by Aurora Rey
“Seriously? That must mean she is hot.”
“Don’t you need to get home for dinner?” She wasn’t usually in a rush to get rid of her sister, but she was done with this conversation.
“Yeah. You want to come? Mom would love to see you, you know.”
“I know.” But there were still a couple hours of daylight and she hated to waste them. And she wasn’t in the mood for her father’s lectures on the folly of her business model. “I’ll come soon.”
“Okay. So, I’ll be back tomorrow?”
Hannah thought about the sign Clare had painted. She imagined the store full of summer produce, complete with charming little signs. She could have Clare redo the ones out in the fields for u-pick, too. Maybe this marketing thing wouldn’t be so bad after all. “I’ll see you then. I can give you money for supplies if you need it.”
Clare waved her off. “I’ve got the paints and the wood is all reclaimed. It’s more authentic that way.”
Hannah chuckled. “Right. Well, I’m looking forward to seeing them.”
Hannah took both baskets and they exchanged a quick hug. Clare headed to the old truck Hannah had driven around when she was that age, and Hannah went back into the barn. She packed up the greens with some garlic, onions, and potatoes. It wasn’t quite an inspiring box, but they were getting there. For mid-May, it didn’t get much better.
She checked the log and noted that Jeremiah and a couple of the interns were putting in onion plugs. If that got finished today, they could do sweet corn next. Maybe she’d tackle the strawberries. She’d picked up a hundred new plants to supplement the patch she’d started a couple of years prior. Since the beds were already prepped, she might even be able to finish planting them before dark.
Happy with her plan, Hannah headed out to the field that held all her berries. She got to work, imagining strawberry shortcake and strawberry ice cream. In her mind, strawberries were the harbinger of summer. For that reason alone, they were one of her favorites. Before she could stop herself, she wondered what Drew might do with them.
Chapter Five
Drew rolled over and sighed. She’d been awake for the better part of an hour, along with the dozen or so birds that seemed to live right outside her bedroom window. She’d thought the quiet of nighttime would take getting used to, but it had nothing on this. Fatigue would catch up with her later, but for now, she had the anticipation of her first day to get her going. Even if it was still an hour before she needed to be up.
She put on coffee and showered, then used the extra time to make eggs to go with her toast. She sat at the table in the small eating area, which still had to be three times the size of the one in her apartment back home. Sunlight slanted through one of the windows. It was kind of nice, actually. And when the weather warmed just a bit more, she’d be able to drink her coffee on the porch.
Drew shook her head at the idea. So weird.
She finished getting dressed, including one of her brand-new chef coats. She took a second to trace her fingers over the embroidered logo of the restaurant and her name stitched underneath. It wasn’t the first personalized chef coat she’d ever owned, but something about seeing it, knowing the respect and the authority it held this time, gave her a thrill.
The drive to the restaurant from her house took all of ten minutes. She pulled into the small lot in back and found two cars already there. Well, a car and an ancient pickup truck. The car was the same one as the day of her interview. She hoped that meant Nick was there. And that he had a key for her so she could come and go as she wished. The truck looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it.
The back door was open, so she went inside. She heard voices before she saw who they belonged to. Drew rounded the corner of a large shelving unit and found Nick and Hannah, the woman from the farm, chatting.
Nick noticed her first. “Good morning, Chef. Happy first day.”
“Morning. And thanks, I’m happy to be here.”
Before Drew could say anything to Hannah, Nick angled his head. “You two know each other, right?”
Hannah narrowed her eyes at Nick for the briefest of moments before turning her attention to Drew. “We’ve met. Congratulations again on the new position.”
There was a coolness in her tone that Drew remembered from their first encounter. “Thank you. I’m excited to get started.”
“Hannah was just dropping off some of the first pickings from Three Willows for you to play with.”
Drew eyed the contents of the shallow, open box. Nothing earth-shattering, but the greens looked beautifully fresh, so she wasn’t going to complain. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Since you’re both here, I thought we could talk through some logistics.”
Hannah nodded but didn’t make eye contact with Drew. Like she was annoyed with her for some reason. “I’ve got about half an hour. I don’t want to waste any more of this gorgeous day than I have to.”
Drew bristled at her use of the word “waste.” She had half a mind to make a snarky comeback, but that probably wouldn’t help the relationship. And since the relationship directly correlated to her supply of ingredients, it was one she intended to preserve. She looked at Nick. “I’m at your disposal, at least until I get my feet wet and my menu approved.”
She couldn’t be sure, but Drew was pretty sure Hannah rolled her eyes. A very quick, discreet eye roll, but an eye roll. What had she done to get on this woman’s bad side? Before she could begin to consider the possibilities, Nick clapped his hands together. “Excellent. I’ve been doing some research and, as I’m sure you both know, there are no official rules when it comes to farm-to-table. And since it’s so in vogue right now, plenty of restaurants are playing fast and loose with it.”
That was one of Drew’s main problems with the whole fad. It made both chefs and customers feel warm and fuzzy and superior, but often meant practically nothing. She refrained from saying so out loud.
