Chapters (75)
- Cover
- Back Cover Text
- Praise
- Booklist
- About the Author
- Dedication
- Quote
- Prologue
- Part One
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- Part Two
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- Part Three
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- Part Four
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- Part Five
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- Part Six
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- Part Seven
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- Part Eight
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- Part Nine
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- Part Ten
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- Part Eleven
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- Part Twelve
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- Part Thirteen
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- AUTHOR NOTE
- Reader’s Guide
- Questions for Discussion
- The Heirloom Garden
- Abby
“Seriously,” she says. “I’ve hired people who are perfect on paper, or who have told the most compelling stories, even though my gut has told me otherwise.” Trish stops. “You’re smart, Adie Lou. You’ve met lots of people and been through a lot in your life. You can tell who’s full of—well, let’s just say beans—and who’s not.”
She continues. “You’re in a different situation here. You’ll be hiring part-time workers, so many will be coming and going. And you can’t afford to offer health or retirement at this time to anyone.”
“You think?” I ask with more than a hint of sarcasm.
“But let that be a long-term goal perhaps,” Trish says. “You might find an older woman, who is divorced like you, and wants a new start. Or you might find someone who has never gotten a break his or her whole life, and this is the place that provides it. If you find that person, hold on to her. I’ve found workplace loyalty and longevity is key to corporate success and is just as beautiful as lifelong friendships like ours.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“Do you mind if I take a look at your business plan?” Trish asks. “I know a lot about them.”
We head downstairs and into the kitchen, where I pull up Excel on my laptop. Trish pulls up a barstool and hunches over the computer.
“Uh-huh... Okay... I see,” Trish mutters to herself.
“What?” I ask. “What do you see?”
Trish looks at me, her face pained. “You’re not going to break even this year,” she says. “Too much money going out, uncertainty over filling rooms, total budget still in question.”
I groan, as she pulls up the calculator on my laptop. She taps furiously for nearly a minute, jotting notes on a pad of paper I have sitting on the counter.
“But,” Trish continues, “what if I went back to Nate and pushed him on the sale of the Lake Forest home.”
“No,” I say, my voice rising. “I can’t do that. We had an agreement. It’s not fair.”
“Nothing’s fair in love and war,” Trish says. “And divorce is both.”
“He probably did me a favor anyway,” I say. “He just made the inevitable happen a bit more quickly.”