Brock's Bunny by Jane Wakely Page B

and opened the place even though everyone except his
sister, Candace, had discouraged him. He was too young, too inexperienced and
too poor, they’d said. Those things were true, but he was also smart, driven
and business savvy.
    Brock
knew he would succeed.
    He came
from a family of culinary specialists. Both parents had been chefs in five star
restaurants in Las Vegas before moving the four of them to Chestnut Rock after his
senior year of high school. He and Candace wanted to follow their parent’s
footsteps and attend the same culinary school, so they’d moved to the Pacific
Northwest and settled in Chestnut Rock.
    Brock had
enjoyed the business classes more than the culinary, and refocused his goals.
He loved cooking, but he loved managing more. He’d had a five year plan that
included a chain of family restaurants with his family name on them.
    Unfortunately,
plans had a way of changing.
    The day
he’d graduated from college, his parents had an accident on the way to his
celebratory dinner. They both died instantly and left Brock to care for
Candace. She was twenty, only two years younger than him, but he didn’t want
her to throw her life away. He wanted her to finish school and follow her
dreams.
    Several
of his parent’s local friends stepped forward and let him work with them,
cooking and managing, gaining experience to open his own restaurant. They ultimately
discouraged him, but not because he didn’t have the skills. They wanted to
protect him. It was tough for a business to succeed in this new economy,
especially in an unpopular mid-size town. Brock understood their apprehension,
but he had to try anyway. He was glad he did.
    Brock always
walked the dining room, gauging customer’s reactions to the atmosphere and
food. Sometimes he would clear dishes or talk to patrons, asking about their
visit.
    A
raised voice brought his attention to a booth in the middle of the room and he
walked over to check on the couple.
    At the
sound if his greeting, the man looked up and smiled. His grin reminded Brock of
a hyena and he wondered what the man would try and take from him.
    “Everything
is great, Mr. Smith, just great. You’ve done great for yourself, this is my favorite place to eat.”
    “Thank
you,” Brock turned from him to the woman. “Can I get you anything while you
wait for your dinner?”
    Their
eyes met and time seemed to stop. Violet eyes stared back at him from a petite
face surrounded by platinum blond hair. Not many could pull off the look, and
though he was sure her hair and eye color were fake, he wanted them to be real.
Her beauty was unmatched in the crowded room and he wanted to scoop her up and
hide her away for protection.
    “No,
thank you, but why don’t you have any vegetarian dishes on your menu?”
    “Vegetarian dishes?”
    “Don’t
mind her, Mr. Smith, she’s one of those health nuts.” Her
date glared at her and through tight lips, said, “Shut-up, Hollie .”
    Why was
she with this piece of slime? Brock’s anger grew and he laughed.
    “This
is a steakhouse.” One look in her direction and he knew it was the wrong thing
to say. He cleared his throat, forced himself to stop laughing, and tried
again. “Truthfully, a vegetarian dish never crossed my mind and no one has ever
asked for one before.”
    “Well,
now someone is asking. I’m not the only “health nut” in Chestnut Rock.” She kept
her eyes on him and he saw anger and something else. Pain. He’d unintentionally hurt her and it affected him more than it should. He
didn’t know her, would probably never see her again, but her pain made him
uneasy.
    “No, of
course you’re not,” he said at the same time she stood, causing him to back up
and get out of her way.
    “Good
night, Ronald. Don’t ever call me.” She looked at her date and whispered the
words. Then she turned her attention to him. “Excuse me.” Her voice broke on
the last two words, but why? Why was she so upset?
    Brock stepped
out of her way