Holly versus Mr. Ivy by Amanda P. Jones
Chapter 6
Rhett
Holly’s need to keep everything boxed up. Would it really hurt that much for her to share one tiny detail about her personal life? She was acting like my questions were a hostile interrogation.
Maybe it was time to be a little more subtle. Ease her into a friendship, like entering a hot tub. One toe at a time, until she was comfortable enough to settle in for a nice, long soak. Unless she didn’t want to be friends. Then there was no use trying to learn anything about her.
She sighed. “Not everyone likes talking all the time, unlike you.” She fluttered her hand up and down in my direction.
So her refusal to answer my question had nothing to do with me. Holly just didn’t like talking, ever? Sounds like Jack. “What exactly do you mean by that?”
She faced me head on. “It’s not easy for me to discuss details about myself with strangers.”
We’d worked together for almost a month. “We’re hardly strangers,” I pointed out.
“Aren’t we, though?” She raised a brow. “Besides the fact that you work here and that your uncle owns this place, what else have you told me about yourself?”
Not a lot, at her insistence. But I knew things about Holly that she hadn’t told me. I just picked up on them. Like how she preferred her coffee black. She furrowed her brows often when observing her workers. She always came to work with her hair down and pulled it back in the hallway before walking into the kitchen. Her voice was a beautiful medley of sound, even when it took on the commanding tone in the kitchen. Her office showed she liked bold colors, and I’d bet by the red sports car she drove, she had a wild side she kept hidden.
I didn’t say anything of that, in case she thought I was a freaky stalker instead of just observant. “What do you want to know about me?” I was a fairly open book, unless it came to my mental health or my exes.
“Why restaurant management?”
How did I phrase this so I didn’t come across as a rich, stuck-up snob? “Growing up, we often went out to dinner since my dad worked a lot and my mom can barely boil water, and I mean that in the nicest way possible.” I grinned, remembering my mom trying to make cookies when I was little. They’d turned out salty, flat, and crisp as a cracker. “I love my mom, but her strengths lie elsewhere. Anyway, everything about restaurants fascinated me. The people who came to ask what I wanted, the workers tucked in the back using appliances I had no clue how to use, and food that was so delicious it almost seemed magical.”
I rubbed the side of my neck. “My dad wanted me to follow in his footsteps and become an investment banker like him. The thought of sitting behind a desk all day staring at numbers literally made me itch with boredom. I couldn’t do it. I love the hustle and bustle of the job, the challenges, the fact that we’re creating a memory for those who dine with us. People come here to celebrate their biggest moments in life. I love that I get to witness it, play a small part in it.”
Holly offered me a soft smile. “That’s a really good reason.”
“What about you? Why become a chef?”
She pointed at me. “No laughing.”
I drew a cross over my heart with my finger. “I won’t.”
She kept her gaze on the floor. “My mom and I loved to spend time together in the kitchen growing up. We constantly had the cooking channel on. Every Saturday morning before chores, we’d find a new breakfast recipe to try. I always wanted to be one of the chefs on those shows because they inspired me to learn different methods and recipes. I followed that dream. Well, not by going on a show, but becoming a chef.”
Loved, as in, used to? Why didn’t they cook together anymore? Why had she thought I would laugh at that? And look at that, she’d said something about herself and lived to tell the tale. “I love that you knew what you wanted at a young age and went after it. My best friend is in California right now competing on Baking Spirits Bright.”
Her jaw dropped. “No way! That’s so cool. I still want to go on a cooking show someday. I hope he wins.”
I grinned. “Trust me, if my friend Jack can make it on that show, you’re a shoo-in.”
She blinked. “What’s wrong with your friend?”
I barked out a laugh. “Funnily enough, you remind me of him. He doesn’t like being around other people and hates talking.” Maybe that’s why Holly’s leave me alone vibes didn’t scare me. I’d dealt with Jack since high school. I was a pro with grumps.
“Sounds like we would get along just fine.”
I laughed more. “I’m sure you would. Also, I’d like to point out, you managed to share a personal experience with me and you’re still breathing.”
