Читать книгу Dynasties: The Jarrods - Emilie Rose, Maureen Child - Страница 16

Guy Jarrod had once been a sought-after chef, with a reputation of excellence, but when he opened his own restaurant, he’d stepped out from behind the stove so to speak. He’d learned to love the business of running the restaurant even more than he had the actual art of cooking.

Now, he hired and fired chefs, made sure everything ran the way he wanted it to. But being back at Jarrod Ridge doing what he did best hadn’t been on his agenda. Trust his father to make sure he eventually got his way where his children were concerned … even if it meant he had to die to do it.

Still irritated at being managed from beyond the grave, Guy had to admit that running the five-star restaurant at the Ridge was turning out to be a better gig than he’d expected it to be. He had big plans for the place.

Over the years, the restaurant and the general manager of the hotel had become, not lax, exactly, but complacent. They stayed with what worked rather than trying out new things. That was about to change.

All he had to do was get accustomed to being back here again.

“Excuse me, Mr. Jarrod?”

“What is it?” He looked up as one of the servers rushed into the wine cellar off the kitchen. A young kid who looked familiar, Guy hadn’t had time to learn all their names yet.

“Mr. Hanford’s in the dining room with a guest. He asked if you could come out to speak with them.”

Christian. Well, part of being back in Aspen was going to entail dealing with his brothers, his sister—sisters, he reminded himself sternly—and Christian. They’d been friends once, Guy reminded himself. Now, they were business colleagues all because of one old man’s stubborn refusal to let go of his children.

“Fine. Tell him I’ll be right there.” He left the wine cellar where he’d been taking a personal inventory—he wanted to know exactly what the restaurant had on hand and didn’t trust anyone else to do it right.

That thought brought him up short. Maybe he was more like his old man than he’d ever thought.

He stalked through the kitchen, out into the main dining room, his gaze constantly shifting. He checked on the servers, on the table settings, on the flowers. He noticed the tablecloths and the flatware and the shine on the silver and brass espresso machine. He had a sharp eye, no tolerance for sloppy work and he intended to make good use of those traits now that he was back running this place the way it always should have been run.

Guy spotted Christian sitting at a booth in the back. As he got closer, he saw that across from him was a trim, pretty brunette with amber eyes. She looked vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn’t place her. Which meant, Guy thought suddenly, this was the long-lost sister they’d all been waiting to meet. Her familiarity was simply that she had something of the Jarrod family stamped on her features.

They hadn’t noticed his approach yet, so he took that spare moment to observe her. Pretty, he thought again. But she looked on edge. And hell, who could blame her? All of them had been dragged back to Jarrod Ridge whether they liked it or not.

Yet she had the worst of it, he thought. At least he and his siblings had each other. She was the stranger in a strange land. Despite a flicker of sympathy for her, though, Guy agreed with his twin. A newly acknowledged sister didn’t deserve an equal share of the estate.

Christian caught Guy’s gaze as the man approached. He also noticed the appraising gleam in the man’s eyes as he gave Erica a quick once-over. He knew Erica was nervous about this meeting, but Christian was glad she would be starting out by meeting Guy. This Jarrod sibling had always had a cooler head than most of the others.

Well, except for Trevor. There wasn’t much in life that shook Trevor.

“Christian, good to see you,” Guy said, but he wasn’t looking at him. Instead the man’s eyes were locked on Erica. “And you must be my new little sister.”

She flushed nervously, but she lifted her chin, stuck out her hand and said, “That’s me. But I usually go by Erica.”

“Good one,” he said and shook her hand briefly. “So, you getting settled in?”

“I am, but I think it’s going to take me a while to be able to find my way around.”

“I’m pretty sure the front desk has maps,” he said, giving her a smile. “What do you think of the Manor?”

“It’s gorgeous,” she blurted, looking around the half-full dining room at the guests gathered there. “It must have been a wonderful place to grow up.”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Guy tugged at the edge of the tablecloth, smoothing out a tiny wrinkle in the fine linen. “Christian told us you were in PR back in San Francisco.”

“Yes, I was.”

“That’ll come in handy, then.” A server slipped up behind him, whispered something and then drifted away again. “I’m sorry. There’s something in the kitchen I need to handle. Christian, good to see you again. Erica.” He shifted his gaze to hers and held it for a long moment before smiling. “I’ll be seeing you around.”

When he was gone, Erica blew out a breath.

“Wasn’t so bad, was it?” Christian watched her as she reached for her water glass and took a sip. Guy could have been a little more welcoming, but on a scale of one to ten, ten being a warm hug and one a shotgun reception—he’d scored about a five.

“A little nerve-racking, but all in all, not bad,” she admitted. Then she asked, “What did Guy mean, my PR skill will come in handy?”

