by Jen Peters
Ree stepped back against the wall, admiring Mitch’s control even while his temper was overflowing. She could picture him in court, demanding a judge’s attention and winning his case by force of will.
The not-so-French chef packed his knives, removed his toque, and brushed past Mitch, all without saying another word.
Chris, now washing up, stared after him with mouth agape. “But…who’s going to cook on Sunday?”
Mitch slumped against the counter and shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ll have to find somebody. But I’d rather cancel than have that, that…”
“Creative genius?” Ree suggested. “Mad scientist?”
Mitch lifted an eyebrow wryly. “Yeah, right. But I will never be so desperate as to have him back. I’ll have to make some late phone calls tonight. Maybe we can get someone just for the day." He closed his eyes. “Hmm…perhaps Bernard up at Montlake could spare a chef temporarily. Even a sous chef. And a sous chef might be more willing.”
“What about somebody here?” Ree asked.
“Here? Who can cook around here?”
“Mrs. Cooper can,” Chris said. “She does a mean pork chop and gravy at her place.”
“She does, but that’s home cooking, not what we’re after. We need someone with proper culinary training, someone with the skills to pull something together quickly.”
Ree planted her hands on her hips. “You know, we aren’t complete hicks here. We don’t spend all our time hiking and roasting hot dogs around a bonfire. Why do you think everything has to be imported to be worthwhile?”
Mitch snorted. “Oh come on, Ree. It’s a small town. A town that’s been sliding downhill for forty years. What else should I expect?”
“It may be small, but talented people can come from anywhere,” she shot back. “And we do have somebody who can cook. Billy Cunningham.”
“Billy." Mitch said it dismissively.
“Yeah, Billy!” Chris shouted. “He’s awesome!”
Mitch looked between the two of them. “All right, I’ll cave. Who is Billy Cunningham?”
Ree didn’t even try to keep the smirk off her face. “He lives in Frederick, about forty miles north of here. He was the food nerd at his high school, everyone joked about him until they tasted what he brought to the after-game parties.”
Mitch rubbed a hand over his face. “Ree, we need something more than football snacks. What don’t you understand about this?”
Ree smirked. “And he graduated from the International Culinary Institute down in Napa Valley. He even did the extra training for farm to table cuisine.”
Her smirk turned into a full-on grin as Mitch straightened.
“Where’s he cooking now? Is he available?”
‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe he wants to be somewhere where he’s appreciated.”
“Ree!”
She settled down. “I think he actually might be available. He was sous chef at some place in San Francisco but I heard he was back in town for a bit after they closed.”
Mitch waited.
“Oh, you want me to call him?” she teased.
He took a step forward and leaned his forehead against hers, their noses just touching. “Of course I want you to call him, you silly goose.”
She touched his lips lightly with a fingertip. “I’ll do that right now.” She left a message for Billy, then helped Chris with the final kitchen cleanup while Mitch straightened the tables on the porch.
She was wiping the last counters when Mitch returned and sent Chris home. He wrapped his arms around her from behind. “What say we grab some pizza to fill our empty stomachs?” he murmured against her neck.
She leaned back into him, savoring his closeness. “The way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach, you know. You’re a wise man.”
“That’s me, all right. The wisest of wise men, knowing what his girl needs.”
His girl. The thought tickled her, rising up with a shivery feeling. She tilted her head back and kissed the underside of his jaw. Oh yes, this was right.
“C’mon, let’s go eat.”
Half an hour later, Ree didn’t know whether to be mortified or entranced when Mitch set his own slice of pizza down and pulled a strand of melted mozzarella off the side of her lips. His fingers stayed there two seconds longer than she’d expect from anyone else, and she fought not to blush. Or lean into his hand. Or—
Her phone buzzed and she leapt for the welcome distraction. “Billy? I’m so glad you called. Yeah, it’s been a long time.”
