One More Taste (One and Only Texas #2)(12)
He gestured toward the empty chair in front of his desk. “You didn’t bring any dishes of food to throw at me, which is surprising. I expected a cream pie to the face the next time I saw you.”
She perched on the edge of the seat, curling the corners of the papers in the folder with the pad of her thumb. He kept silent, feigning patience while she gathered her thoughts.
“You haven’t fired me,” she said finally.
Neither had Ty, though Knox wasn’t surprised at that now, given how close Emily was with the Briscoes. As for Knox, he probably should have considered it, or at least consider writing her up with human resources to start a paper trail that would justify an eventual firing, should it come to that. But he wouldn’t. For the same reason he’d taken her advice about hiring Haylie. An honest employee was a rare gift. “True.”
“Are you waiting to lay me off along with the rest of the restaurant staff? If I were you, that’s how I’d play it. All of us at once.” She said it matter-of-factly, and as though she’d given it a lot of thought in the weeks since their first meeting and had worked up to a healthy emotional detachment from the prospect.
“Are you trying to convince me to fire you?” Knox asked.
“No. I’m trying to figure you out, but you’re resisting.” She tipped her ear toward her shoulder and narrowed her eyes at him, as though gazing at him sideways might help her see him more clearly.
“I’m the one resisting? I’m your boss. You don’t need to figure me out. That’s not a job requirement.”
“It is for me,” she said. “You should have eaten the peach soup.”
What was she thinking, dredging that back to the surface when she should have been buttering him up to hear her restaurant proposal? He didn’t owe her an answer. What he ate was not her concern, but he found himself answering anyway. “Food is nothing to me, nothing but fuel and an inconvenient necessity.”
“I figured,” she said on a sigh. It was a wonder she didn’t reach out to pat his hand and tell him she was praying for his soul.
Maybe he should have eaten the damn soup, after all. “You came to my office to see me. Why? I can’t believe it’s to rehash the soup incident.”
On her next exhalation, she splayed her hands over the folder in her lap. “I’m more than qualified to open a five-star, destination restaurant at Briscoe Ranch. And I’m here this morning to ask you to let me prove that to you.”
Having anticipated the reason for her visit, he was ready with his reply. “That sort of qualification is proven with credentials, of which you have none. Show me a James Beard award. Show me an apprenticeship at a Michelin starred restaurant. Show me the names of the award-winning chefs you’ve trained under.”
She was silent, her expression remaining regal. She curved her fingers over the edge of the folder and gripped it tight. Her nails were short, her fingers stubby. The backs of her hands were splashed with freckles in the same hue as those on her cheeks. Her stalwart pride was too much to bear. His thoughts drifted to her no-nonsense fashion sense and her passion for her cooking.
He looked into those proud green eyes and something cracked inside Knox. Screw his policy to never over explain his choices to a subordinate. If it hadn’t been so early in the morning, he would have cracked open the scotch and poured them each a finger.
“Emily, listen. It’s not personal, I assure you. My job is to transform Briscoe Ranch into a luxury resort. Not only for weddings, but for a complete five-star experience, from the rooms to the spa, from hospitality staff and the golf course to the dining experiences offered here. What I’m setting out to accomplish here is bigger than you and your dream.”
He cringed inwardly at that last sentiment. It was the truth but brutally worded. Even if she hated him for it, he hoped she could appreciate his forthrightness the way he appreciated hers.
She didn’t reel in defeat. If anything, the fierceness in her eyes shone even brighter. “You buy under-performing businesses and transform them so they’ll reach their true potential. Every article I’ve read about you goes on and on about your sixth sense for detecting diamonds in the rough.”
“That’s true. I do.” God, he sounded like a pompous ass. That wasn’t usually his style, but Emily’s unconventional ways were throwing him off his game. She’d gotten in his head and scrambled his composure like few people could. He stood and buttoned his jacket, prepared to usher Emily out of his office. Time to end this slow bleed of his dignity. “Let me show you out. I have a busy day ahead.”
Emily took his cue and stood, though she didn’t budge from her place before his desk. “I am like this hotel, Mr. Briscoe. Knox. I am an under-performing business that hasn’t reached its true potential. But you won’t give me the chance to prove that to you. I bet that sixth sense of yours is telling you to give me a shot at this. I also bet you’re ignoring it. Why, when you’ve built a fortune listening to your gut?”
He stopped short. How could it be that this woman, this stranger, had such insight into him? She was right; his sixth sense was on high alert. Could it be that he’d found yet another diamond in the rough in the hills of Texas?
He shook the crazy notion away because the facts remained. “Ty told me about you. You’ve worked at this resort since right out of culinary school a decade ago. No internships, no stints as a sous chef at a celebrated restaurant, nothing remarkable, not even a chef competition show on TV. Your whole career, you’ve been here at Briscoe Ranch, laboring in obscurity. If you’re so talented, then why have you been holding yourself back?”