Feeding Her, page 10
part #1 of LeClarks Series
“That you were trying to fucking ruin me.” Basil’s voice rose and broke, attracting the attention of the front desk attendant and the discrete security guard.
“Who did you hear that from?”
“The bank for one thing. Apparently, James Investments now owns my restaurant and is responsible for my new rent. And then I talked to some well-informed sources who traced the rumors about roaches and food poisoning back to Simone Dexter, and everyone knows that bitch is your friend.”
Landon was impressed. “You should become a detective now that your restaurant is on death row, Basil. Really, I’m impressed.”
“I called your lowlife business partner, Carter, and do you know what he said?” Basil’s face was bright red now, and Landon almost grinned in anticipation. “He told me that this will teach me not to drive like an asshole.”
Landon struggled to keep from laughing out loud. “You must have pissed him off,” he said gravely. “Carter is prone to road rage.”
“I don’t drive,” Basil hissed. “So this has nothing to do with road rage.”
Landon held his breath, wondering if Basil had even managed to trace the cause, but Basil looked as baffled as he did enraged.
“So what did I do to you, James?” he spat. “What is it really?”
“You hurt someone,” Landon said evenly. “Probably a lot of people. And I’m no choir boy, but you brought this on yourself, you piece of shit.”
He could have gone on, but just then his cell phone rang and he looked down to see Ben’s number on the Caller ID. “Sorry, Basil,” he said, cutting off the stream of profanity directed at him. “My helicopter is ready.”
“Don’t walk away from me, James!”
On his way to the elevator, Landon heard the security guard intercept Basil.
“You can’t go up there, sir,” the man said evenly.
“I’ll go wherever I fucking want,” Basil snapped, and then there was a brief scuffle before Landon heard him being unceremoniously removed from the lobby.
Only then did he let himself laugh.
Kaitlyn spent a long, twitchy week in the city. For the first few days, she expected to see Landon around every corner. Then, she started wondering what the hell had happened to him. They’d practically had sex on that divan, and now he couldn’t even call?
“He’s probably had sex on divans in the middle of book launch parties,” she said bitterly to Marjorie. “It’s probably like, a Tuesday night for him.”
“That’s a really specific Tuesday night routine,” Marjorie said mildly, leaning in close to her large Mac screen and adjusting the shadow on a photograph. “What do you think he does if there isn’t a book launch party on a Tuesday? Or a divan, for that matter?”
“Then he switches to a bench in Central Park,” Kaitlyn snapped. “Don’t take me literally. The point is, clearly it didn’t mean anything to him.”
“I doubt that.” Marjorie didn’t want to ignore her friend, but it was hard not to look up and say: He’s obsessed with you, dummy. Can’t you see it? “Why don’t you call him?” she suggested.
“No.” Kaitlyn dismissed that idea immediately. “I’m not calling him. That would make him think he’s won. That it’s okay to seduce me any time he wants.”
Marjorie stifled a laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone use the word ‘seduce’ in real life. Have you been reading trashy romance novels again?”
“You know what I mean. Kiss me like that. Paw at me.”
Finally, Marjorie looked up. “Kait, be honest for a second. Isn’t it okay? I mean, you kissed him back, right? When he had my dress around your waist, where were your hands?”
Pulling his shirt from his waistband. Kaitlyn shook her head to clear the memory. “I was seduced,” she muttered. “It means I’m not accountable for my actions.”
“You’re an adult,” Marjorie reminded her. “So you are. And you can’t have it both ways. Either he crossed the line, and you want nothing to do with him; or you were just as into it as he was, and you want him to call you.”
Kaitlyn pondered this. “How do I know which it is?”
Marjorie sighed. “Do you want him to call you?”
Kaitlyn nodded reluctantly.
“Then it’s option B. Which means you should call him.” When Kaitlyn remained silent, Marjorie prodded, “So are you going to?”
“No.”
Marjorie threw up her hands. “Fine. You’ll see him back in New Canton tomorrow anyway.”
