into his face, and he suspected that took some courage on her part. Her eyes sparked. “You can’t blame your restaurant’s failure entirely on me. My reviews are just words. People can decide for themselves.”
“Sure, if they would have given me a chance. But scarcely a single patron darkened my door after that review.”
“That’s not my fault.”
“Isn’t it?”
She hesitated again.
“Maybe you’re right. I should go,” she suggested at last.
“Yes, I think you’d better,” he tossed back.
She took one last glance around, almost as if she wished she could stay. The very idea threw him and deflated some of his ire.
“Well, I appreciate your taking the time to speak with me, Connor Callahan.”
She backed up without taking her eyes off him, as though she was wary of letting down her guard. He felt a twinge of guilt at that. Had he really come off so fearsome? Wounded was more like it. This woman had callously ruined his reputation in an industry where reviews like hers could make all the difference.
“I wish you the best this time around,” she offered before finally turning and exiting his office.
When she was gone, he experienced another ripple of irritation.
She had ruined him. His first restaurant had struggled a bit at first, but his father’s faith in him had carried him through the rocky beginning. Yet when Éire had been awarded the “not worth it” rating, the clientele he’d been building suddenly dispersed into the dining rooms of trendier, more popular establishments. He knew it hadn’t all come down to Harper’s review, but her critique certainly hadn’t helped. And it wasn’t just the criticism. It was one thing if she didn’t like his food, but her words had been outright cruel, disdainful and full of snobbery. After that review...everything had begun to fall apart.
But here she was, the woman who had been the catalyst to his first restaurant’s failure, obviously as down on her luck as he had been three years ago. There was a certain poetic justice in that, and he couldn’t help feeling a deep sense of satisfaction. It wasn’t that he wished anything truly horrible on her. After all, she had just gotten him out of a tight spot. But he had to admit, there was something satisfying about learning she’d fallen from grace. It made him wonder if the old adage was true—what goes around comes around.
“IT WAS HUMILIATING,” Harper pronounced as her sister loaded another helping of summer squash salad onto her plate. “He was about to offer me the job, and then as soon as he found out who I was, he kicked me out of the restaurant.”
Tessa froze. “Seriously? He didn’t physically remove you or anything, did he?”
“No, nothing like that,” Harper hastened to reassure her. “He just made it clear I wasn’t welcome on the premises.”
Tessa clicked her tongue in disapproval, and while Harper appreciated her sister’s support, she knew she couldn’t entirely blame Connor for his reaction.
“I kind of deserved it,” she admitted. “It was a pretty mean review. In fact, it was the one that jump-started my column, gained me all sorts of attention.”
“You should apologize. Then maybe he’ll hire you.”
Harper didn’t know whether to laugh at her sister’s naïveté or cringe at the suggestion of facing Connor Callahan once more.
“I don’t think it’s that simple, Tess. He’s obviously not the kind of guy to forgive and forget. I think it’s best if I give him and his restaurant a pretty wide berth.” She paused, surprised at how disappointed she felt following this observation. It shouldn’t have mattered any more than the other restaurant owners who had turned her away. But she couldn’t help wishing she’d have a chance to see Connor Callahan again. “Have you ever been to his restaurant?”
Tessa shook her head as she forked into the quiche Harper had made for dinner. “No, it’s kind of out of the way.”
“True.” She stabbed a piece of squash and nibbled it in contemplation.
“Have you told Mom and Dad?” her sister asked after swallowing a bite of the quiche.
“About losing my job?” Harper cringed. “Not yet. But I’ll email them in another day or two.”
The thought stole what little appetite Harper had, and she put down her fork.
“You should at least tell Paige,” Tessa said. “Maybe she can help you out, pull some strings to get you another job in the city. Not that I don’t want you here,” Tessa quickly assured. “In fact, you’re welcome to stay at the cottage as long as you like.”
Harper gave Tessa a grateful smile, trying to mask her discomfort at the thought of telling her older sister how she’d been fired from her job. Paige was the golden girl of the family—graduating with top honors from college and going on to attain her master’s in risk management analysis before she’d been hired on at their father’s investment firm. Paige had climbed the ladder with her usual dexterity and efficiency, and while Harper loved her, she always felt inferior around her older sister. The last thing she wanted was to ring her up and ask for job help.
“I can’t wait that long,” Harper said. “I need a job now. And I appreciate your offer to stay here for as long as it takes, but I refuse to live here without contributing to the household expenses.”
Tessa opened her mouth to protest, but Harper held up a hand.
“I mean it, Tess. I’m not going to sponge off my baby sister. I want to pull my own weight.”
“Harper, this cottage is as much yours as mine—”
Harper held up a hand to forestall this thought. “No, Tessa. This is your home. I appreciate your letting me stay here until I get back on my feet, but the cottage belongs to you and you alone.”
After all, Tessa had been the one who had moved in here when their grandmother was dying. She had nursed Nana in the last days of her life. It was a role she was already qualified for as a pediatric nurse, but that hadn’t made the task any easier. Because her baby sister had been there for their grandmother on a daily basis, and because Tessa loved this town, Nana had left the cottage to her. Nana had made sure Paige and Harper received bequests of equal value upon her passing, but since Findlay Roads had become a resort destination, the burgeoning real-estate market had tripled the value of the cottage.
But Harper didn’t begrudge her. No, the cottage was Tessa’s and for good reason. And Harper had no intention of living there as if the place were her own.
She pushed her plate aside and suppressed a sigh. Of all the people in the world, why did it have to be Connor Callahan who owned the Rusty Anchor? She drummed her fingers on the tabletop, lamenting every harsh review she’d ever written and letting a sigh escape.
“How about if we do lunch tomorrow? I could take the afternoon off. We’ll go shopping in that new boutique on Second Street. My treat.”
Harper shook her head. “Thanks, but I think I’ll hit the pavement again and see if I can find any other job openings.” There had to be something available, even with most establishments already hired up for the season.
Tessa stood to clear the dinner dishes. “Try not to stress yourself out about it. Things will look up soon. I’m sure of it.”
She touched a reassuring hand to Harper’s shoulder, and Harper nodded. But as soon as Tessa turned around, she rested her cheek in her palm and frowned.
* * *
“WAKE UP, MY lazy bones.”
Connor