Christian had wanted to give her a day or two to get used to being here, but there was no point in putting things off. There was a lot coming up and since she was now expected to take her place in the Jarrod family, she might as well get her feet wet right away.

“The food and wine gala is coming up in a few weeks,” he said. “It’s a big deal in Aspen. Held every year, lasts several weeks and has foodie and wine lovers in the country and in Europe coming into town to enjoy themselves.”

“I’ve read about it,” she said. “And seen some coverage on the news every year, too. It’s practically a Mardi Gras type thing, isn’t it?”

“Close enough,” he told her. “The city depends on the tourism dollars and the gala the Jarrods sponsor is a big part of that. As one of the Jarrods, you’re right in the middle of this one.”

Her eyes went wide, but she nodded and said,

“Tell me.”

Again, he had to admire how she was able to go with the flow. She was strong, but she had the tendency to bend, not break. Most of the women he’d known in his life would still be sitting in San Francisco trying to come to terms with everything she’d dealt with in the last few days. Not Erica Prentice though. Once her decision was made, she gave it her all.

For a tiny thing, she was formidable.

Her gaze was locked on him and he found himself getting distracted by those amber depths. By the way she chewed at her bottom lip when she was thinking. Hell, he was distracted by her, period.

Grumbling to himself, his voice was brusque and businesslike as he said, “Your brother Trevor is the marketing expert. He’s been running his own company right here in Aspen for years. Now, he’s taking over the marketing for Jarrod Ridge.”

“Big job.”

“It is,” he said, “and so is yours. You’ll be the new head of the Ridge’s PR department.”

When she looked startled, he added, “You’ll be working with Trevor directly on most of it. You’ll have your own office at the Manor, so you’ll be on site more often than Trevor. The two of you will probably see a lot of each other over the next few weeks.”

“Won’t that be fun.”

Worry had crept into her voice again and he reminded her, “Trevor’s pretty laid-back. He’s not going to be a hard-ass, so nothing to worry about there.”

She took a deep breath. “Hope you’re right about that.”

“I am. Just as I’m right about thinking you’ll handle yourself well here.”

“Right into the deep end then?”

“Any reason to think you can’t swim?” Christian asked and watched as she seemed to consider his question.

Finally, she shook her head, gave him a fierce, bright smile and said, “I’ll swim.”

“I bet you will,” he said, staring at her as she picked up her leather-backed menu and perused the offerings. He wished to hell he didn’t find her more and more intriguing with every passing minute. What was it about this one small, curvy woman that had his body tied up in knots and his brain overheating?

Was it the lure of the unattainable?

He didn’t think so. There had been plenty of women when he was younger who had been out of his league. A townie kid with a single mom didn’t really have the means to play in the ball games of the rich and famous. But he wasn’t that kid anymore and he could have the pick of any woman he wanted.

What he couldn’t figure out was why that didn’t seem to matter.

The one woman he wanted was also the one woman he couldn’t have.

Two hours later, Erica was alone in her suite. Sunset was deepening into twilight but here in her rooms, the lamplight was bright and she was too wrapped up in what she was doing to even notice the end of her first day in Colorado. Christian had gone back to work after their early meal—excusing himself as quickly as possible with a claim of having to get some work done before morning. Once she was on her own, Erica had done a little exploring.

Now, she sat on the couch in her new living room and looked at all of the magazines, books, postcards and brochures she had spread out around her. She’d practically bought out the gift shop downstairs, buying up every item she could find pertaining directly to Jarrod Ridge.

And there had been plenty to choose from. The brochures listed every activity to be found at the resort and the book described the history of the place. She’d stared at the black-and-white photos of her grandparents and biological father with a fascination that had kept her captive for nearly twenty minutes. The grainy images of men in worn jeans and cowboy hats were so far removed from the tidy heritage she’d grown up hearing about, it was fascinating. She’d looked for resemblances between the people in those old pictures and herself and she’d found them. The shape of her eyes, the curve of her mouth. It was odd to see something of herself in people she had never met.

Yet in a weird way, it was almost comforting.

Her family was bigger than she’d ever imagined. They had been adventurers, dreamers. Men and women who had come to the middle of nowhere and built a life, a legacy that had lasted. Their dreams had grown and blossomed and had become something very special.

And she was a part of it.

A very small link in a lengthy chain.

When a knock sounded on her door, she was at first surprised, then a second later, a little worried about who might be dropping by. But then, she thought, it might be Christian. He might have decided to come back and take her on a little tour of the hotel. That thought spurred her off the couch and toward the front door. She fluffed her hair, smoothed her shirt and smiled to herself at the prospect of being with him again.

But when she opened the door, there was a woman standing there, holding two bottles of wine.

“Red or white?” she asked, walking past Erica into the living room.

“I’m sorry?” Confused, Erica just watched her.

“Red or white? Which do you prefer?”