Nick continued. “I don’t want to be that kind of restaurant. I know it’s not realistic to source every bit of produce locally, but I want it to be a good-faith effort. That means using what’s available and making it the centerpiece of the menu as much as possible.”
Hannah nodded, all business now. “I was thinking I could scale up what we do with the CSA boxes and do deliveries three days a week.”
Drew raised a hand in an effort to get a word in edgewise. “What’s a CSA box?”
Hanna sighed like she’d asked the dumbest question on the planet. She might have rolled her eyes again, too. “It stands for community sustained agriculture. People pay up front and get a box each week of whatever is harvested.”
“Do I get any say in this or is it a done deal?”
“Is that not suitable for you?” If actual daggers could spring from eyeballs, Drew would be dead and Hannah would be on her way to prison.
“Not the overall arrangement. The delivery. I’m really used to sourcing my own ingredients. I’d rather come and choose from what’s available than have a mystery box show up.” She tried offering a smile. It was hard to tell if that made things better or worse. “I’d hate to have anything I don’t use go to waste.”
Nick seemed to sense the hostility. He focused his attention on Hannah. “Will that work for you? It’ll save you quite a bit of time in delivery.”
If she had to guess, she’d say Hannah saw the logic of that but really didn’t want to concede the point. “Of course.” Hannah looked right at her. “As long as you understand it’s not some kind of farmer’s market shopping spree.”
In her mind, that’s exactly what it was. “What do you mean?”
“I have a responsibility to the people who’ve purchased farm shares and to the people who come to the stand. I’m not going to pull asparagus from them just because you want it all.”
“Ah.” Annoying, but not unreasonable. “I assure you, I’m not one of those chefs.”
Hannah raised a brow. Nick didn’t give h
er a chance to speak. “I’m sure we’ll all get along just fine. Shall we say Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday?”
Drew nodded. “That would be great.”
“And, Hannah, you’ll keep a running tab and bill me weekly?”
“That works for me.”
“Excellent. Drew, why don’t we leave you to settle in and get a lay of the land? I’ve got the kitchen staff starting tomorrow and the waitstaff will be in training the rest of the week.”
Drew’s excitement returned. “We’ll be ready to open Friday.”
Nick smacked his forehead. Drew almost laughed. Did people really do that? “I forgot to tell you. I decided Friday would be a soft launch. One seating, invited guests, fully comped. I figured it would help build buzz and give us a chance to work out any kinks before a full service.”
She’d never been at a restaurant when it opened, so that wouldn’t have occurred to her. But it was a great idea. It eased some of her anxiety about not knowing any of the staff, including the sous chef. “That’s perfect.”
“Great.” Nick beamed. He probably had some nerves of his own, but he looked excited, too.
“Okay, now we really will get out of your hair. Holler if you need me.”
“Will do.”
Hannah looked at her for the briefest of moments. “Good luck.”
She and Nick disappeared into Nick’s office. Drew shook her head. Part of her really wanted to figure Hannah out—what made her tick, what made her seem so reluctant to give Drew the time of day. The other part of her had way too much to do to spend even a minute more than she already had thinking about the prickly green-eyed farmer.
* * *
“You’ll be there, right?” Nick’s expression held excitement, but also a small shadow of worry.
“Of course I’ll be there, you idiot. It’s your big day. And my food is going to be on your tables.” And if the food turned out to be fussy and pretentious, she’d smile and eat it and it wouldn’t be the end of the world.
Nick visibly relaxed and grinned from ear to ear. “It’s going to be amazing.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“I’m holding a four top for you. Is that enough? Too much?”
“It’s perfect. I’m going to bring Jenn, my mom, and Clare.” Maybe not the influencers he was hoping for, but she didn’t count a lot of those in her circle.
“Excellent.” He continued to smile, as though she’d just offered to bring the New York Times restaurant critic.
“Did I tell you Clare has decided Three Willows Farm needs a marketing department?”
“She has?” Nick raised a brow.
“And she wants to be it. She’s already set up an Instagram account.” Hannah remained equal parts bewildered and proud.
Nick nodded slowly. “Interesting. Is she taking new clients?”
Hannah laughed at the question, then realized Nick was serious. “Uh. I don’t know. She’s not in business or anything. She wants to learn and I’m going to be her guinea pig.”
“Kids these days. They know how to do everything.”
“Tell me about it. Speaking of, how are yours?”
“Angling for busboy duty.” In addition to Kristen, Nick had two sons, Owen, who was fourteen, and Theo, who was twelve. She’d known them all their whole lives. Babysitting them, along with Clare, had provided her with both spending money and an escape from farm chores during her high school years. They’d been absolute terrors as kids, but had mostly grown out of it. Mostly.
“Impressive.”
“Eh.” Nick shrugged. “They’ve got their sights set on the new PlayStation.”
Hannah chuckled. “A perfectly reasonable motivator.”
“That’s what Leda says.”
“So, is there anything I can do to help you get ready for Friday night?”
Nick took a deep breath. “I don’t think so. Unless you want to come out to the dining room and tell me everything looks good.”