Oblivious to the turmoil simmering in New York, Gray was having his own trouble. Finding a good pastry chef was proving impossible. Two applicants didn’t even know how to prepare pastry cream.
“But I’m great at following a recipe,” one assured him.
He was starting to wonder if he’d even be able to find one. It required technical baking skills and a creative eye—something there was plenty of in large cities, but New Canton was hardly a culinary Mecca.
“There has to be some old grandma who can make a mean macaroon,” Landon said when he got back to town and Gray told him about the trouble. “Or can you teach someone?”
Gray sighed, “The problem is, none of the old grandmas around here need jobs. And macaroons aren’t exactly my specialty either.”
“Seriously. Get a few of the old biddies,” Landon advised. “Get them to teach some young ones. They don’t even have to cook on the premises if transportation is an issue.”
“If you think it will work, I’ll try it.”
But the next person who came in for an interview was as far from an old biddie as Gray had ever seen. Landon looked equally surprised when Ana Monroe walked in, her resume in hand.
“You said she came from New Canton Retirement,” Gray murmured, taking in the slim blond who couldn’t have been a day over thirty.
Clearly overhearing them, she turned her large blue eyes to him and said, “I said I saw the ad at New Canton Retirement.” She brandished it at them now. “It didn’t say there was a minimum age requirement.” She frowned. “I’m not sure it’s legal if there is.”
“Anything is legal with the right lawyers,” Landon assured her.
“But,” Gray added hastily, “there isn’t an age requirement. We just assumed.”
“Oh,” she paused. “You know what they say about assumptions.”
“No,” Landon said pleasantly. “What do they say?”
Ana considered him for a long moment, and then thought better of explaining. “So is the job still open or did Thelma from assisted-living beat me to it?”
“It’s still open,” Gray said, and gestured toward the far booth where they’d been conducting interviews. “Please, sit down. Can I get you anything to drink?”
Gray got them all a round of sodas and came back to find Ana and Landon in a stare off.
“Baking science,” Landon was saying in a tone of patronizing amusement.
“Yes,” Ana said tightly. “With a bread and pastry emphasis.”
“That sounds great,” Gray said, and shot Landon a warning look, trying to communicate with his eyes that as long as Ana knew the difference between phyllo dough and puff pastry, she was going to get the job.
He scanned Ana’s resume and frowned. “Where is your previous experience?”
Ana shifted. “I don’t have any.”
“You went to the Kitchen Academy for fun?”
“I went because I like baking,” Ana said. “But I had a job.”
“As what?”
“This and that.”
Landon met Gray’s eyes. “I’m not sure you understand how interviews work, Ana. It makes me wonder if you really had a job.”
More gently, Gray asked, “Can you be more specific?”
Ana blew out her breath and spoke in a rapid monotone. “I was a card girl for the UFC, I did some fashion modeling, I was a briefcase girl on Deal or No Deal—”
“Okay,” Gray surmised. “But no actual baking experience beyond the Kitchen Academy?”
Ana shook her head.
“How about this,” Gray said, coming to a quick decision. “Come back tomorrow around 5. I’ll have the ingredients for chocolate eclairs. If you can make them, you’re hired.”
“If you can make them edible,” Landon stipulated.
“They’re going to blow your mind,” Ana said, and stood up. She held her hand out for Gray’s and shook it firmly. “It’s a deal.”
“Or no deal,” Landon couldn’t resist saying.
On their first day back in New Canton, Kaitlyn and Marjorie spent the majority of the day at Gray’s apartment, taking advantage of the beautiful quartz countertops for the food prep photography.
“I can’t believe you let us waste time in the kitchen when you had this palace up your sleeve,” Marjorie said, spreading her arms from one end of the island to the other in a one-sided embrace.
“It’s Landon’s palace,” Kaitlyn reminded her, putting the grocery bags full of ingredients on the opposite counter. “And I’m warning you, working the coffee maker requires a degree in mechanical engineering.”
