Curvy Nanny for the Nerd

1. Ryan

Chapter 1

Ryan

~ O ne Month Ago

I looked around my hometown after being away on tour for the past ten months, and smiled. Carson Creek was as small town as small towns came, complete with a Main Street lined with big red oaks, wooden sidewalks and American flags flowing in the wind on every business. Colorful awnings, sale signs, and people actually chatting with their neighbors.

Carson Creek was home. Had been since the day I was born and no matter how far I traveled, what I had experienced on the road, it would always be home. Home. The word took on new meaning when you spent most of the year touring the country, and the world. Things that used to bother me, the gossip, the way everyone was all up in everyone else’s business, the lack of secrets and late night delivery, suddenly seemed charming. Even endearing.

That’s why I did what I did. I had taken a step to ensure that my stay in Carson Creek would be permanent. I bought a restaurant. What in the hell did I know about restaurants? Nothing at all. I was a simple man who preferred burgers and fries, steak and potatoes to things like sushi and fine wine. But I was a quick study, had learned to play the guitar on my own as well as the piano, and became a pretty good songwriter without any professional training.

Most of all, I had time. The tour would be over soon, which meant I could focus on writing the next album and learning the ins and outs of running a successful restaurant.

I maneuvered the car to the dead end street that led to the Old Country House property where my restaurant was located. The long driveway was reminiscent of those big old properties where generations of families lived at the same time, except this was an oversized events’ venue, which provided the restaurant with guaranteed business. From a business perspective it was a smart move to make, and my name recognition would—hopefully—help increase bookings.

It was just how Carson Creek worked, everyone chipped in to help out everyone else.

Damn, it’s good to be home.

The long entrance split into three roads, the one on the left led to Dark Horse, the restaurant was named after the first song I wrote that went double platinum. It was my biggest achievement at the time, considering Derek was the lead singer and Roman was the showman. It was still my pride and joy, played at bars all over the world, drunk patrons singing along with my lyrics about being underestimated by a love interest.

And now it was a living breathing thing. A place that was just mine, not The Gregory Brothers.

I stepped from my Jeep that was older than dirt, and smiled at the sight of Mayor Carson, arms folded but smiling broadly. “Ryan Gregory. Good to see you.” He extended a hand to me and I accepted it with a grin of my own.

“Still weird that you’re the mayor, but it’s good to see you too, Chase.” I still remembered him as my girlfriend’s pipsqueak little brother with his nose stuck in a book.

“It’s my third term, Ryan, about time you got used to it. Especially now that you’re a business owner.” He nodded over his shoulder to the brick building with Dark Horse scrawled across the front, complete with a Stetson wearing stallion as the logo, even though I was no damn cowboy.

“Third term, huh? Good for you.”

Chase rolled his eyes. “You donated to my campaign, Ryan.”

“Me? Can’t be true.” I shrugged it off because the kid was good at his job. I didn’t spend much time in Carson Creek these days, but the gossip still managed to reach me.

“How’s it feel to be back in town? You’ve been gone a while this time.”

I nodded, acknowledging the truth of his words. “Been too long if you ask me, but this tour is major for us.” After so long in the game, it was a gift to be so popular, to adjust to the digital age of music and streaming, after two decades in the business. “Feels strange, but good to be back, which pretty much sums up life in Carson Creek.” It was always an odd mix of relief to be someplace familiar, and anxiety about being around people who knew everything about you.

Chase laughed and shook his head. “A sentiment I understand completely.” He clapped me on the back and there it was, that sense of relief that came whenever Chase was kind to me. Civil. His sister hadn’t forgiven me for leaving to pursue my dreams. Still.

“I’m excited to come back for an extended stay once the tour is over, though.”

The sound of heels clacking behind me drew my attention to Margo Blanchard-Devereaux, the owner of The Old Country House, the business and the actual house. She wore a pale pink suit with matching heels, walking at a fast clip as if she was always in a hurry.

“Ryan. Mayor. Sorry I’m late, I had a panicking bride to deal with.” Type A to the core, Margot smoothed over her pristine clothes and hair with a sigh. “Good to have you back, Ryan.”

“Temporarily,” I added with a smile for an old friend.

She flashed a proud smile, the one I’d gotten used to over the years as the whole town took pride in the success of the wild Gregory brothers. “How’s the tour going? I read somewhere that the last two weeks sold out in just minutes.”

“Yeah, the crowds have been amazing.” It’s not that I was uncomfortable talking about my work, my songs and music, but touring was part of the job. Enjoyable for the fans who came to hear the live version, to sing along and have a good time. Ticket sales was for the studio to worry about.

The conversation fell flat, and Margot, never one to endure awkward silences, clapped her hands briskly. “I’m excited to see the inside of this place. Your assistant has been very tight-lipped,” she added with a frown. “Very.”