They chatted for a moment, Mitch’s eyes on her all the while. She explained what they needed and when. And why. “Mm hmm. Right. Thanks, Billy, see you tomorrow.”
“He’ll do it?” Mitch asked before she even put the phone down.
Ree grinned. “Yup. He’ll sort out a menu and cook it for us tomorrow at one.”
Mitch raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “You’re a wonder.”
“I am, aren’t I?” she smiled. “Now what about an ice cream cone for dessert—something normal, you know?”
Chapter 24
Mitch and Ree stood in a corner of the kitchen the next day, trying to stay out of the way of Billy Cunningham and his flying fingers. He chopped and diced and sautéed faster than Mitch had thought possible. Although for all his dining out, he had never been in the kitchen with the chef before.
“So this is still your thing?” Ree asked.
Billy just nodded.
“We could have gotten you some help,” Mitch said.
“If I couldn’t handle dinner for two by myself, I wouldn’t be much of a chef, would I?" And he turned back to his pans.
Billy set two plates before them a few minutes later, and Mitch’s mouth watered. He had taken a simple chicken breast and marinated it with this and drizzled it with that, and it smelled absolutely scrumptious. Mashed potatoes were creamy with a hint of garlic and truffles—not what Mrs. Cooper would serve, even though she made good food. A perfectly sautéed and seasoned vegetable combo rounded out the meal. And there was enough of it to call it a meal instead of a bite and a half.
He looked over at Ree and saw her smiling too. She took a bite of the chicken, a bite of the mashed potatoes, and sighed. “Thank you, Billy. Thank you for doing some honest cooking that’s, what do the TV chefs say—elevated?”
Billy grinned and wiped his hands on the towel with which he had carried the plates. “You two enjoy now, I’ve got to do some finishing touches on dessert.”
Mitch ate with relish as Ree told stories of Billy’s fancy high school cooking. They were good stories, but he mostly just loved listening to her.
He pictured her attending functions with him in Portland and winced at the image. It wasn’t that she couldn’t, or that he would be ashamed having her on his arm. It was more that her openness didn’t seem to fit in that world, and he didn’t know how she’d take the inevitable condescension of the people in his social circle. For that matter, he didn’t like the condescension of some of the people in his circle.
On the other hand, he’d love to take her to see his favorite parts of the country, of the world. She would soak up Hong Kong and Paris equally, experiencing everything with zest. And he bet she would love to sail—he couldn’t wait to take her out on his grandfather’s boat.
It was his own boat now, he reminded himself, wishing they had come together in time for her to know Granddad. But thinking about her meeting Granddad reminded him that there was still a lot about her he didn’t know. What was underneath that cheery exterior? What did she want that she wasn’t letting show?
Her laugh brought him back to the conversation, and he realized he must have been attentive without really listening. They shifted from her friends’ high school antics to the scramble for the Markov wedding, how many helpers to hire, what flowers they should have in addition to the bridal arrangements. Mitch was still thinking about what made her tick. He had no idea what she was thinking underneath their business conversatio
n.
Delighted with Billy’s cooking, Mitch took one last bite and wiped his mouth. “Last night you seemed to get a little defensive about what a small town has to offer. But before that, I had the feeling you couldn’t wait to get out of here.”
Ree played with her napkin, and he could almost see her discard possible answers. She finally spoke. “Sometimes I want out of town so bad I can taste it, especially when you guys talk about all your travels. But other times…” She looked through the window to the tall pines and the mountains behind them. “Other times, I wonder why I would trade all this for the crazy life of cities and people like Chef LaSalle. We have good folks here.”
Mitch only nodded—she didn’t sound finished.
Her napkin was a crumpled mess before she spoke again. “I do have dreams, but I’m here for now, and that’s got to be enough.”
Mitch’s eyes softened. “Then we’ll have to do what we can to make it enough.” Once the inn was up and running, he’d whisk her away to someplace special.
