quite a jam-packed day. But tell me, is Lachlan McKinnel as good-looking in person as he is in his photos?”
Eliza frowned. “How do you know what he looks like?” Although he’d appeared on a local TV show cooking segment, until she’d seen the advertisement for the job and searched online, she’d never heard of him and she was pretty sure her grandmother hadn’t either.
“You don’t think I’d let my favorite granddaughter fly all the way to Tombouctou without doing a little research.” As far as Grammy was concerned, anywhere outside of Manhattan was the end of the earth. “Well, is he good-looking?”
Something quivered low in Eliza’s belly—indicating that she wasn’t as numb as she’d thought. It was quickly followed by guilt that she could be feeling anything so frivolous. “It doesn’t matter what he looks like. What matters is that he’s passionate about food and has offered me the fresh start I need.”
“So he is good-looking.” Grammy sounded victorious. “I might have to jump on a plane and come and check him out myself if there’s potential for a romance.”
“I think he’s about forty years too young for you.”
Grammy laughed. “I meant for you, my dear.”
That’s what Eliza had been afraid of.
“I’m not looking for love,” she said, trying to put her grandmother straight. Her heart had been so full of love once and she’d lost it all in the most tragic of circumstances. Even thinking about loving another left her feeling chilled.
“Did I say anything about love?” Grammy tsked. “Not all relationships have to be serious you know? Fun and mutual pleasure are just as important. I should know.”
Eliza blushed. She should be used to her grandma’s frankness about sex by now, but it still made her want to cover her ears.
“Even if that’s true,” she said, “getting involved with my boss would be asking for all sorts of trouble. Been there, done that before, and you know how it ended.”
“What happened with Jack was not because Tyler was your boss,” Grammy said almost tersely.
But as much as she loved her grandmother, Eliza really didn’t want to get into all that—again—right now. “It’s a moot point anyway,” she said, equally as terse. “I’m not ready for another man in my life yet.”
Deep down, she didn’t think she’d ever be ready but if Grammy thought there was a slight chance, maybe she’d stop pushing.
“Okay,” Grammy relented. “Tell me about Jewell Rock instead, then.”
And despite the tiredness she felt from getting up at the crack of dawn, flying across America, getting a job and house hunting all in one day, this was something she could give her grandmother.
“It’s beautiful. The complete opposite of New York, but I think you’d love it. There’s a big gorgeous lake near where I’m going to live and I’ll wake up every day to a view of the mountains. I’m going shopping tomorrow to buy stuff for my apartment, but over the weekend, I hope to have some time to play tourist. I’ll email you some photos.”
“I’d rather you send me a bottle of McKinnel’s whiskey!”
Eliza puffed out a breath of amusement. “I think that can probably be arranged. Now, as much as I love talking to you, I’m exhausted and I’ve got a big few days ahead so I need to try to get some sleep.”
Try being the operative word—sleep hadn’t been something she’d easily achieved for a long while.
“It’s not even midnight here,” Grammy proclaimed. “You young things these days have no stamina. But you’re probably right. I need my beauty sleep.” Then her tone turned serious. “I love you, cherub. Look after yourself and remember I’m always here—any time of the day or night—to talk if you need it. I might not have suffered a loss like yours, but I’m an old woman and I’ve experienced enough in my long life to know that when you’re hurting you shouldn’t bottle it all up inside. Promise me you’ll call when you’re feeling low.”
Eliza tried to swallow the lump that rose in her throat and blink away the tears that came at her grandmother’s loving concern. “I promise,” she whispered and then quickly disconnected the call before she lost it.
No matter how far she ran from the scene of her heartbreak, she knew she’d never escape the pain but, somehow, she had to learn to live with it. And maybe McKinnels’ Restaurant was exactly what she needed to help her do so!
Lachlan hated to be late on Eliza’s first day but getting two kids ready and off to school in the morning took three times longer than one kid. And Hallie’s hair was responsible for almost half an hour of that time. Thankfully, his mom had offered to take Hamish, so he could drive Hallie into Bend and talk to her teacher to make sure everyone knew that he was the first point of contact for the foreseeable future. Hallie seemed to be taking the change in stride but he’d wanted to spend a little one-on-one time with her just to be sure.
When he finally arrived back at the distillery, his new head hostess was sitting on the restaurant’s front step, her elbows resting on her knees, waiting for him. A bicycle was off to one side, leaning against the building. Even though he’d told her she could wear casual clothes until they’d sorted out the uniforms—one of the many jobs on his to-do list for the next few days—Eliza looked professional in smart black trousers, a short-sleeved pink blouse and her hair held back off her face with some kind of pink clip. Pink looked good on her, he thought as he approached—a color he’d never seen the benefits of before now.
“Good morning,” he said as she stood to greet him. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Isn’t that usually the employee’s line?”
He grinned, feeling some of the tension dispersing that had built up inside him since Hamish woke at 6:00 a.m. “Perhaps, but I don’t like being tardy and I am genuinely sorry you had to wait. Can I get you a coffee to make up for it?”
“Sounds good. Thank you.” She hitched her purse against her shoulder as they headed toward the door.
He slipped the key into the lock, pushed the door open and then held it as Eliza went through. The scent of caramel wafted by as she passed him and he wondered if it was perfume or if she’d had something sweet for breakfast. He’d never smelled such a scent on a woman before—his mom, sisters and ex-wife all preferred floral aromas—and he liked it. A lot.
“How was your weekend?” he asked, pushing the thought of caramel to the back of his mind as he flicked the switch so light flooded the restaurant. “Sophie told me you took the apartment. Are you all settled in?”
“Yes,” she said, putting her purse down on one of the tables. “Everything seems to have fallen into place. Your sisters are wonderful.”
“They have their moments,” he said, secretly in complete agreement. His younger sisters were pretty fantastic and the best aunts he could want for his kids, always helping out whenever they could. They’d both make great moms one day, but so far, neither of them had been lucky in the love department.
“What about you?” she asked. “How was your weekend?”
“Busy,” he replied as he went behind the bar and turned on the coffee machine. “I played cabdriver to Hallie and my son, Hamish—they have better social lives than me—and then in the evenings I came in here and experimented with a few more dishes.”
He yawned at the thought, his body in dire need of a caffeine injection. He’d already had one cup of coffee this morning but it wasn’t enough, not at the moment when he was burning the candle at both ends.
“Anyway,