One More Taste (One and Only Texas #2)(74)
Briscoe Ranch really was one big family—a family Knox was now an inextricable part of. The keeper of the family legacy, Ty had called him.
But until tonight, he hadn’t realized what an honor that was. It was a job he wouldn’t take lightly. He was going to take all that private, hidden rot under the building’s foundation—all the rot from the past and the wounds of the generation that had come before his—and he was going to restore the integrity of its foundation. He was going to make Briscoe Ranch thrive again. He’d never been so proud to be a part of something.
And maybe, just maybe, he’d have Emily by his side while he did it.
For the first time since his dad’s passing, he felt completely at peace. He looked to the heavens. Dad, I don’t know what part you’ve played in all this, but thank you. Thank you for leading me back here, back to where I’m supposed to be.
He took Emily’s hand and kissed the back of it. “Come on. Let’s go say hi to our family.”
Chapter Seventeen
Like most great chefs, Emily thrived under pressure. When a culinary performance was do-or-die, Emily did her best work, churning out extraordinary, show-stopping dishes. None of that explained why she’d spent the week before the Briscoe Equity Group dinner party on the cusp of a panic attack.
While it was true that this was her debut performance for Knox’s business partners, he’d already promised her the restaurant, so her growing sense of dread was completely illogical. In all, they’d be hosting nearly thirty people in the private dining room at the resort’s steakhouse, including Knox’s business partners and their spouses, Ty and Eloise, and the other executives at the resort. No problem. She’d handled far larger groups than that. The menu she’d created for the night was outstanding, her staff was on their A-game, and she’d spent every night that week in Knox’s bed. And yet, she woke every morning feeling like she’d built a house of cards and that it was now on the verge of collapse.
An hour until show time, Shayla breezed into the kitchen. Though she was decked out in a sophisticated turquoise and black knee-length cocktail dress, it was her broad, genuine smile that made her ensemble truly eye-catching.
“Emily! I’m sorry to interrupt.”
Emily wiped her hands on a towel, then hugged Shayla. “No problem. You look fantastic, by the way.”
“Really? I always feel like such an imposter when I wear dresses. I’d rather have my running shoes and a sports bra on.” She took Emily’s hand and pulled her into the walk-in pantry just off the auxiliary kitchen in the steakhouse where they were operating tonight. She shut the door, then turned her high-wattage smile back onto Emily. “I just wanted to pop in and tell you how happy I am that things are working out with you and the restaurant you want to open. Knox already has me looking for a publicist to make sure it gets the international hype it deserves when we launch it.”
“Oh, wow.” International hype. Shit. She battled back a shock of fear at the idea of her parents recognizing her, of finding her after all these years and so many precautions taken to prevent them from ever discovering her. What good was a disappearing act if she let a publicist splash her image all over the globe? Guess she’d find out. It was yet another threat to her ever-more-precarious house of cards.
“Knox is really taken with you. I know I’m talking out of turn, but we’re all adults here, right? I just hope that even though you got what you wanted, that you give my brother a real chance. I like you two together. You definitely have my blessing. I mean, not that you need it.” She shook her head. “Listen to me ramble. Sorry. Anyway, congratulations again.”
Even though you got what you wanted. Words that evoked that gnawing sense of dread in Emily’s gut because they were exactly what had been on her mind all week. She hated that it appeared as though Emily had slept with Knox to get the restaurant. Check that. It didn’t merely appear that way. That was precisely what had happened. Knox’s decision to give her the restaurant wasn’t about Emily’s cooking. Not even close.
Emily swayed, dizzy and lightheaded. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want him like this. She didn’t want the appearance that she’d slept her way to the top. If Knox’s sister, arguably the person who knew him better than anyone, had drawn that conclusion, then what would the rest of the world think? More importantly, what would the food critics and bloggers and foodies who were merciless to new, overhyped restaurants—to female chefs as a whole—think? Her restaurant could be ruined before it got off the ground.
“It’s all right. And thank you for the congratulations,” she said. She even managed a smile.
“Okay, I’d better let you get back to work. I can’t wait to eat your food tonight. The menu looks great.”
Emily watched Shayla’s retreating form, stunned anew how everything had gone so horribly wrong. She drifted to the prep table where her knife sat and picked it up, chopping parsley in an attempt to soothe her nerves. But she couldn’t stop replaying Knox’s words in her head from the week before about how she’d wrapped him around her little finger before he’d tasted a single bite of her cooking. She wanted to be with him, but not like this. What happened when their affair ended? What happened if he changed his mind about running Briscoe Ranch?
Or, the better question, why the hell was she hinging her future, her home, and her career on a man?