Billy came out with dessert, a chocolate lava cake with mint sauce and raspberries. It looked as decadent as any Mitch had seen. “I could do a crème brûlée tomorrow instead, if you’d like. And are there any allergies to consider, since we’re doing a set menu?"
Mitch hadn’t considered that. “I don’t think so, but I really don’t know.”
Billy nodded. “We’d better skip the shellfish and maybe do stuffed mushrooms for the appetizer? And will you choose the wines or would you like me to do that?”
“Stuffed mushrooms are fine,” Mitch answered, pleased with the direction Billy was taking. “And I’ll take care of the wine." He squeezed Ree’s hand—what would they have done if she hadn’t known Billy?
“It sounds wonderful,” Ree said, composed and businesslike again. “Let me know what items you want to get yourself and what you want me to send someone to Eugene for. You’ve seen a lot of the staples already.”
He nodded and turned to go.
“And Billy,” Mitch added, “thank you for stepping in.”
The young chef grinned at that, the smile reaching his quiet eyes. “Feels good to cook in a proper kitchen again. Dad’s old place just doesn’t quite cut it.”
Mitch sat back, replete and relieved. They had their chef. The lava cake was exquisite and definitely needed to be tomorrow’s dessert. But their conversation had mostly been on the surface, and the bit of personal insight still didn’t tell him enough about Ree.
* * *
Sunday was a big day with way too much to do. Ree spent an hour finishing a report for a class, then ran over to the shop to do arrangements before she was needed at the inn.
Her mother was sitting at the worktable, holding clippers but just staring into space.
“Mom? What are you doing?”
Mrs. Swanson shook her head slightly. “Just seeing how I do holding clippers.”
Ree patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t work your hand too hard.” She began running wire up the floral stems she needed, but looked up to see her mother still staring at nothing.
“Mom! Just what is going on?”
Mrs. Swanson shrugged. “I have a decision to make. I’ve been offered some help with the shop and greenhouse.”
“Someone else to do the arrangements?” Ree’s heart leapt at the possibility. Not that she didn’t love her mother, but she had so much to do with the inn. And she was really sick of getting pricked by thorns and poked by wire.
But Mom shook her head. “Evidently Mr. McCormick is taking an interest in the town since he bought the mansion back. Your Mr. Blake spoke with me last week about loans and grants the McCormick Foundation is offering.”
Her Mr. Blake. The thought warmed her. Then her mother’s words sunk in. “But you told me you didn’t want a lot of debt on the flower shop, or you’d have nothing to retire with.”
“Yes, well, he actually offered me a grant to get help here. Seems to think you’re being overworked,” she smiled.
“That would be awesome! I could be full time at the inn and—”
Mom shook her head. “I said no. I can’t take charitable funds just because I’m laid up.”
“But Mom—“
“No buts, young lady, this is my decision." She paused, then smiled slightly. “But I am considering taking him up on either a grant or a low-interest loan for the greenhouse.”
“The greenhouse?”
Her mother waved her hand around the workroom. “This shop, I enjoy it, but it’s only been a means to an end. I needed a business that would support us on our own, and I knew flowers. But the greenhouse…Mitch seems to think that the batwing flowers could be sold online and shipped, and that breeding lilies might pay off someday. He said I should talk to an advisor and draw up a business plan.”
Mitch offered all that? Ree tried to picture her mother in the wholesale business instead of birthday bouquets and funeral flowers. “Would you keep running the shop?”
“Oh yes. I still need an income and we’re the only florists in town—where would people go if I weren’t here? But if this doesn’t heal properly after all,” she held up her hand and turned it, looking at it from a distance, “then I’d feel okay turning the shop over to someone else, and I’d breed lilies all day. Maybe." She frowned suddenly.
Ree frowned herself. Someone else run the shop? How strange it would be to have someone else behind the counter. She wasn’t doing very well picturing it. Unless…her mother couldn’t mean for Ree to take over. Could she?
