Page 89 of The Orchard at Rosevale
Cruz couldn’t fault her logic, but after all she’d been through, he hoped his mum wasn’t settling again. ‘I’m not a romantic and far too cynical for my age, Mum, but do you think you might be considering such a momentous step because you’re craving security again?’
She shook her head. ‘Taj is so much more than security to me. Not many people get a second chance with their first love, and while I don’t believe in fate, having him reappear in my life at a time when I’m ready to move on is too good an opportunity to pass up.’ She became animated as she talked about Taj, her eyes lighting up in a way he’d never seen her around his father. ‘Though all this could be moot after the way I hurt him. Not my finest moment.’
‘We all make mistakes, Mum.’
‘None that can’t be rectified, hopefully.’ She hesitated, before saying, ‘I think I’ll see Roger while I’m here.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he must be grieving. You and I aren’t. Am I right?’
He nodded. ‘I’m not a hypocrite and can’t pretend to care that a man I hardly knew is dead.’
‘Exactly. But I assume, from what you told me, that not only is Roger grieving, but he’s probably harbouring guilt at what he did to our family, and I want to reassure him that we’re okay.’
‘Are you going to mention Jesse?’
‘No. The poor man is suffering enough.’ She shrugged. ‘Besides, Roger isn’t the man I’m mad at. That honour belongs to your father.’
His mother’s answer to his next question wouldn’t change anything, but he had to know. ‘Did you have any inkling?’
‘None. Then again, even if I’d had any suspicion, I probably would’ve ignored it because I didn’t care enough about him. Does that make me a bad person?’
‘No, because we make the best of a situation.’ Cruz moved around the island bench to clasp her hands. ‘I’m just glad you get a chance to start fresh. And you’re right, if you have the smallest chance at happiness, you should grab it.’
Tears shimmered in her eyes and she blinked them away. ‘Speaking about happiness, I’m sure I didn’t imagine the spark between you and Elora before I left. How is she?’
‘Gone.’ He released Ferne’s hands and retreated behind the island bench again. ‘She’s back in Melbourne, working remotely on the restaurant campaign.’
‘You hired her for that too?’
‘Yeah, she did a great job promoting the farm.’
‘Even with that viral video you must’ve hated?’
‘That video has propelled us into the black, with a healthy profit margin for the year ahead, so yeah, I was okay with it once I calmed down.’
‘And nothing romantic happened between you?’
Cruz had no intention of playing twenty questions with his mum. He missed El enough without rehashing every reason why.
‘It’s called a private life for a reason, Mum.’ He made a zipping motion over his lips. ‘Now, as much as I’ve loved our chat, I’ve got a pop-up restaurant soft launch in three days and I’m swamped.’
‘Noted,’ she said, but he didn’t trust the gleam in her eyes. ‘Just let me know what you want me to do and I’ll get out of your way.’
Grateful to have her here despite his fierce independent streak, Cruz outlined the tasks Ferne could help with. The soft launch would be a good way to get a feel for how things would operate without the pressure of paying customers. He’d invited Kyle, Thommo, Robbo and Bindi—he initially thought she’d be serving as practice for when they opened, but decided she needed a treat—and a few others. He’d toyed with inviting Roger, too, and would mention it to his mum before she caught up with him.
There would be eleven guests and he could easily serve that many without the need for a waitress. He planned on having a buffet-style meal, where the guests could help themselves to entrees, mains and desserts. Low key and simple, because ultimately, he wanted their feedback about taste and portions, and anything he could improve on.
He hadn’t been this excited about cooking in a long time and he had El to thank for it.
Which is why he hoped the twelfth seat at the table would be filled, but the likelihood of that would be as remote as him earning a Michelin star.
CHAPTER
48
Since she’d been back in Melbourne, Elora had established a new routine. Up at six, a thirty-minute jog followed by a shower and a latte as she settled in front of her computer to respond to requests for quotes and urgent emails. She reserved the rest of the morning and afternoon for the creative stuff and scheduling posts for her clients, with evenings spent in front of the TV, eating a healthy, microwaved meal, and sipping a chamomile tea.
