely use the advertising that came with the grand prize.
“The restaurant only has to be aesthetically pleasing when the judges come through. You don’t have to be open to the public or even fully staffed to enter,” he said, parroting what he’d read. “It’s basically a tasting competition judged by four food critics out of Boston and New York.”
“I don’t know. There are so many things to consider, like how all of this hard work is going to turn out and whether the community will embrace a reopening, or if our mom ruined that for us.” Confidence rose in Abby’s eyes, and she said, “Don’t get me wrong. I hope people love the restaurant and my cooking, and I’m determined not to fail. But what if I’m wrong and I can’t rekindle my father’s magic? What if the magic of the restaurant died with him?”
“Trust me, Abby,” he said. “You have your own brand of magic. I didn’t know your father, but I can’t imagine anyone lighting up a room the way you do.”
Cait looked curiously at him, and Abby looked a little dreamy-eyed, but he was only being honest. He’d seen businesses made or broken by attitudes. If Abby’s cooking was half as good as her personality, she had a winner on her hands.
“I mean it, Abs. You don’t have to be your father. Be yourself.”
“I appreciate that, and I feel like I”—she looked at Cait—“we can really do this. But I think I need to give it a year before I try to win a competition, especially the biggest one on the island. I’m still kind of in the Holy cow, I’m really doing this stage.”
Abby was too passionate about the restaurant to half-ass it. There was no way she’d make it anything less than the best it could be. He needed her to see that this could be the opportunity she needed to put the Bistro on the map, but Remi’s voice trampled through his mind—Just
be Aiden . . . not Aiden the investor and billionaire—reminding him to take off his business hat and be a regular guy. He sucked at being a regular guy. How was he supposed to turn off instincts that were as innate as breathing? Instincts that could help Abby and keep her from making mistakes? She needed what winning the competition could offer.
Doing his best to put on his regular-guy hat, he said, “I thought you might be interested since, according to the article, the winner will be featured on the front page of the Island Times and in the Best of segment of the Cape Cod Times. The winner also gets six ad spots in the Island Times over the twelve months following the competition, and their logo and the Best of banner will be featured on the Silver Island website and the Times website. That’s a lot of free advertising.”
“I know, but as much as I believe in myself, paying a big entry fee and possibly not winning won’t do anything good for me. I’d be known as the restaurant that didn’t win the competition. My parents never bought into competitions or any of that type of thing. My father built this business on word of mouth. The Bistro doesn’t even have a logo,” Abby said as she pulled off another strip of wallpaper.
Aiden was trying not to push, but he believed in her and couldn’t bite his tongue without making one last effort to open her eyes to the realities of running a business in today’s marketplace. “Yes, but your father was running the restaurant when the island was much smaller and just starting to grow,” he said as he climbed down the ladder. “He got in on the ground floor of the biggest developmental years the island has ever seen, and the restaurant lost all of that traction when your mother was running it. You’re starting from a different jumping-off point. It’s a different world. You can’t rely on word of mouth the way he did.”
“He’s right,” Cait said, tossing another strip onto the pile. “Even in the tattoo industry, we need to have a presence everywhere—online, in bars, local businesses . . .”
Abby’s shoulders dropped with a heavy sigh. “I’ll add marketing to my to-do list. I don’t know much about it, but I can do some research and ask my friend Leni for help. She does marketing for her cousin’s PR firm.”
Maybe We Will (Silver Harbor) Page 10