“I’d be happy to.” Hannah followed him to the front of the restaurant. She’d been by once during renovations but hadn’t seen the final product. She didn’t really have an eye for design, but the space was beautiful. It had the feel of an old farmhouse but also managed to look crisp and bright. The tables were new and would be covered with cloths, but the chairs were mismatched antiques that Nick had spent months scouting at flea markets and garage sales.
“Well?”
“Nick, it’s perfect.”
“We decided to display local art that’s also for sale. You don’t think it’s jarring?”
“Not at all. I think as long as you steer clear of anything too funky or modern, you’ll be fine. What’s up now goes perfectly.”
She’d known Nick since she was six and he’d taken a summer job at the dairy. She’d harbored a crush on him for several years, until she realized she was actually attracted to girls, and still had a deep fondness for him. He’d so clearly poured his heart, as well as his life savings, into this place. And she got to be a part of it. A flutter went through her. She vowed to make more of an effort to get along with Drew. It was the least she could do.
“I’m glad you like it. Leda made all the decisions. She’s much better at this stuff than I am.”
Hannah smiled. “Yeah. Remind me to call her if I ever get around to decorating my house.”
“So, when pigs fly.”
She swatted at him. “Hey, now.”
“Kidding. You’ve got your priorities and I have nothing but respect for them.”
Hannah rolled her eyes. “Speaking of, I should get back.”
“I’ll see you Friday?”
“And I’ll expect Drew Thursday.”
“Thank you. I’m so glad that we’re sort of in this together.”
“Me, too.” She was. Even if it meant spending far more time than she cared to think about with one slick, annoyingly good-looking chef.
Chapter Six
Yet another gorgeous day and Hannah was sorry to have to leave the tomato field when her phone chirped that it was four. But by the time she was showered and putting on makeup, she was glad. She didn’t have many occasions to get pretty and could almost forget how much she liked it. She added earrings and perfume before slipping on the sheath dress she’d bought herself with the birthday money from her parents. She played with her hair for a minute, then decided to leave it down. It wasn’t quite warm enough for sandals, so she decided to go with her favorite heels. It was a party, after all.
By the time she got to the restaurant, all of the street parking was taken. She pulled into the municipal lot a block away, then texted Clare and Jenn. She got immediate replies from both that they were already inside.
Hannah started to climb down from her truck, then leaned back in to check her makeup. She’d never want to have a job where she was expected to do it every day, but she could appreciate why some women did. Her eyes looked brighter and her lips fuller. She smiled. Maybe there’d be someone around tonight she could flirt with.
The second the thought crossed her mind, the image of Drew followed. She frowned. Everything about Drew screamed not her type. Well, except the way she exuded butch confidence when she walked into a room. Or the way her eyes got intense when she talked about ingredients. Or the way her chef coat accentuated her broad shoulders.
Hannah groaned. Was there anyone on the planet she was less suited to than Drew? Why in the world did she keep sneaking into her thoughts?
The chirp of a text pulled her from her self-loathing. It was from Clare. Are you coming?
Instead of replying, Hannah hurried to the restaurant. Inside, at least fifty people sat at tables or milled around, sipping drinks and chatting. She found her group standing around a table near the bar and went over. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be running late.”
Jenn looked her up and down and offered a low whistle. “No apologies needed, but I can see what kept you.”
“Stop it,” Hannah said before leaning in to give he
r mother a hug.
“You look very pretty,” she said.
Hannah grinned at her. “Thanks. The dress is from you and Dad.”
“I’m glad to see you spent the money on something fun.”
“Yeah,” Clare said. “And not some tractor attachment.”
Hannah poked her sister. “Don’t be knocking my tractor attachments.”
Jenn hooked a thumb toward the bar. “Can I get you something? Beer, wine, or hard cider.”
“Hmm.” Hannah glanced at the bar and recognized the guy behind it from before the renovation. “I’ll get it.”
She caught his eye and offered a hello before ordering a glass of her favorite champagne-style cider. She’d just taken her first sip when Nick clinked a knife on a glass to get the attention of the room. Next to him stood Drew, looking way sexier than she had any right to.
As if sensing Hannah’s stare, Drew looked her way. Hannah watched her gaze travel down and back up, then she offered Hannah a slow smile. Hannah’s throat went dry. In spite of herself, she licked her lips, then swallowed. With the slightest angle of her head, Drew made it known that she’d caught Hannah’s reaction.
Shit.
Nick began to speak and Hannah focused squarely on him. He thanked everyone for coming, then gave shout-outs to those in the room who were involved in the relaunch of Fig, including Hannah and Three Willows Farm. He said some lovely things about his wife and family, thanking them for their support. “And last, but not least, it is my great pleasure to introduce our new head chef. Drew Davis comes to us from Salt in Manhattan, where she worked as sous chef under Michel Berens. Her experience at the cutting edge of New American cuisine is the perfect match for the new and improved Fig.”
Nick gestured to Drew and the room filled with applause. Hannah joined in, out of politeness if not enthusiasm. What the hell was New American cuisine anyway? If any of her produce had been turned into a foam, so help her, she’d—
