by Cat Chandler
"We're out in the middle of practically nowhere, surrounded by vineyards, and we’re on a first name basis with every single soul in this town. You can't believe we'll run into someone or something more strange and unusual than the average lunatic in the Big Apple? And what is that supposed to be, anyway? Food abuse by spatula? Really?" Jenna rolled her eyes.
"You computer geeks are such logical souls," Nicki said with a shake of her head.
"And you artistic types always take the most dramatic spin on everything, even preparing food," Jenna shot back.
Both women grinned at each other before closing the distance between them for a quick hug. Nicki grabbed Jenna's arm and pulled her over to the large island dominating the center of the kitchen. The self-proclaimed geek's big, brown eyes were magnified even larger behind the lenses of her oversized glasses. Her gaze darted around the room and she let out a low whistle.
"The ren-o turned out really beautiful."
"It did, didn't it?" Nicki's smile grew wider. With its brand new, marble-covered island, deep farm sink and gleaming stainless-steel appliances complete with a six-burner, gas stove, the kitchen was her favorite room in the house. Gone were the days of keeping her wine in a tiny, worn-out refrigerator more suited to a college dormitory. Now she had the most modern, temperature-controlled wine cooler available.
There was no doubt about it. This was her dream kitchen. And just as she’d told Maxie, she couldn't believe it was hers to cook in whenever she pleased. Nicki always clapped her hands in glee every time she walked into it. A job she loved, a kitchen to die for — her new life in California suited her just fine. She even adored the small town she was now calling home. So far away and so very different from the huge city of high-rise buildings and subways where she'd grown up.
Soldoff was only a few miles from the much more famous wine town of Sonoma, but had a unique charm of its own. The odd, hodgepodge style of the buildings clustered around the town's central square drew enough visitors on any given weekend to double the number of permanent residents, and during an art or wine festival, that number grew into the thousands. But even then, the town barely rated a dot on any road map of a State used to counting its population in the millions.
What Nicki liked the most, though, was Soldoff’s quirky history.
Her adopted home gained its name after its founder bid farewell to the town and moved back East, where he promptly started selling land plots in the golden State of California, most of which were already owned by his former neighbors. It was a toss-up of who was more surprised, the newcomers with a fancy, hand-written deed in their hands, or the owners who were already living there. It took several years, and a few fistfights, to straighten it all out. But along the way the town became known as the place that was “soldoff”, and over time, the name stuck. Fortunately for the residents, that was the last rowdy incident in the town’s history.
That is, Nicki thought, if you didn't count the annual Double Cross Festival. The rowdy celebration of the event that gave Soldoff its name attracted dozens of famous artists and winemakers, along with thousands of tourists who came to mix, mingle and gawk at them.
"The Candy Couple certainly went all out for you," Jenna said, using the local nickname for Maxie and Mason. Their original nickname of M&M had changed to accommodate Maxie's declaration that it was likely a copyright infringement on the chocolate treat sold in every grocery store. With that proclamation, the laid-back, agreeable town residents switched over to Candy Couple.
"Don't call them that," Nicki chided. "They've been nothing but kind—especially Maxie renting both of us a duplex at half the going rate."
"She rented your half of the duplex for half price because you joined her Ladies in Writing Society, and from what I saw yesterday out my window, plant petunias for her. And she rented the other half to me for the same, excellent price because I put up her website," Jenna said. "Which isn’t worth the break in my rent since Maxie insists on poking around in the admin screens and changing the codes on the plug-ins. Besides, they both call themselves the Candy Couple. So does the rest of the town. Why shouldn't we do the same?"
Nicki had to concede Jenna's point. Their mutual landlady never seemed to mind the nickname, and Maxie was notorious for fooling around on her website, leaving havoc in her wake.
"What did Maxie do now?"
"This time she tried to change the entire theme and launched one that didn't fit the layout at all." Jenna leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
"Well, okay. Whatever you said sounds horrifying." Nicki bit her lip to keep from laughing. She did her best to appear innocent when Jenna shot her a narrowed-eye look. "What?"