She scowled. “Don’t push your luck, Mr. Ivy.”
I chuckled. “I wouldn’t dare.”
A woman with tattoos up and down her left arm opened the door. The pink bandana in her light-brown hair complemented her baby-blue denim shirt she’d rolled up at the sleeves. She was a modern Rosie the Riveter. I dug her vibe.
Holly offered her a formal smile and an outstretched hand. “Hi, you must be Skye.”
“I am. Are you Chef Dewhurst?”
I liked her already.
“Yes, and this is Mr. Ivy, the general manager of The Boardwalk.”
I held out a hand to Skye, giving her a full smile. “Nice to meet you. I like your headband.” I pointed to her hair.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” she said, shaking my hand. “And thank you. I feel naked when I’m not wearing one.” Her cheeks went red. “Forget I added that last part. You don’t need to know that.” She let out an embarrassed chuckle.
I grinned. I had a lot of comebacks for that, but avoiding sexual harassment trumped any response.
Holly rolled her eyes at me.
Come on! She had to know I’d taken the high road by not verbally responding.
“Let’s head to my office.” Holly gestured for me to start walking.
I went first, letting the ladies chat while we made the short walk.
“I love your Converse,” Holly said.
Why was she so nice and warm with this stranger, but not with me? Was there something about me that put Holly on edge? The feelings I’d shut out since Lexi had dumped me resurfaced around Holly. She intrigued me, and I couldn’t help but try to slide the pieces into place that made her who she was.
But I couldn’t do that if she kept throwing up walls, keeping me out. I wanted her to open up to me like she was with Skye. To let me be her friend, and not just a coworker. I just had to remind myself that friendship was the only option on the table—and only if Holly wanted it. I couldn’t risk my promotion—or my heart again—by chasing after a relationship.
“Thank you,” Skye said. “They’re my lucky shoes.”
Holly inhaled sharply, a little squeal coming out. “I have a lucky red pair of shoes! They’re my favorite, and I wear them whenever I need a little boost.”
“Same, girl. Same.”
Seriously? It was like I was Lord Licorice, evil villain, and Skye was King Kandy. It irked me that I had to fight for any type of conversation, but Skye just waltzed in here and Holly treated her like they’re best friends.
Too bad for Holly I wasn’t giving up. I’d find a way for her to see that being friends with me wasn’t as awful as she expected.
In Holly’s office, I stood to the side, allowing Holly to walk around her desk and get settled into her chair before I sat next to her. I would do as Holly asked and stay quiet, even though last time I didn’t feel like I’d taken over. I had only been doing my due diligence.
“Tell us why you’re looking for a new position,” Holly asked, completely at ease in her chair. During the last interviews, she’d kept her back as straight as a soldier under scrutiny.
Skye’s neck blotched pink. “Well, my ex-boyfriend is the executive chef where I work right now, and it’s awkward, to say the least.” She let out a nervous chuckle. “I really enjoyed my job until I found out he was cheating on me. It’s hard to see him every day under the circumstances.”
This was exactly why Uncle Anthony’s rule was in place. I scribbled on my tablet: relationships with coworkers. Possible issue.
Holly stated, “We have a no fraternization policy here. Will that be a problem?”
Skye shook her head. “No, it won’t. I’m done dating coworkers.”
“Good.” Holly smiled. “Where do you see yourself in five years?”
She grimaced. “I hope this doesn’t hurt my chances, but I really want to open a farm-to-table diner.”
If I ever owned a restaurant of my own, I’d want to start with something similar. I loved the idea of taking food someone planted, nurtured, and cared for in the rich soil of the earth and then preparing it for others to enjoy.
“I think it’s great you have a goal in mind,” Holly said. “A lot of people don’t. How do you handle stress?”
“I kickbox every morning. It’s a great outlet for my emotions while keeping my arms strong for work.”
I had a punching bag hung up in my basement with the rest of my workout equipment. Skye was right: punching and kicking the crap out of a bag released built-up tension. Even better when I pictured someone’s face in the middle of it.
