Chapter Thirteen

“Good to see you, man. How was the trip?” Jameson greeted his cousin in the parking lot of the Physick Estate.

Mac gave him a short, hard hug. “Pretty damn nice. Flew business class on my sister’s dime. Watched a bunch of movies and slept decent. Is that what the good life is like?” he teased.

Jameson laughed, knowing his cousin loved to rib him about being a big time, fancy New Yorker at a starred French restaurant. “Welcome to my world. In fact, I have a huge surprise for you. I’m glad you were able to come straight here.”

Mac rubbed his hands together. “Are you kidding? I miss this place big time. Vintage is in my blood. How did everything work out? I heard there were a few bumps with the Fur Gala but it ended up being a huge success.”

He paused, wondering how much to tell his cousin, but he figured the gossip zinging around town already hinted at his experiences here. No need to go into more detail. Jameson was slated to return to work on Monday. Usually, diving into the chaos and stress of the restaurant he’d learned to love would stir excitement. It was a familiar world for the past five years, and he never questioned his happiness with the choice.

Until now.

Shaking off his thoughts, he forced a smile. “Yep, we worked out all the kinks and it was a great event.”

“Glad to hear it. And Devon? She’s an amazing woman. I heard you two have gotten close.”

“Yeah, we have.”

Mac cocked his head and studied his face. “And? Is it serious? Are you going to keep seeing her?”

The question burned in his gut because the answer sucked. Yes, but he hated the idea of fitting her in around his crazed schedule. “We’re working it out,” he said.

Mac got the message and dropped the subject. “Great. So, what’s the surprise?”

“Let’s just say I made some changes.” Mac raised a brow. “I think you’ll find a different Vintage than what you left behind.”

“That’s mysterious.”

“Come on, follow me.”

Jameson led him down the winding path and through the back. After the storm, the weather turned mild again, so customers chose to eat out on the covered patio with the heaters. It was the lull between brunch and dinner so the place was deserted.

Mac stopped on the edge of the path and stared. “Where are all the lights?”

“Got rid of them. Gave the place an upgrade. Some of that stuff was years old and outdated. I ordered new linens and settings to bring in a bit of elegance to the casual atmosphere. The colors were faded so I went with a neutral gray and offset purple for a bit of contrast. See how sleek it looks?”

Mac didn’t respond. He prowled around the patio, looking around, trying to take it all in. Excitement stirred. Finally, all his hard work would pay off when Mac saw all the amazing changes. “Your liquor license wasn’t being used appropriately so I hired a bartender, upgraded the liquor and wine choices, and put in mimosa and bloody mary specials on Sundays.”

Mac blinked. “I have a bar?”

Jameson clapped him on the shoulder with delight. “That’s right. With a sixty percent markup! How’s that for profit?”

No answer. Mac seemed a bit confused so Jameson led him to the main dining area. “You’ll see I re-arranged the tables to fit more—people don’t mind sitting close to one another so I squeezed in five more. More customers, more profit. The new rug and centerpieces allow for a more streamlined space.”

Trisha walked in and lit up when she saw Mac. “You’re back! I’m so happy! How’s your sister and the baby?”

“Everyone’s good. I’ll bore you with pics later.” A frown creased his brow. “Why are you dressed like that? All in black?”

Trisha glanced over. Her tone was neutral. “Jameson got us new uniforms.”

“I see.” Mac nodded. “I’ll talk to you later, okay? I’m getting the big tour.”

“Good luck,” Trisha muttered, hurrying away.

Jameson shook his head. “Your staff is great, Mac, but they really took advantage. I was able to get them on an organized shift schedule by denying most of their requests. I think you’ll find less turnover now. And the uniforms keep everyone on the same level. You need consistency at a restaurant—not servers displaying their own personal style everywhere. Right?”

No answer. Jameson figured his cousin was in shock. Pride weaved through him “The menu is brand-new and I think you’ll love it. Very classy and fresh. Very beach town like but with a twist. Here.” He handed it over and Mac glanced over it, turning away.

Silence settled over the room.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, but honestly? It was my pleasure to do it. You’ve always given so much to others it’s hard to watch people take advantage of you. Sure, there were some bumps in the road with people getting used to things, but I didn’t mind at all. What do you think?”

Jameson waited for his cousin to get emotional. To hug him and thank him and confess he’d been worried about Vintage and now it had been saved. He puffed up his chest, ready to accept the gratitude in a manly, humble manner. Because it was true. He’d done all of it so Mac could have a more profitable, organized restaurant.

Slowly, Mac spun around, his face full of shock, his dark eyes glittering with…

Anger.

“Jameson, what the hell did you do to my restaurant?”

