many as you’d think. At least not who’d move up to Grace Harbor."
Okay, so a tiny tourist town, even one an hour from Portland, wasn’t for everyone. Still … “There has to be someone. Why Hurst? Why him, of all people?"
He’d leaned in and stared at her with those eyes and she’d almost forgotten how to breathe. This could get interesting. Just thinking of it made her furious.
Just thinking of it made her shiver.
“We hired him because he was recommended by Nathan, for one thing,” her father said, pulling a bowl of potato chips toward himself.
Cady blinked. “Nathan knows him?”
“Well, the chef Nathan works for now does. He told Nathan, Nathan told us."
“He said he hadn’t even been here. What, he couldn’t even be bothered to come interview? He made you go there?"
Her father coughed. “Not exactly.”
“You took him on sight unseen?” she asked incredulously.
“We took him on recommendation. We talked to him by phone, several times. We’d seen him cook on Chef’s Challenge, where he has a winning record, I might add. What more did we need to know?"
“I don’t know, chemistry? See if it feels right?”
“Chemistry?” Ian repeated in amusement. “We don’t want a date, we want a chef. I don’t see the problem. He needs a job and he can give us what we need, which is visibility."
“Or notoriety.”
“You know what they say. There’s no such thing as bad publicity,” Amanda put in mildly as she set the sandwiches down on the table and sat.
“Mom, you know the stories. I mean, he used to throw customers out of his restaurant, for God’s sakes. He gave one of his chefs a black eye. Do you want that happening at the Sextant?"
“Of course not. But he says that’s over. He wants to build something here."
“Sure, until he finds something bigger and better and walks out on his contract.” There was a short silence while her parents suddenly became very interested in their napkins. “You do have him under contract, don’t you?” Cady asked with dawning dismay.
Ian met her eyes. “We thought about it but we decided it was smarter not to. A contract is a double-edged sword, you know. This way if he doesn’t work out, we can walk away."
“You do admit there’s a chance of that, then?”
“Of course we do,” Ian said impatiently. “It’s a calculated risk."
“I agree with the risk part.”
“No matter what, we’ll get a lot of exposure from him. People know Damon Hurst. They’ll want to know why he’s here. They’ll come to see if he’s still got the magic. I mean, think of it, even you’ve heard of him and you barely pick up a paper or turn on the TV."
“Cable’s too expensive,” she muttered, moving to sit at the table with them.
“Our occupancy is down. It has been for the past two years. We need to get publicity and we can’t afford ads right now.” Ian picked up his sandwich. “Hurst’s our answer. We send out a few press releases, maybe get a review or two in the papers or magazines."
And start a media feeding frenzy. “That publicity’s not going to be worth much if your line staff quits and your diners start staying away."
“I think that’s unlikely.”
“I don’t trust him.” Cady reached out for a chip. “Why would a guy like him come all the way up here to work? You know the stories—he dates fashion models and pop tarts. I can’t imagine Grace Harbor’s going to thrill him.”
“Maybe he’s grown up. It can happen, you know.” Amanda gave her a bland look.
“All right, all right, I get the point,” Cady grumbled. “But he’s got to be costing you a fortune."
“Not as much as you’d think. We’ve caught him at a good time. And he’s got big plans for the Sextant."
“For now, anyway.” Then again, as much as she desperately wanted her parents’ inn to succeed, Damon Hurst couldn’t be gone soon enough for her peace of mind.
“We need him, Cady.” For once, there was no humor in her father’s voice. “We’re in a deep hole. We need all the bounce we can get from him and if you don’t trust him you’d better hope that you’re wrong and Nathan and Descour are right. We need you to do everything you possibly can to make this work."
“But—”
“We’re not asking you to marry the man, just keep a civil tongue in your head,” Ian shot back, temporarily silencing her. “If you can’t do that much, then just stay away."
Cady looked at them both and sighed. “Of course I’ll help however I can. I think you’re both nuts but if Damon Hurst is what you want, Damon Hurst is what you’ll get. God help you,” she added.
“Tell me again why having a gorgeous man who’s a fabulous chef and a celebrity working at your parents’ restaurant is a bad thing?” Cady’s best friend since childhood, Tania Martin, peered at her from the other end of the couch.
Cady scowled and scooped up some sesame chicken from one of the myriad takeout containers that littered the crates-and-boards combination that could charitably be called her coffee table. It was their weekly movie/gossip/junk food night, or at least Tania’s.
Cady believed in eating junk food as often as possible.
In a crowded room, nobody would ever have picked the two of them to be friends. Unlike tomboy Cady, who pretty well lived in jeans and a T-shirt, Tania kept on the cutting edge of hip with her black spiky hair and tinkling silver jewelry and her scarlet—or sometimes blue—nails and lips. They’d known each other since second grade and were as close as sisters.
“Why is Damon Hurst a bad thing?” Cady repeated, sprinkling soy sauce over her chicken with a free hand. “He’s irresponsible. He’s temperamental. He got fired from his TV show and from his restaurant for not taking care of business. He makes scenes. You, of all people, should know because you’re the one who told me about all of it."
“Besides all that.” Tania crunched into an egg roll.
“Besides … Tania, the guy got caught boinking one of his customers in his office—by the woman’s husband. You want to tell me again how you think him being here could in any way be a good idea?"
“Okay, so he has some rough edges,” Tania allowed, forking up some fried rice. “Anyway, that boinking story was from years ago. Maybe he’s past it by now."
“God help us if he’s not.” Cady squeezed a dollop of hot mustard out of its packet and swabbed her egg roll in it.
Tania watched her a minute. “Do you know