Holly perked up. “What are your greatest strengths?”
Skye’s lips pulled back on one side, lost in thought. After a moment, she said, “I’d say my ability to be flexible and my time management.”
I jotted down a few notes about Skye. Easy-going, goal-oriented, seems laid-back but focused.
Holly nodded. “Those are great skills, especially in our environment. Would you say you’re a team player or prefer to be on your own?”
Skye shrugged. “I’m good with either. I’m fine getting my tasks done on my own or coming together when the need calls for it.”
Skye was the ideal candidate. Part of me worried she was saying all the right things just to get the job, but my gut—which I trusted—said she was the real deal. Like we’d somehow found our wagyu beef amongst all the round steaks. My eyes widened. I was not calling Skye a cow. Good thing neither woman had mindreading abilities. Sheesh, that would end badly.
Holly asked Skye a few more questions, and Skye answered as expected. The only red flags came from her ex-boyfriend working with her and that she wouldn’t stay forever. All in all, Skye was our girl.
“We’ll be in touch.” Holly stood, offering her hand across her desk for Skye to shake. I did the same, then Skye left, a smile on her face as she went.
“That went well,” I hedged. I’d stayed silent, just like Holly wanted.
“It did. Goodbye, Darby.” She waved one hand, then the other.“Hello, Skye.”
“As soon as Skye accepts the position, we’ll pull Darby in and terminate her employment.”
Holly ran her hands down her sides. “Yeah. Okay.”
I went to squeeze her shoulder but dropped my hand. Holly most definitely did not want me touching her. “Hey, I’ll be there the whole time. You won’t have to face her alone.”
Holly’s lips pulled into a straight line. “I’m not saying I need you to be there, because I can handle it on my own.”
I shrugged. “If that’s what you prefer.”
She held out a hand. “But—it would be nice to have your support. Darby isn’t a fan of mine, and I can already tell this won’t go over well.”
“Want me to do it on my own? I haven’t known Darby long. She can place the blame entirely on me and leave you out of it.” Though I didn’t love the idea, I would do it for Holly.
Holly rubbed her forehead. “I appreciate the offer, but this needs to come from me.”
I smiled proudly at her, my heart expanding at the way she hadn’t backed down from a hard situation. “Okay.”
We went back to the front, waiting for the next candidate. When he walked in, I got an immediate vibe that he was a no-nonsense type. Still, he greeted Holly and me politely, answered the interview questions with ease, and even cracked a smile a few times. Compared to the other people we’d interviewed, I was satisfied Marcus would perform the job just fine and that he would be a better employee than Josh.
After Marcus left, I stood, stretching my back. “I’d say we found our two new chefs.”
“Agreed.” Holly pulled up our standard employment contract. “I’ll get these sent to Skye and Marcus now. Hopefully, they’ll be able to start as soon as possible. I’ll keep you posted. We’re one step closer to that party you’re dying to throw.”
I settled my hands on my waist. “I’m not dying to throw a party,” I said in a dry tone. Again, she’d insinuated I loved that scene. Shocking to most, I didn’t. Give me my time at the restaurant to chat and smile, and then I needed space at night to relax without stressing about being “on.”
“Aren’t you?” she challenged.
I cocked my head to the side. “I’m trying to increase revenue, that’s all.”
“Yes, well, now that we have all the new hires ready to go, should we plan it for three weeks from now?”
That should give me plenty of time to create a quick handout detailing the incentives offered as well as plan a game or two. “Yeah, that works. Just let me know when you’re ready for a meeting with Darby and Josh. We should have them come in before everyone gets here so they can leave quietly.” If that was even possible. As Holly stated, I was pretty sure Darby would be highly vocal, like a foghorn announcing her displeasure to the world. “Oh, and will you schedule visits to the food vendors? Sometime in the next week?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
I smirked. “I kind of like that title.”
She rolled her eyes. “You would.”
“I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”
“I won’t,” she stated.
A phrase she said all too often.