"I'm compelled to mention you also have a website, and a growing blog which pays your rent and lets you buy the fancy food you love to cook. It wouldn't hurt to learn how to keep your site in running order. I mean, what will you do if something happens to me?"
"I suppose if you collapsed from an overdose of excessive consumption of hamburgers, I'd have to hire someone else," Nicki said.
"Who would cost you a small fortune."
Sliding onto a tall stool, Jenna set the paper bag she was carrying on the kitchen island and leaned an elbow on the smooth, marble top. She grinned at her friend. "My neck was hurting from searching for you down there."
Nicki stepped back and put both hands on her hips. "That's right Jenna Lindstrom. Whenever you hit a wall in an argument, you try to distract me by making fun of my height."
Jenna took a loud, deep sniff of the fragrant aroma hanging in the air. "You may be small in stature but you cook like a giant. Is that your famous, homemade chicken soup?" At Nicki's nod, Jenna glanced over at the heavy mixer stand at the end of the counter with a pasta-making attachment on top. "And you made the noodles yourself?"
Nicki picked up the large pot and carried it to the sink to drain the contents into a strainer she’d placed there. "Of course." Then pointed at the bag in front of Jenna. "And if my soup is so world- famous, why did you bring that?"
"Strictly as a supplement. I'll wither away on that skimpy, healthy diet you and Alex always rave about," Jenna sniffed. "You know I love your soup, but I'd be starving again in a couple of hours if that's all I ate. Speaking of which, you'd better hurry it along. Alex should be calling at any moment for our catch-up session."
"Right you are."
Nicki grabbed two serving bowls from a shelf beside the stove and gently slid her cooked, homemade noodles into their bottoms. With the efficiency of long hours spent in a kitchen, she ladled in the broth before sprinkling fresh, chopped parsley on top. Nicki carried one bowl over to Jenna before retrieving the second one for herself, along with a plate.
She snorted in exasperation when her friend reached into her paper bag and plopped a large, greasy hamburger onto the plate.
Shaking her head, Nicki picked-up her cell phone on the first ring. After a quick, "hang on" to the caller, she hit the speaker button and dropped the phone into a small stand on the counter.
"Perfect timing, Alex. Jenna’s about to chomp into one of her grease burgers from Eddie's Diner to go with the delicious lunch I slaved over the entire morning."
Nicki tilted her head and wrinkled her nose at the glare Jenna sent her way before picking up her spoon and dipping it into the steaming bowl in front of her.
"Nicki made soup. I can't live on soup," Jenna complained.
"Nicki's soup is a main course all by itself." Alex's voice floated out from the cell phone. "And right now, I'd kill for it. I'd even kill for a greasy burger."
"Had to settle for the hospital cafeteria food again?" Nicki asked.
"I'm 100 percent certain I'm looking at the same salad I ate for dinner last night."
"Were you called in last night?"
While Nicki's voice was full of sympathy, Jenna simply shrugged.
"Well, you knew the hours when you decided on emergency medicine," Jenna said. "If you'd gone with psychiatry like you were thinking abo
ut when you started med school, you could have kept more human hours."
Alex laughed. "Pot calling the kettle black there, Jenna. Back in New York you were always up and working when I dragged myself home from my rotation, no matter what hour it was. And I doubt that's changed much."
"The only one of us who keeps anything resembling reasonable hours is me." Nicki didn't bother to hide the touch of smugness in her tone. "The writing and blogging life does have its advantages."
"Uh huh," both her friends echoed in unison, making Nicki laugh.
"Unless you have a deadline to meet," Alex put in.
"Well, there is that," Nicki agreed.
"Or you're trying to get in extra time with Tyrone Blackstone, the ultimate spy." Jenna winked at her friend who calmly continued to enjoy her soup.
"He is pretty dreamy and steamy when he isn't on a mission shooting people. The absolutely perfect guy," Alex said.