Coming up from the island, Marjorie walked first to the large picture window, then into the bedroom. “Wow,” she said. “You gave all this up on principle?”
“You’d have done the same thing.”
Marjorie shrugged. “Maybe.” Then she walked into the bathroom and called, “No, definitely not.” Popping her head out at Kait, she asked, “Can I take a shower here?”
“We have a perfectly good shower, Marjorie!”
“But I’ve never had been in a shower that had a rainfall showerhead,” Marjorie said mournfully. “Like, ever.”
“Tell you what,” Kaitlyn said walking over and pulling her friend out by the arm. “I’ll buy a watering can on our way home tonight and pour it over you.”
“Maybe you should save that move for Landon.” Marjorie laughed and went to work. “If Gray were my type, I’d seduce him just for a chance to use that shower.”
“Isn’t he?” Kait had been secretly hoping that her best friend and brother would fall madly in love, but so far, their energy had been yawn-inducingly platonic. “What’s wrong with him?”
“I just prefer them”—Marjorie thought about it—“brawnier.”
“Brawnier,” Kaitlyn repeated. “Like, the paper towel man?”
“Exactly like the paper towel man.” Marjorie shivered. “That lantern jaw, the plaid shirt, the broad shoulders. God, I’m going to need a shower if we keep talking about this.”
Kaitlyn laughed. “You can’t be serious. Gray might not be a bodybuilder, but his jaw is pretty good. And I’m sure he has a plaid shirt somewhere in his closet.”
“His face is just like yours.” Marjorie pinched her chin playfully. “Classic, elegant, aristocratic even.”
“That’s ironic,” Kaitlyn snorted.
“What I’m saying is, he’s a beautiful man, no doubt about it. But I want someone—”
“On a paper towel.”
“—brawnier.”
“Okay.” Kaitlyn rolled her eyes. “I guess I can’t judge you. I want someone whose family ran mine out of town and who cheats on his supermodel girlfriend.”
“Would we say Simone is his girlfriend?” Marjorie murmured, seeing an opening. “I got the impression they were more good friends who hooked up.”
“Do you bring your hook ups to your hometown to meet your mom?”
“If we were friends foremost and hooking up second, sure.”
“I’d have to be really good friends with someone to leave New York for New Canton for a few weeks,” Kaitlyn said doubtfully.
“Or the sex would have to be really good.” Marjorie wasn’t sure if that was a point for or against Landon, but when she saw Kaitlyn blush a little, she decided it was the right move. She nudged her. “Care to find out and tell me about it?”
“Marjorie!” Kaitlyn pushed her away. “Does food photography always get you this hot?”
“No.” Marjorie began pulling out the ingredients and arranging them on the gorgeous counter. “It was the showerhead.”
Five hours later, Kaitlyn was exhausted from arranging, chopping, dicing, and sautéing. “Let’s head to the restaurant,” she said, cleaning the last knife. “Gray said something about chocolate eclairs.”
Marjorie packed up her equipment while Kait finished dishes, and then they loaded it into Kait’s car. “One more time?” Kait asked the engine when it threatened to not turn over.
“Please,” Marjorie added.
As it sputtered to life, they each patted their respective sides. “Good car,” Kait said.
They’d decided that it was best to stop calling it a piece of junk and treat it like a beloved old pet. “After all,” Kait had said. “It knows it’s not young and pretty anymore, but it probably still wants to be appreciated.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” Marjorie had agreed.
So far, it seemed to be working. The car got them to LeClarks just in time to smell freshly baked eclairs coming out of the oven.
“Good God,” Kait said, inhaling deeply. “I think we’re in heaven.”
She and Marjorie headed for the kitchen, but Gray stopped them. “There’s a line. Go sit over there and wait.”
Landon was in the corner booth—alone, Kait noted—working on his laptop. He looked up at the sound of Gray’s voice, and Kait’s breath caught. She’d forgotten how handsome he was. Not lithely muscled like Gray, or brawny like the paper towel man, but somewhere in between. She expected to see the heat that kindled in her belly reflected in his eyes, but instead, they were opaque. She was getting neither fire nor flint.