“Uh, that depends, I guess …”

The woman grinned at her. “Good answer. I’m your sister, Melissa. And I’ve just stolen some wine from our brother Guy’s private reserve so that you and I can get to know each other.”

Hard to feel out of sorts or uncomfortable with Melissa Jarrod beaming goodwill toward her. Although the woman did manage to make Erica feel a little frumpy in her wrinkled clothes. Melissa was wearing sleek black jeans, an off the shoulder, silk turquoise top and black sandals that were really nothing more than three slinky straps and a three-inch heel. Her long blond hair hung loose down her back and her wide blue eyes were sparkling with challenge and welcome.

“You stole the wine from Guy?” Erica repeated, closing the door, then turning to face her sister.

“Sure did. There may be hell to pay tomorrow, but tonight, we party.”

“That actually sounds like a great plan,” Erica said, smiling.

Melissa grinned right back. “Just so you know,” she said, “if we both drink it, we both face Guy’s wrath. A united sister front.”

“Sisters,” Erica repeated.

Melissa wrinkled her nose then shrugged. “I know. Sounds weird still, doesn’t it? Does to me, too. But I think you and I are going to make a terrific team.”

Erica felt a bit of her earlier tension slide off her shoulders. Looking into her sister’s eyes, knowing that this welcome was genuine, made her feel that maybe making a home at Jarrod Ridge wasn’t going to be as difficult as she had thought it would be.

“You know,” Erica said, “I think you’re right. So, do you know if they stocked wineglasses in my new kitchen?”

Melissa led the way and threw back over her shoulder, “Since I’m the one who ordered the stocking done, I happen to know that wineglasses were first on the list.”

“Excellent,” Erica said following her into the tiny kitchen. “I’ll make some popcorn, so let’s start with the white. What do you think?”

Melissa set both bottles down onto the counter, then turned and held out her hand to Erica. “It’s a good choice. Guy stocks the best sauvignon blanc anywhere in Colorado.”

“And how will he feel about us helping ourselves?” Erica asked as she took Melissa’s outstretched hand in hers for a shake.

Shrugging, Melissa said, “Guess we’ll find out.

Together?”

“Together,” Erica agreed and for the first time since she’d arrived in Colorado, felt that there was a real chance she would be able to make her own place there.

Then the two women moved companionably in the small kitchen, getting to know each other as they worked. Halfway through the second bottle of wine—they’d decided to open another bottle of white that had been stocked in Erica’s fridge—the two women were well on their way to being fast friends.

“You make excellent popcorn,” Melissa announced.

“Thank you. I told Christian I could cook.”

“And was he impressed?” Melissa shook her head. “No, never mind. Probably not. The only things that impresses Christian are ledgers, files and injunctions.”

“You’ve known him a long time?” Erica asked, settling back into the couch and curling her feet up beneath her.

Melissa was tucked into the opposite corner of the couch. “Forever,” she said. “Since we were kids. Of course, back then, Christian was working for the resort and dear old dad didn’t approve of family and employees hanging out together. But I saw him all the time and the boys and he were sort of friends even back then. When Christian was a teenager, my father took an interest in him.” She frowned, took a sip of wine and said, “Dad loved to point out that Christian didn’t have any of the advantages that we had and yet his drive to succeed eclipsed ours.” Shaking her head at the memory, she said, “Let me tell you, there was a lot of irritation toward the great Christian when we were kids. Dad dangled his accomplishments in front of us like a perpetual taunt.” Melissa shook her head in memory. “Good thing Christian was such a nice guy or things might’ve gotten ugly. Anyway, my point is, once Dad noticed him, Christian was around the Manor a lot more.”

Erica’s mind drew up a picture of a young Christian, battling for success, trying to find a place for himself amidst the Jarrod family. It seemed she and he had a lot in common. Here she was, after all, trying to do the same thing that he had so many years ago. But it wasn’t only his adapting into the Jarrod world she was curious about. She wondered what his life had been like before Don Jarrod. In fact, she just wondered about Christian in general. Thoughts of him were never far from her mind, even though she told herself that now was definitely not the time to indulge in an attraction. She had to find her own footing here. Did she really have time to explore a relationship? And did she dare risk trusting someone so new in her life? Besides, it wasn’t as if Christian had made a move. Maybe she was alone in feeling the draw toward him. And if she was, then she’d keep it to herself.

“So,” she said, “your father took an interest in Christian and then what?”

“Our father,” Melissa corrected with a brief smile. “He helped him get into college, then hired him when he got out of law school. He’s worked for the Ridge most of his life, I guess. Dad made up his mind that Christian was going to be the official Jarrod Ridge attorney and that was that. Our father wasn’t someone easy to walk away from.” Then she cocked her head to one side. “Hearing me call him our father must be very strange for you.”