"Dreamy and steamy? I'm definitely using that in the next book blurb." Nicki grinned, delighted with the catchy phrase.
"Isn't any man perfect when he's a figment of your imagination?" Jenna asked. "But Tyrone is one of my favorite characters. Interesting what gets conjured up in of that mind of yours, Nicki Connors."
"Ignore her, Alex. So, what have you been up to?" Nicki asked. She wiggled in her chair to settle in more comfortably. She loved the easy rhythm of their friendship, especially during these cozy chats.
"Okay. But you first," Alex said. "I need to swallow at least two bites of this incredibly wilted salad from the cafeteria."
"After a long night at my desk, I sent the last of my articles to Matt. This morning he sent a return email asking for a conference call." Nicki glanced at her watch. "In less than an hour. After which, I'm hoping for three, uninterrupted days to finish writing Tyrone's latest adventure and get it ready to send to my proofreader."
Jenna clapped her hands. "That's great."
Nicki did a slight bow before turning her gaze to the phone. "What about you, Alex? How's that hunky fiancé of yours?"
"Ty is fine, and I'll let him know your new book is almost done. He likes to be forewarned of your publishing dates so he can hide from the other guys in the firehouse."
"I keep telling him, the hero's name is Tyrone, not Tyler. Why does he always think I'm writing about him?"
"Because he's a guy, and they all think they're dreamy and steamy." Alex's tone was so matter-of-fact her audience of two nodded in agreement.
After a moment, Nicki grinned and glanced over at Jenna who looked as if she was fighting to hold in her laughter.
Since he was a fireman, Ty assumed women in general saw him as a hunk, even if the idea made him flush with irritation whenever one of his fiancée’s friends teased him about it. But Nicki knew the honest, protective fireman had already figured out that to love Alex meant he had to put up with all of them. They were a package deal.
"Your turn, Alex."
With her usual enthusiasm for all things healthy, Alex briefly described her still very sketchy wedding plans before launching into an excited explanation of her latest exercise regimen which she fully intended to rope Nicki into.
"It seems to me you find that exercise routine more interesting than planning your wedding," Jenna said around a mouthful of burger.
"True words," Alex conceded. "A quick ceremony at city hall would work for me, but Ty and my mother want a wedding."
"And on that note, I guess it's my turn," Jenna laughed. She immediately related a hilarious story involving an engagement and wedding site she'd designed for the bridezilla to outdo all bridezillas.
Time flew by until the distinctive clang of the alarm on Alex's watch sounded through the speaker. The doctor's sigh was loud and clear across the cell phone.
"I have to get back. We’re monitoring a chest pain patient and I want to look in on him. I wish we weren't so far apart so we could have our catch-ups in person.”
"It's only forty minutes from here to Santa Rosa," Nicki said. "Why don't we plan on driving over tomorrow?"
"Alex has three days off next week and is coming here since Tyler's on duty at the firehouse," Jenna reminded her. She pointed to the far wall. “Stop using that paper calendar and go to the electronic one on your phone so you can keep everything straight." She raised her voice before adding, "both of you."
"And you need to stop eating so many burgers so your arteries won't clog and you end up in the ER," Alex replied.
"And I have that conference call with Matt in ten minutes," Nicki said with a glance at her watch. "We'll see you next week, then. Okay, Alex?"
"Oops, just got a page. Talk later."
The phone went dead. Nicki reached over and tapped the hang-up button while Jenna gathered up her now empty bowl and plate and headed over to the sink.
"I have to go, too. I need to straighten out Maxie's website and then put the finishing touches on another one for a new client who wants to go live on Friday."
Jenna set her dishes in the sink and turned toward Nicki, her eyebrows raised behind her glasses. "How is Matt, by the way?"
"He's fine." Nicki gave her friend a puzzled look. "Why?"
Jenna shrugged. "Just wondered. I know you write articles for his online magazine, but he spends a lot of time on the phone with you."