“You’re doing recipes,” she said in surprise when they reached him.
Before he could respond, Gray came over with a lovely blonde girl with blue-green eyes and full, pouty lips, a silver tray balanced on one slim arm. Conversation was no longer necessary.
“Finally,” Landon said, pushing his translation work aside. “I thought you might have gone all the way to France to get them.”
The girl made a face at him, and Kaitlyn’s stomach dropped. She didn’t detect a flirtatious note from either of them, but this was a very pretty girl, and from the scent wafting her way, she could bake.
“Okay,” the girl said setting the tray down carefully on the table. “Try them.”
To Kait’s relief, Gray slid into the booth next to Landon. The girl remained standing, hands on her hips.
One by one, each of the four at the booth selected a pastry and bit in.
“Well?” the girl demanded.
“Mind blowing,” Landon said around his second bite.
“Agreed,” Gray said when he’d swallowed. “You have a job, Ana.”
Even though Kait could have eaten the rest of the eclairs by herself, she found herself asking, “Shouldn’t we talk about this, business partner?”
“I agree,” Landon said.
“I’m his business partner, too.”
“What’s the problem?” Ana frowned at her. “You don’t like them?”
“I love them,” Kait admitted.
“Then what is it? I’m not old enough?”
“What?” Kait squinted at her, confused. Was she underage? No, she had to be in her late 20s, early 30s. “I don’t care how old you are.”
“Then what?” Ana waited expectantly.
“It’s just...” You’re too pretty! Your hair looks like butterscotch, your skin is vanilla ice cream, and you bake like an angel. “...nothing,” Kaitlyn conceded. “You’re hired.”
Ana felt like a missing piece that, once found, made everything fall into place. Before Kait knew it, the restaurant was ready, the menu was set, the staff was trained, and they had a date for their soft opening.
“Come outside,” Gray called to her two evenings before they were set to open. Kait came out to find him standing by the old wooden LeClarks sign. It had been in the storage unit all along.
Seeing him looking so much like their father, standing next to the sign their ancestors had hand carved, brought tears to her eyes.
“I know,” Gray said, pulling her against his side in a one-armed hug. “It’s perfect, isn’t it?”
“We did it,” Kait said, wiping her eyes. “What do you think Mom and Dad would think?”
“They’d love it. LeClarks belongs in New Canton.”
Kait wasn’t entirely sure she agreed, but seeing the old Baratellis completely become the new LeClarks did warm some part of her soul she didn’t know had gone cold. After admiring it for a few more minutes with Gray, she went inside to find Marjorie.
“Mar, come take a picture,” she said, finding her at a booth with Landon and Ana. All three trailed out.
“Nice,” Ana said, clearly not seeing what all the fuss was about. After giving Kait’s teary eyes one last curious look, she went back inside.
While Marjorie set up her camera, Kait eyed Landon. He had been remote for the last week and a half. She’d never seen him like that. As a teenager, he’d been entitled and rebellious until he became a fixture in their family. Then he’d been like a big brother, teasing and indifferent in turns. As an adult, she’d seen him as an enemy, an interloper, and then a combatant of another type. Now, he just seemed...distant. To her surprise, that was worse. She longed for him to give her another one of his sideways glances, to insist on driving her home, or better yet, to grab her by the waist in the kitchen.
Now, she went over to him where he was studying the sign. “What do you think?”
It was the first time she’d initiated conversation with him, but he didn’t look surprised to see her at his side.
“It finally looks like it should,” he said after a moment. “It’ll never be the same as the old LeClarks, but it looks right.”
It was the perfect opening for Kaitlyn to make a snarky remark about Rathskeller, but instead, she nodded. “I agree.”
“Kait,” Marjorie called. “Come stand by the sign with Gray.”
Kait started forward, then turned back to Landon awkwardly. “Should you—I mean, do you want to be in the picture?”