Her mother stood suddenly, shaking off her silent thoughts. “That’s enough of that—whatever might change won’t change today. Let me get the stems, and you can do the cutting and wiring.”
Ree worked on arrangements for the next hour, thinking about changes, thinking about Mitch and his offer. It was really nice of Mr. McCormick to invest in the town, but she wondered why Mitch was the one talking to people. And she wondered what other businesses he had approached with the possibility of a grant or loan.
She tried to picture the video store, the bowling alley, even the IGA Grocery all spiffed up and modernized. Tried to imagine more hotels and restaurants in McCormick’s Creek. And all the businesses that would follow.
Ree had wanted to leave this ho-hum town behind for as long as she could remember, but she always pictured it waiting for her to come back and visit.
She should have known that the inn was only the beginning, but just how much did she want a change?
Chapter 25
Mitch leaned on the glossy white railing, shoulder to shoulder with Ree. The late evening sun warmed his arms, although the heat of the day was gone. The tables were beautifully set, and Billy Cunningham was working his magic in the kitchen. It was nice, before all the excitement started, just to listen to the crickets and stand close to this woman who was claiming his heart.
He was aware of her breathing, her unfocused eyes as she gazed across the road, the way her light perfume mixed gently with the roses below. For now, he wanted to stay just as they were.
“It’s a beautiful evening,” he finally said.
Ree nodded. “It got a little hot today—I hope your friends had fun mountain biking.”
Mitch shook his head as he thought about Judd and Carson, both criminal attorneys. “They’re adrenaline junkies, they couldn’t have anything but fun up here. But yeah, they’re cleaning off all the dirt and sweat as we speak.”
“Who else is coming?”
“Gwen and Mark Hernandez—she’s a state senator. And the Colemans and Meyers from Eugene.”
“Plus the travel writer from the Oregonian.”
Right, he’d better not forget about her. The other guests had influence, but Ms. Richards would reach people all over the state.
Twenty minutes later, the guests had all arrived, including the freshly-showered Carson and Judd. Ree introduced herself and welcomed them to the McCormick Inn. “Chef Cunningham has a delightful dinner prepared for you and then we’
ll have a tour before dessert.” Ree said.
Enticing aromas came from the kitchen as Mitch held Senator Hernandez’s seat for her. This was going to be a perfect evening. He began to take his own, then stiffened as a cobalt-blue Ferrari pulled in. What was she doing here?
Melanie Xanthe eased out of the car and strolled confidently toward the group in the side garden. “So this is your quaint little town, Mitch. I didn’t realize it was so far off the beaten path.”
Of course she did, judging from her safari-chic khaki shorts and top; she just couldn’t help blasting her attitude about it. And he couldn’t have it out with her without making a scene in front of his other guests.
He glanced over at them. Judd grinned and Carson groaned. Ms. Richards and Mr. Meyer looked interested, and Ree rose from her table.
“I’m sorry, Mitch, I thought everyone was here,” she said stiffly.
“They were,” Mitch murmured, too low for anyone else to hear.
Ree extended her hand as Melanie made her way along the garden path. “Hello, and welcome to the McCormick Inn. I’m Ree Swanson, and it sounds like you already know Mitch.”
“So you’re the manager Mitch keeps talking about,” Melanie said. “He goes on and on about his pet project down here.”
Mitch bit back his retort. “Ree, this is Melanie Xanthe, my colleague and one of the best divorce attorneys in the state."
“I’m more than that, Mitch, and you know it,” Melanie said, her low voice sultry.
Mitch’s slow burn flamed higher. So much for her calm acceptance of their non-relationship.
He was glad to see Ree keep her composure, though. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Xanthe,” she said. “I’ll get another place laid for you.”
She slipped inside, and Mitch stared at Melanie. “You said you had plans this weekend.”
“And here I am." She laughed lightly and put her hand on his arm. “You’re quite handsome tonight,” she purred. “I’m not used to seeing you in short sleeves. You ought to do it more often.”