"Don't start, Jenna. He's the owner and editor of the magazine, and I'm only one of the many freelance writers he assigns articles to. Nothing more than that. Besides, I have a boyfriend. Remember?"
"If you say so. But if Matt spent as much time talking to all his writers as he does with you, he wouldn't be able to do much else."
Before she could come up with a solid counter-argument, her cell phone rang again.
"And he always calls right on the dot. I'd say he has a crush on you." Jenna gave an exaggerated blink of her eyes. "I'll see you later."
With no other choice but to answer the call, Nicki stuck her tongue out at the tall, dark-haired woman grinning back at her. With a last wave, Jenna disappeared into the hallway and Nicki pressed the answer button before putting the phone on speaker.
"Hang on a minute, Matt." A second later the front door rattled as it slammed shut.
"I gather Jenna just left?" Matt asked.
"Yes." A little self-conscious over Jenna's observations, Nicki put on her best professional voice and got right to business. "I emailed the last two articles this morning. I'm sure you haven't had time to read them yet, but…"
"I have," Matt interrupted. "They're fine. I'd be happy to discuss them in more detail, but unfortunately, I'm short on time today. Nicki, I need to discuss another assignment with you."
She relaxed. He sounded all business and nothing more. Jenna was crazy.
"What do you have in mind? I'll be free later this week."
"Well, I know you're looking forward to working on your novel but I need a wine event covered, and it's happening right in your neighborhood."
Curious, Nicki walked over to the calendar Jenna hated that she kept on the cork board next to the refrigerator. She always noted the local wine and food events, as well as any scheduled in the various wine regions around Soldoff. She saw nothing going on in the next four days to draw Matt's interest.
As if he could see what she was doing, Matt answered her unspoken question.
"It's a private event. Not publicized. The magazine got the invitation over a month ago, but I didn't intend to send anyone."
Nicki turned away from her calendar, picked up her phone and headed for her comfortable office where she kept her laptop. "Oh? Why not?"
"Because it's being hosted by Holland Winery in honor of their head winemaker."
"Okay."
"I like Jim Holland,” Matt continued. “But his winemaker is George Lanciere, and his ego is way out of line. Especially for a guy who hasn't produced a single, notable, limited blend of his own that’s worth writing about in ten years. The wines he’s produced for Holland have been solid, but not spectacular. And his m
outh is so big, he's lucky someone hasn't killed him."
She could hear the scowl in Matt's voice. Which was totally out of character. "If you don't think much of Mr. Lanciere, why are you interested in this event?"
His first response to her question was a heavy sigh. "There's a rumor going around that he's unveiling a new blend to rival the Holland Chardonnay which made the winery and George famous a decade ago."
Even though he’d piqued her interest, Nicki kept quiet. She knew Matt well enough to stay silent and wait until he worked through his thoughts in his own way.
"The guy can drop dead and take his latest creation with him as far as I'm concerned. But as editor of Food & Wine Online, I can't ignore this."
"How solid are the rumors about this special new blend?" she asked. Nicki had heard the gossip about Holland’s head winemaker. None of it was very flattering. But she’d never met the man.
"Solid enough for me to confirm them last night with Geri Gant, the assistant winemaker. When the announcement showed up on their website this morning, I called Jim Holland and accepted the invitation. They're expecting you to be there tomorrow."
Nicki couldn't quite stifle her groan of protest. "Tomorrow?"
"Holland Winery is only a fifteen-minute drive from you, isn't it? I know there's a tasting room off the main square in Soldoff, but the unveiling is strictly a winery event. Is there another conflict in your schedule? Aside from your novel writing time? I know that's important to you, and I'm sorry to have to ask, but I’d appreciate it if you could cover this event for me. That is, for the magazine."
Acutely aware of how much Matt had helped her freelance writing career get off the ground when she'd first moved to California, Nicki could not say "no" to him. Sighing to herself, she bid a silent goodbye to at least one of her free days to pen "the end" to her novel. She'd be getting a lot less sleep over the next few days if she agreed to cover the event, write the article and still meet the deadline for her book.