I laughed. “Devon is efficient and loyal.” My assistant didn’t do anything he didn’t want to unless it was about protecting my image and privacy, and I’d given explicit instructions that I wanted to see the finished product first.

“Yes, well, he is that,” she added haughtily and looked up at the restaurant sign with a frown. “I still wish you would have chosen a different name. One that’s more customer friendly.”

I sighed, wondering if the built-in business would be worth the hassle of Margot’s constant needling. The woman had to have everything her way or she fell apart, but this was my baby. My business. “I can always find another location so you won’t have to see such an eyesore, Margot.”

She blinked in shock, eyes growing round at my harsh words because everyone in town went out of their way to be polite, even when it wasn’t warranted. Recovering quickly, Margot brushed off my words with a smile. “Just some friendly advice.”

“From your long tenure in the restaurant business?”

Margot was saved from scrambling for an explanation when the doors of Dark Horse opened and Devon appeared, with a welcoming smile for everyone except Margot. “Looks like we have a crowd.” His questioning gaze slid to mine, and I knew he was wondering if this group counted as me laying eyes on the restaurant first.

“It’s fine,” I assured him with a sigh. I wanted time to look at the place on my own, to give it a thorough examination so I could sit with it, figure out if it was what I wanted for my first foray into real world investments. “Input is always welcome. So is word of mouth promotions,” I added with a grin.

Satisfied, Devon nodded and took a step back to wave us all inside. He hung back and fell into step beside me. “I’ve hired an amazing chef who is the perfect blend of modern fine dining and southern home cooking. She’s from Knoxville, but trained in New York and Italy. She’s also provided me with a mile-long list of kitchen staff.” Devon nodded to the stack of papers on the bar. “I’ve got more applications than I can handle, which brings me to the most important hiring decision. Front of House manager.”

I paused and quirked a smile at him. “More important than the chef?”

Devon shrugged. “Good food doesn’t matter if the service is crappy or there aren’t enough waitresses to meet demand.”

“Good point.” One I hadn’t thought about. “What do you need from me?”

Devon froze and stared at me like I’d grown a third eye. “This person will have to be someone you trust, someone you can get along with, especially if you plan to stick around for the foreseeable future.”

Oh. Right. “Make sure it’s a local who knows how things work around here. Someone with restaurant experience and someone who won’t just say yes to me even when I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about.”

“Seriously? You want me to hire the person for this position?”

“Why not? You hired the chef.”

“That’s because you wouldn’t know good food if it jumped off the plate and bit you.” His smile softened his harsh, but true, words. “You can sample her cooking if you’re curious.”

“I will, but later though. I trust you.”

“This place is stunning,” Margot practically shouted across the empty dining room.

At her words, I was finally able to give the place my full attention. Devon had done his damnedest to bring my vision to life, and he’d succeeded beyond my wildest dreams. The Dark Horse dining room was a strange mix of old school saloon and modern fine dining with dark wood tables and matching floors, the long bar was a shade darker than the other wood finishes, drawing the eye first. The chairs were heavy with burgundy leather upholstery and decorative wooden studs instead of metal or brass. Dim lighting gave the place a cool, exclusive feel and the fancy wiry chandeliers that hung above each table let you know this was a place where you could expect great food for your money.

“Well? Don’t leave me hanging, boss.”

I smiled at Devon. “I love it.”

“You do?” He looked around and pointed at the mirrored bar stacked six shelves high, the leather stools bolted to the floor in front of the bar. The wildflowers inside small wooden vases in the center of each table. “You love it?”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “I wouldn’t have picked this stuff myself. Hell, I wouldn’t have known to pick it, but it all works. You did a good job, Devon. A really good job.”

His shoulders sank in relief. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“I’m happier to be able to say it.” There was so much that went into opening a restaurant and I didn’t know half of what I needed to, not yet, but I would. As soon as the tour was over and I came home for good. “What are we looking at for opening day?”

“A month or two? First I have to hire a manager and together we’ll have to hire front of house staff, settle the menu and specials. Shouldn’t be too long after you get back.”

I did a double take at his words. “Me? Why do I have to be around for that?”

“Because, Dark Horse, you are the main attraction. People will show up just for a chance to lay eyes on the quietest Gregory brother, and hopefully they’ll stay for a steak, a bottle of whiskey or a three course meal.”

Ah, dammit. “Right.” It was high time I got used to being part of the sideshow. I’d spent my entire career doing it in the background, happy to let Derek and Roman soak up the spotlight. But this business was mine, which meant the song and dance for customers was mine to perform.

It was a small price to pay for a much-needed distraction from the fact that I was getting too old to be on tour nonstop.