If the talk had died down, maybe there was really no reason to avoid going back to Montana now for a visit.
Will it really be that painful anymore? I can’t avoid Montana forever.
“Say the word,” Devon said earnestly. “One of us will come and get you. Maybe all of us will come and drag you back here for the party.”
I shook off my negative thoughts and smiled at my family, knowing my cousins would happily fly to San Diego in one of their private jets to drag me back to Montana for Aunt Millie’s annual event. Considering their vast financial resources, it would be a pretty easy task for them.
My cousins hadn’t grown up with private jets and helicopters at their disposal, but they’d been outrageously wealthy for years now. I should probably be used to their billionaire lifestyle, but I wasn’t.
It was still hard to believe that the guys I’d always seen as annoying older brothers were worshipped like gods in the business world.
“I said I’d think about it,” I reminded them firmly, not completely certain that I was ready to go back home, even for a visit.
Tanner grinned. “You know that’s as good as a yes to us.”
Kaleb, Devon, and my aunt nodded eagerly in agreement.
God, they looked so hopeful that it made me want to cry.
That was the moment I knew I was going to end up going to Montana for the annual picnic.
The event was important to my Aunt Millie, and it was a tradition for many people in my hometown.
There was no way I could disappoint the only family I had, and I had to rip the Band-Aid off those Montana wounds sooner or later.
Everyone who mattered to me still lived there.
“You’re all impossible to argue with,” I accused lightheartedly.
“We’d never know that you feel that way,” Kaleb teased. “You’re stubborn enough to argue with us all the time. You just don’t win all that often.”
“Because you all gang up on me,” I complained with a laugh. “Well, except for Aunt Millie. She always tries not to takes sides.”
“That’s not why we always win,” Kaleb said drily. “It’s because you’re much too sweet to not forgive all of us before we really deserve it.”
My aunt sent me a loving smile as she said, “We’ve all missed you so much, Shelby. It will be nice to have you here again. You have no idea how lovely it will be to see your face in person instead of on a screen.”
I swallowed hard, trying to clear the lump in my throat.
She had no idea how much I wanted to see their faces again in person, too, or how much I looked forward to a very big and familiar hug from all of them.
Even though I was finally making some friends in San Diego, it had been way too long since I’d felt like I was home and surrounded by people who loved me.
Shelby
“I think you just made enough food to feed an entire army,” Tori Montgomery commented as I put the things I’d just prepared for a tomato roasted mac and cheese dish into the oven. “Now sit and have a glass of wine with me, Shelby. Just watching you makes me tired. All I did was chop a few things and pull ingredients out. I have no idea how you think of such creative side dishes. If you weren’t here, the meat would be tossed on the grill without those fancy marinades and sauces. I would have thrown some corn and potatoes on the grill with the meat, opened canned baked beans and called it dinner.”
I turned and smiled at Tori as she took a seat at her kitchen island and downed a sip of her wine.
I was done with all of the prep for the barbecue, so I joined her at the island, picking up the glass of wine she’d poured for me a few minutes ago.
Nothing I’d done in the last hour had been a chore for me.
Making food for less than ten people was pretty much a breeze compared to the work I’d done in the past as a chef.
I shrugged. “I like feeding people well.”
Tori snorted. “And we love eating the food you make, but I didn’t invite you here to work.”
I knew that.
It had been me who had suggested that I do some prep and make some side dishes and sauces I’d been working on.
“It wasn’t really all that much work,” I explained after I swallowed some wine. “Cooking isn’t just work for me. Creating new dishes is a hobby. You know that food is my passion, and it’s not like we’re feeding a massive crowd of people. You also have an amazing kitchen that makes it fun to cook.”
Torie Montgomery lived in a gorgeous, waterfront mansion in La Jolla, a place I could only imagine owning in my wildest dreams.
Torie lifted a brow as she gave me a thoughtful glance. “Then maybe you need a few new hobbies. I don’t mind cooking sometimes, but I’ll never be as comfortable or as happy as you are in a kitchen. At least we have our love of hiking and the outdoors in common. What else do you do for fun when you’re not cooking? Do you still miss Montana?”
I sighed. “Mostly, I think I just miss being closer to my family. And having a horse available when I want to ride. It’s hard to compare living in Montana to San Diego. They have different advantages and disadvantages. I doubt I’ll ever get used to not having cold weather or snow at Christmas or the view of the night sky that you can only get in Montana. But there are good things about not being stuck indoors all winter because of the brutal weather. There’s also a lot more opportunity here for me in my profession.”
“Have you ever thought about opening your own restaurant?” she asked curiously.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, reminding myself that I was trying to forget the mistakes I’d made in the past.
I’d tried hard not to ruminate about all of my failures, but I wasn’t quite there yet.
“Been there, done that,” I confessed. “It didn’t work out. I think I much prefer experimenting with recipes and blogging about the results. With all of the work for catering available here, I can manage to make a decent living without working fifteen hour days every single day like I did when I had my own restaurant.
I’d opened up a lot to Tori, but there were things she still didn’t know. Not because I didn’t trust her, but because there were things I just didn’t talk about with anyone. Most of them were a painful part of my history that I really wanted to forget.
Maybe I still believed in being positive, but I didn’t exactly look at the world through rose-colored glasses anymore because I’d been burnt pretty badly by past events.
I couldn’t be the same woman I’d been back when I’d started my own restaurant in Montana, and maybe it was better that I wasn’t the same person. I’d been blissfully idealistic and ignorant.