“It is.” Erica thought that was the biggest understatement of all time. She had hardly had time to wrap her own mind around it. Now finding herself sitting here with her sister was just one more oddity in a world suddenly turned upside down. But despite the craziness, she liked the camaraderie that Melissa had instigated. “Though you’re making it easier.”

“Happy to help. Trust me, I’m glad to have another female in the Jarrod ranks.”

“Thanks,” Erica said and meant it. In all the strangeness of her new world, it was good to have at least one person here who seemed to be on her side. Why Melissa had decided to be an ally seemed clear enough. Heaven knew that Erica would have loved to have a sister to help her stand against her older brothers occasionally.

“Now,” Melissa asked, pointing at the piles of brochures and pamphlets scattered across the coffee table, “what are you doing with all of this stuff?”

Laughing, Erica scooped up one or two of the forgotten pamphlets. “I was trying to learn all I could about Jarrod Ridge.”

Melissa took a sip of wine. “There’s an easier way. Just ask me.”

“Okay, I will as soon as I figure out what to ask.”

“Deal. So, Christian told me you’re in PR?”

Glad for a respite of talking about her now tangled family ties, Erica said, “Yes, and apparently that’s what I’ll be doing here, too.”

“That means working with Trevor. You’ll like him. Easygoing, hard to ruffle,” Melissa said, “unlike the rest of the bunch.”

“I met Guy this afternoon.”

“How’d that go?”

“Cool, but polite.”

“That sounds about right,” Melissa told her. “Of the twins, Guy’s more reasonable. Blake not so much. But he’ll come around. Just don’t let him scare you off.”

That didn’t sound promising, Erica thought, now even more reluctant than ever to meet Blake Jarrod. But there would be no way to avoid it and now, knowing for sure that he was going to be less than welcoming, it gave her a chance to prepare. To be ready to stand up for herself as she’d had to do most of her life.

“I’m here and I’m not leaving,” Erica told her. “If Blake’s unhappy with that, he’ll just have to get over it.”

“Good for you!” Melissa grinned at her, obviously pleased at her new sister’s inner strength.

If only she knew, Erica thought, that right now, her strength was little more than a carefully constructed front. Inside, she was quavering. But she, too, would get over it.

“Now then,” Melissa was saying, “there’s Gavin to deal with, too. He’s sort of shut-off emotionally, so probably won’t be much trouble. But good luck getting a smile out of him.”

“He sounds a lot like my older brothers.”

“That’s right. Christian told me that you’re the only girl in your family, too. What do your brothers think of you being here?”

“They tried to talk me out of it—as did my fa—” she caught herself and amended what she had been going to say. “Walter.”

Melissa reached out and patted her hand, sending her a commiserating smile at the same time. “It’s going to get confusing with all of the fathers around here, isn’t it?”

“I suppose.”

“Look, my dad may have been your biological father, but Walter’s still the man who raised you,” Melissa said softly.

“I know, it’s just …” How to explain her need to stand alone, to find answers? To live with the feelings of guilt and betrayal she had for turning her back on Walter, despite the fact that she’d never really felt any real warmth from him?

“So, are you and Walter close?”

“No,” she answered quietly, wishing she could say otherwise. “How about you and your dad?”

Melissa sighed and shook her head. “No. I was two when my mother died and my father didn’t really know what to do with me, I guess. So he did nothing.” She smiled ruefully. “I know how it sounds, poor little rich girl. The truth is though, Erica, you got the better end of this bargain. You weren’t raised here.”

“At least you had this place,” Erica told her. “It’s so beautiful here.”

“A golden jail is still a cell.” A long moment of silence passed during which Erica didn’t have a clue what to say or do. She’d have liked to offer her sister comfort, but wasn’t at all sure it would be welcome. Besides, she knew all too well that sympathy didn’t always salve ancient hurts. Sometimes it only made it worse. So she kept quiet and waited until Melissa came out of her musings herself.

“Anyway, ancient history for both of us, right? Moving on. So, PR girl … what do you think about helping me design a new menu of services for the spa?” She grabbed the old one off the coffee table and glared at it. “This one is so generic it’s tired. I’d like something splashy. Something bright. Oh, and something about the yoga classes I’m going to be teaching. Do you do yoga?”

Erica laughed at the rapid-fire statements, grateful that they’d left the subject of their fathers and sad, lonely childhoods behind. Shaking her head, she said, “Yoga? No thanks. I’m just not that bendy. But I’d love to work up a new brochure with you. If I have time with the food and wine gala preparations …”

“Oh, yeah.” Melissa sighed in disgust. “True. Okay, once you get that going, then we’ll tend to my little slice of Jarrod Ridge.”

“Sounds good.”

“So,” Melissa said, and lifted her wineglass in a toast. “Here’s to us. Sisters by birth, friends by choice.”

“Here’s to us,” Erica said and clinked her glass against the rim of Melissa’s. She could only hope that the remaining meetings with her siblings would go even half so well.