He blinked. “What do you mean? I made it better. For you.”

A curse blistered the air. Mac dragged a hand through his hair, obviously pissed off. “No, you didn’t, dude. You made it worse. Why did you open a bar? And why is my staff in boring ass uniforms?” He clenched his jaw and jabbed a finger at him. “And where the hell is the pancake charcuterie board on my menu?”

“I-I changed things to make you more money! I thought Vintage was a bit dated and old, so I gave it a refresh. Look how sleek and classic it looks now. There’s brand new linens and flatware and décor. There’s mimosas and lobster tacos. The staff and the town stopped taking advantage. I did this all for you!”

The silence was shattering. Mac shook his head and stared at him with a look of deep disappointment. “No, you didn’t,” he finally said quietly. “You did it for yourself. You made Vintage into your restaurant and now I have to clean up the mess.”

“But—”

He put out a hand. “Don’t. I need some time to talk to my staff and see what I’m going to do. I’ll meet you at the house later.”

“Mac—”

But his cousin had already marched away.

Jameson glanced around the place, his insides churning with a mass of rage, shock, and bitterness. How could Mac say that? All Jameson’s hard work and sweat and pulling in big contacts had been done to make things better, and this was his thank you? His cousin stalking off and blaming him?

The hell with this.

He left Vintage, frustration nipping at his heels with every step.

Screw it. He was going home where he belonged.

* * * *

Devon walked into Vintage and spotted Mac.

Bear got ready to leap in greeting but with a firm pull and command, he sat back on his haunches. He was so smart. A burst of pride filled her until she remembered the dog wasn’t theirs.

Hers and Jameson’s.

Devon smiled as Mac walked over. He looked a bit stressed, but that would be expected returning from a month away. “Welcome back,” she greeted. “Congrats on the new member of your family.”

“Thanks. Good to see you. Is this the famous Bear who’s been living in my house?”

“This is the one. There may be a few repairs needed,” she said with a wince.

He laughed and rubbed his head. “I’m not worried about it.” They chatted a bit about his sister and trip. “Are you here to see Jameson?”

“Yes, he texted me before and said we’d meet here. Is he around?”

“He left.”

The words were thrown out like stones and landed hard and swift. “Okay. Is he at your house?”

Mac let out a frustrated breath. His features tightened with emotion. “Don’t know. We had an issue.”

Devon paused, not knowing whether to pry in family business. Then again, she loved Mac’s cousin. “Can I assume you weren’t happy with the changes he made?” she asked gently.

“You assume right.” He muttered a curse. “What the hell was he thinking? Why would he believe changing my restaurant while I was away could possibly be a good idea? This place reeks of his style and vision, not mine. Not the town’s and my customers I’ve served for years. He had no right.”

She bit her lip, not surprised at Mac’s reaction. Jameson had stubbornly refused to see what she’d tried to tell him, but she also understood now he’d done it out of love. Yes, he’d screwed up. Yes, he’d given Mac the restaurant he dreamed of creating, and had gotten blurred by his ambition. But Devon knew he’d meant to help. “I agree. I tried to warn him. We all did. But I’ve learned your cousin is a bit muleheaded when he believes something is right.”

Mac gave a half laugh. “Runs in the family.”

“I bet.” She sighed, trying to find the right way to explain. “Mac, I don’t blame you for being pissed. He should have communicated with you and listened to what you wanted. But I think he saw a way he could help his family and his intentions were good. He just got lost along the way.”

“Yeah, I know. It was just a shock, I needed to process.” He groaned. “I’ve got a lot of work to put things back in order around here.”

“Don’t be too hard on him.”

He studied her, his expression registering surprise. “Holy crap. You love him.”

She jerked back and almost fell on her ass. “Huh?”

“It’s all over your face. I should’ve known this was bigger than a fling. Jameson is married to his work—he’s not the type to get sidetracked by a holiday romance unless it was special. What are you guys going to do?”

She didn’t even bother with denial. “He’ll go back to New York. We’ll try to do the long-distance thing and work it out. Just don’t tell him how I feel, okay?”

“I won’t. But you should. It changes things.”

A sad smile curved her lips. “Exactly. I don’t want him to feel pressure to say it back, or feel he’s leading me on.”

“Jameson’s not like that. But it’s between you and I won’t get involved. I’ll talk to him later about this and straighten things out.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you later.”

She headed out with Bear and wondered if Jameson would decide to leave earlier now that Mac wasn’t happy about the surprise. But she had no control over what happened next.

Like Peter Pan said, all she could do was have faith and trust that what they had together could sustain distance and hurdles.

But damn, she wouldn’t mind a bit of pixie dust for luck.