It would save me the frustration and aggravation of Noah’s arrogance and prevent the awkwardness of us having to interact with each other. I really didn’t want to talk to him, but I also didn’t want Derek to witness us attempt something like a normal conversation. I couldn’t imagine things would be very comfortable and natural between us, and I really didn’t want Derek suspecting anything.
Working at the vineyard was all I had now. I didn’t have the restaurant to fall back on or any sort of safety net built into my life. As soon as I decided to join up on this venture, I was all in on the vineyard. That meant if Derek figured out what happened between Noah and me and decided I couldn’t work there anymore, I’d have nothing.
It was hard enough being a woman in a kitchen. I didn’t need to add a reputation of sleeping with my boss. Or at the very least, the brother of my boss.
On top of that, I didn’t want Derek’s opinion of me to change. We’d gotten even closer over the time I’d been working with him, and I didn’t want anything to damage our friendship or our working relationship.
So, I would just avoid Noah. It was that simple. Don’t talk to him. Don’t try to get anywhere near him. Don’t even look at him.
It seemed like the perfect plan and got even better Monday when I found out he was finished with the bulk of the work for the kitchen and would be relegating the rest of the work to his crew so he could shift his focus to other areas and bigger projects. That was going to make it even easier to just keep my focus narrow and get this restaurant underway.
And so far, my plan was going well. I spent Monday and Tuesday working on planning the menu with Derek. We had come up with lists of potential dishes and some possible ingredients we wanted to play with, then spent those two days narrowing down the options. The actual cooking would happen starting Wednesday.
That was because neither one of us felt comfortable solidifying until we made each of the dishes, tasted them, and also made sure there was a wine that would properly accompany the dish. We couldn’t have a restaurant at a vineyard with a menu that wasn’t conducive to wine pairing. In fact, we’d drafted several special tasting menus specifically designed to accompany various wines. It was a fun challenge, like a puzzle we had to put together. And I was looking forward to making the various dishes and choosing the final ones.
It felt good to stretch my muscles. I had to think creatively, build off established flavor profiles while also being innovative and coming up with ways to introduce new ingredients and dishes. I had also never worked specifically with wine pairing and found it exciting to try to piece together the right combinations.
As a bonus, there was no Noah there to get into my brain. True to what he said at the beginning of the week, he hadn’t come into the kitchen or interacted with Derek or me at all. I was sure he was having conversations with his brother at other times, but I hadn’t seen him or heard a single word from him since Friday. I was still dreaming about him, but at least without physically seeing him, I could push it out of my mind to work.
And then it all went to hell.
I walked into work on Wednesday all fired up to start cooking and found Noah in the kitchen. I stopped at the door and stared at him, trying to figure out why he was there. I didn’t see Derek, and the construction crew wasn’t working on the expansion. It was just the two of us. Exactly what I didn’t want to encounter.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded.
Noah looked over at me and rolled his eyes. He seemed just as upset to be near me as I was to have him there.
“Derek woke up this morning sick as a dog. He’s not going to be able to come in today. But he said the two of you were supposed to be working on the menu items and testing out recipes. He said he didn’t want to lose any momentum or waste any time, so you should go ahead and try them out yourself. He says pick the ones you like the most and think are the best for the menu, then he’ll go over them when he’s back,” Noah said.
I stared at him, waiting for him to say something else. When he didn’t, I flickered my eyes back and forth and held up a hand.
“That’s it?” I asked. “He could have called me and told me that himself. Why are you here telling me that?”