One More Taste (One and Only Texas #2)(11)

What a dick.

Everyone shifted uncomfortably, including Ty. Haylie cast her eyes down, blushing furiously.

Knox squared a look at Wendell. “No, actually.”

A knock sounded at the open door. Everyone turned, relieved at the distraction. A woman Knox would recognize anywhere filled the doorway, a folder clutched in her arms and a hard-set look of determination on her face. Chef Emily Ford. The first and only woman to ever overturn a bowl of soup onto him in anger—even if it had been an accident. The occasion also marked the first and only time he’d managed to ruin two perfectly good suits in one day.

On the night of the soup incident, as he’d lain sleepless in his hotel room, he’d given the matter some thought. Emily had had good reason to attack him with food. He’d insulted her by implying she was sexually involved with Ty. It’d been a reasonable conclusion, given their obvious closeness, but still. It was rude and sexist. An apology was owed. He’d already added the task to his calendar. For the coming Friday, if memory served. But it seemed she’d messed with his careful plans—again.

Today, she wore another crisp white chef’s jacket unbuttoned over black leggings and a thin, charcoal gray T-shirt. Her curly hair had been tamed with a headband, a ponytail, and innumerable bobby pins.

She took in the crowd in Knox’s office with a gulp. After a nod and a nervous smile at Carina, she settled her determined gaze on Knox. “I couldn’t help but overhear, and, for what it’s worth, I agree with Carina that Haylie would be a terrific secretary.”

Ty and Haylie both raised their eyebrows.

“You do?” Haylie said.

“She does,” Carina said. “I do, too.”

Knox wasn’t sure why he trusted Emily’s opinion over Ty’s or the others, but he did. Emily had proven, when she’d pulled up a chair during his meeting with Ty that she didn’t pander. As opposed to the Briscoe clan, pretense wasn’t in her vocabulary.

Knox thrust out his hand to Haylie. “Then it’s settled. Haylie, you’re hired. Unless you need more time to consider my offer.”

“No!” Haylie said with enough gusto that she covered her mouth and seemed to take a moment to settle herself. “I mean, I accept.”

She sealed the deal with a limp handshake that had Knox fighting a cringe. That seemed to be happening a lot now that he was working at the resort.

Grandmother, er, Granny June—damn, he was going to have to give that some practice—wormed her way through the crowd to Emily. She hooked an arm around Emily’s waist and dragged her into the room with the strength of someone decades younger. Kind of made Knox wonder what she was doing with a motorized scooter in the first place. “Knox, I want you to meet a young lady near and dear to my heart, an honorary member of our family. Emily, I want you to meet my grandson, Knox.”

“They’ve met,” Carina said.

Knox glanced at his cousin and found her eyes dancing with mischief. She’d clearly been informed about the soup incident.

Emily’s cheeks pinked. For the first time, he noticed a light sprinkling of freckles on her skin. “I’m not here to apologize,” she blurted.

Well, that settled that. Her proclamation was the perfect opportunity for him to counter with, I’m the one who owes the apology. But all he could do was study the shifting color of her skin and watch her shoulders stiffen with pride.

“Emily, now’s not the best time,” Ty said.

Knox experienced an unexpected jolt of panic at the idea of her leaving. Probably because her arrival might spare him from any more agonizingly awkward small talk with Ty’s family. That had to be it because he was struck with a sudden, acute need to clear the room of everyone but Emily so he could find out what was on her mind.

Emily tucked an errant lock of hair back into her plum-colored headband. “I can see that. I’ll come back later.”

“No,” Knox said, perhaps a bit too forcefully. He realized too late that he’d stepped between Emily and the door. Clearing his throat, he added, “Sorry, everyone. If you’ll kindly take your leave. I need a private audience with Ms. Ford.”

So formal, but he couldn’t help it. Sometimes when he felt himself slipping out of control, correcting his language was the most efficient way to get himself back in line again, even if he came off sounding like an eighteenth century butler.

“Not a problem. We’ll let you two kids talk,” Granny June said, plopping down on the faux leopard fur seat of her scooter and firing it up.

Knox took his chair behind the desk as the family filed out.

Ty was the last through the door. “I’ll be in my office. Get me when you’re done. We’ve got a lot to do today.” He wagged a finger at Emily. “Behave yourself.”

A part of Knox hoped she would while the other part very much wished she wouldn’t.

Emily closed the door behind Ty, then wrapped her arm back around the folder she’d brought in and clutched it with even more vigor. Clearly, she was winding up to say something serious. A speech face, Shayla called it. He’d bet money the folder held the restaurant proposal she’d worked up for Ty, and that she was about to try to persuade Knox to green light. Not a chance. With an eight-figure budget on the line and a team of investors to answer to, Knox didn’t have the luxury of taking a chance on a no-name chef, even if he admired her gumption.