Who's the Boss? - Erin McCarthy Page 0,58
totally stole everything on it.”
“What? Are you kidding me?” I was actually shocked. “That is such a dick move.”
“I can’t decide what to do. Anything? Nothing? I can’t stand the idea of him just getting away with this but I have no clue what to do to fix it. I can’t exactly storm into Woodstock and accuse him of being a menu thief.”
“Yeah, that would be a bad idea.” Though I was a little surprised she wasn’t planning to do that. Isla was a bit of a hothead. “Do you have proof that it was your idea?”
“Yes, I have emails and texts between us.”
Tapping my thumbs on the steering wheel, I thought about it for a second. There wasn’t much in the way of legal recourse. But I agreed with her– he shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this. “I think we do the exact same menu. But better. You and I can cook circles around him.”
“What? Seriously? Won’t that be… bonkers?”
“Bonkers? I can tell you lived with your grandfather.”
Isla laughed. “Shut up. I think I actually picked it up from Felicia. But I’m serious. Everyone will notice.”
“That’s the point. Who would be bold enough to be the copycat? It will get people talking. Woodstock will either change their menu or they'll just lose to us.”
“I don’t know. That seems like a huge risk. We could look like the copycats. I don’t know how Sid would feel about that.”
“We have some time to think about it. But you’re right, he shouldn’t be allowed to do this to you. It’s total bullshit.”
“I would just beat him up but I like his family.”
I glanced at Isla. “You would beat him up? Did you take boxing lessons along with guitar lessons?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
Jesus. “Don’t piss you off. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Oh, I think that goes without saying.”
It did. “I told you the first time we met you don’t scare me.” Not in that way, at any rate.
Nope. She scared me in the sense that damn, I could really fall hard for Isla.
And then what?
I had no clue.
The drive to Saugerties went by fast. Sean and I had easy conversation the entire way. I wouldn’t have expected we had as much in common as we did, but he’d talked about his grandmother being pivotal in his life. About his passion for food.
“I left that part out,” he said. “When I told you about getting sick of takeout. My grandmother was the only one in our family that cooked and after she died, I was angry at myself for not learning in her kitchen. So I started as a homage to her and then found out how much I liked it. How I could express myself creatively through food.”
“I definitely understand that.” It told me a lot more about Sean. I realized I had pre-judged him, mostly based on his attitude in the elevator, which had been because he was claustrophobic. He hadn’t exactly put his best foot forward but I had held him to those eight minutes and that wasn’t entirely fair. Right from the beginning at Bone, he’d made an effort to reach out and try and include me and Martin.
Not that I wanted to think about Martin and get myself all worked up again.
“This town is adorable. It reminds me of where I grew up in Jersey.” It made my heart ache, actually, if I were honest. The drive in was all trees and the expanse of the Hudson River, with an impressive lighthouse. Then the downtown area was brick buildings of various heights and paint colors dotting the street. Most of the windows had eyebrow arches, detailing that added to the charming appearance of the town.
Most of the time I stuffed down my feelings about my childhood, which wasn’t particularly healthy. But when people asked where I was from I always said New York. Which I was, after the age of fifteen. I hadn’t lived anywhere else in thirteen years. But before that I was a small-town girl.
“I used to spend summers here. My parents wanted to escape the heat in the city and would come down on the weekends but they left me here with my grandmother full-time.”
Sean pulled into a parking spot downtown and put the car in park.
“With your siblings?” I asked. “I’m jealous. Sometimes it really sucked being an only child. Especially in the summer when my friends would go on vacations.”
“My siblings never came. Michael was always sent to fancy camps