Page 51 of Best Laid Plans (Rock Harbor #1)

“You did a great job the last few weeks,” Mr. Pierce said, his focus staying on the pot in front of him.

Cam dropped his head, still feeling undeserving of someone like Jim Pierce’s praise.

He’d made Pierce’s Lobster Co. a Rock Harbor staple for three decades.

He loved his wife deeply. He’d raised two incredible–albeit stubborn–children.

And now, adding a level of importance to the mix that made Cam feel like this was the second most important conversation of his life, he was the father of the woman who Cam was deeply in love with.

But being worthy of something was about showing up and doing the hard things.

And he wanted to be worthy. For Elle, but also for himself.

“I appreciate you saying that, Mr. Pierce. And these last few weeks have really made me think about the future of Pierce’s, especially with the offer from Heads & Tails.

Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about it, if you have a few minutes. ” Truly, a hat-in-hand moment.

Mr. Pierce dipped the tongs smoothly into the water and plucked out the lobster. “Ah, perfect,” he said, holding it up for Cam to see before placing it to the side to cool. He put the tongs back on their hook and wiped his hands on his apron before gesturing to Cam. “Let’s fry some clams.”

Cam wasn’t exactly sure what was happening, but he watched as Mr. Pierce walked into the refrigerator and brought out a container filled with clams that had been soaking in the milk marinade, slightly pink from the cayenne pepper.

“Grab the batter,” Mr. Pierce directed as he took the lid off the clams.

Cam walked over to one of the large storage racks and pulled down the multi-gallon bucket, usually filled with a combination of flours and spices. In the weeks that Cam had kept things running, he hadn’t needed to refill the tub.

Today, it was empty.

Cam’s ears perked up. He’d been waiting almost twenty years for this. Without being asked, he grabbed the ingredients he already knew were included, placing the various-sized containers on the prep table. Talk about feeling like a kid on Christmas morning.

Mr. Pierce gave him a look before he started speaking. “One part corn flour. One part all-purpose flour. Salt, pepper, and cayenne to taste.” The secret ingredient was still missing, but he knew that all the Pierces loved a good reveal .

“Why now, after all this time?” Cam asked, quickly measuring the ingredients and dumping them into a large mixing bowl.

When Mr. Pierce didn’t respond right away, Cam looked up, proud eyes staring back at him. “Kid, I swear that by the time you were sixteen, I didn’t have anything left to teach you.”

Cam scoffed, even as a pleased warmth spread through him. “That’s not true. I was still using a knife like a machete back then.”

Mr. Pierce laughed. “We both know that isn’t true.

You’ve always had a knack in the kitchen, but it was the amount of effort that you put into it that made you truly great.

I thought to myself so many times over the years, ‘now there’s a kid that can do anything he puts his mind to.

If he wants to be, he’s going to be a great chef one day. ’”

A lump formed in Cam’s throat. He stood in front of the mixing bowl, his voice thick with emotion. “I learned from the best.” And he meant every word. No one had taught him more about the kitchen–or about life–than the man standing across from him.

Mr. Pierce picked up one of the clam strips and began to let the excess liquid drip off. “Fill a shallow container with the batter.”

Doing as he was told, Cam tried to figure out what he was missing. He knew all of these ingredients, had figured out the ratios years ago, even without Mr. Pierce confirming them.

“Elle gave me some paperwork yesterday.”

Cam could hear his pulse pounding in his ears, the desire for Mr. Pierce’s approval so strong that he felt a little sick.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, if it’s a conversation you’re interested in having.

” He was worried that he may freeze up if he stopped, so he kept going.

“I think we came up with a plan that makes sense for my future as well as secures yours. Along with The Pierce Lobster Co. legacy. It’s– ”

Shock and rejection warred for dominance as Mr. Pierce’s loud, boisterous laugh boomed through the small room.

There was a moment where Cam felt like he’d turned inside out, and he wanted nothing more than to get out of the kitchen as quickly as possible, to turn tail and run back to Boston. Away from the rejection. The feeling like he wasn’t good enough.

But then Elle’s face flashed through his mind, of the hours they’d spent in this very kitchen together, as they’d worked through the logistics of his plan. Their plan. He owed it to both of them to see this through. “Mr. Pierce, I understand your decision, but I was hoping–”

Mr. Pierce held his hand up. “Cam, if we’re going to be in business together, I’m going to need you to call me Jim.

And if I’d have ever thought that you were interested in returning to Rock Harbor and running Pierce’s Lobster Co.

, I’d have begged you to come back in a heartbeat.

Just like all my kids, I felt like it was important to let you live your own life.

Chart your own path, if that’s what you wanted.

But I hope you know that I’ve always wanted you here.

You’re a part of this family. This is your legacy, too.

” The moment stretched out between them, as Cam struggled to hold back tears.

One finally fell when Mr. Pierce–Jim–added, “I’m proud of the man you’ve become, Cam. But you need to be, too.”

Cam tried to hide his sniffle at the same time he wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. He didn’t realize how much he’d needed to hear that. How much it meant the way Jim was looking at him right now, like he was so fucking proud of Cam that he could burst.

And for as much as Cam wanted to lean into that feeling–bask in it, really–he still needed to know one thing.

It was positively eating him up inside. “Mr. P–Jim,” he corrected himself quickly, “what is the secret ingredient? If we’re really going to be business partners, that’s all I need on my side to seal the deal. ”

Jim laughed, his eyes shifting down to the clam strip that Cam had just drenched in batter. “It’s in the marinade. A few drops of hot sauce. I’ve tried different ones over the years, but Cholula is my favorite.”

Cam couldn’t even revel in his excitement at finally getting an answer because, “You’ve been letting me serve the wrong food for weeks?”

“Sometimes everything we need is right in front of us. We just have to be willing to see it clearly,” Jim said as he looked over toward the storage rack, where at least half-a-dozen bottles of different hot sauces were lined up in a row.

And… yeah. Jim was right on that one, in so many ways. Everything–everyone–that he needed was right in front of him, a future that he could finally see clearly.

He just needed to make Elle see that she was the most important part of it.