Page 152 of Renegade Rift
“I do too,” I admit, softly.
A few of the guys let loose a whoop and cheer, even though they don’t quite understand the weight of her name change.
“It was time,” Juliet says, looking up at me with happy brown eyes sparkling under the stadium lights. “From now on, life is whatwemake of it.”
I press a kiss to her lips and smile. “Well then, Juliet my love, let’s make it the best.”
EPILOGUE
Julietta
Seven months later
Everything’s perfect.
The restaurant looks amazing, even if it's bare bones at the moment. We’re still waiting on a few of the interior design pieces to complete the modern, harvest-to-table vibe we’ve got going on, but overall, Against the Grain is on its way to being ready for our grand opening after the guys get back from spring training.
Yes. Soph—our Michelin-star leader—went with a freaking gluten-free pun for the name.
Mostly, because she lost a bet to Sydney.
But it grows on you. And the more and more I hear it, the more I love everything it stands for.
Standing up for who we are as gluten-free individuals. No matter what disease or intolerance brought us to this point in life. It’s creating a place where we can grab a bite to eat or celebrate a birthday with family and friends and not have to worry about where our diet will fit into the evening.
Even now, it’s already living up to its name of bringing people together.
My heart swells as I look out from the kitchen at all the people gathered at the long community-style tables and booths that line the walls. It’s a melting pot of family, friends, potential investors, and, of course, the Renegades. They made our menu sampling an official team outing before they head down to Florida for spring training.
And so far, everyone loves the food.
I had an inkling they would, as theDungeons and Dragonsgroup have been my guinea pigs allowing me to test various dishes on them at each session, but it’s every chef’s dream to see the smiles and hear the satisfying moans when people eat your food.
Tonight, little chef heart is bursting.
“I’m proud of you,mijita.”
I snap my head to the swinging door leading to the dining room. The spoon in my hand clatters to the floor when I see the towering form of my dad standing there.
In seconds I’m across the kitchen, wrapping my arms around him. “What are you doing here?” And how the hell did I not know he was coming? I spoke to him yesterday, and he talked me off the ledge of being nervous. “You said it was too much to get away because it’s a busy weekend with the big football game on.”
“Ford arranged everything.” That surprises the hell out of me. Not that Ford would put together a surprise for me like this, but that my dad would go along with it. The two of them haven’t exactly been on the best of terms since they found out I am, in fact, not dead. Not that Ford hasn’t tried charming the pants off him.He has. But in my dad’s eyes Ford kept his little girl from him.
My dad gives me a tight squeeze and steps back. Pride dazzles in his coffee brown eyes, and I’m overcome with emotion. “You didn’t think I’d actually miss your first menu tasting, did you?”
“I’m just happy you’re here.” Tears well in my eyes, and I wipe them away as I look around him out the window in the door. “Is mom here?”
His face falls, and my heart plummets. “She wasn’t ready.”
He doesn’t need to say for what. I already know because she’s told me time and time again—she forgives me and understands why I chose to keep my distance from them. And while we still talk weekly and catch up, she’s angry I won’t move home to be closer to family. Which is why she’s not ready to embrace the life I’ve chosen here in New York.
I can’t discount her feelings, and know she’ll come around eventually, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
But I’m learning that’s life. And that’s okay.
Ford helps me see that every day, but therapy has solidified it. Which is why I still go once a week.
I couldn’t get behind seeing Jolene, not that she wasn’t great, but it felt weird seeing the same therapist as Ford and the rest of the team.
