Recipe for Love

by Aurora Rey

  Drew knocked it to the ground, swore, then picked it up. Why was her alarm going off at eight in the morning? She realized it was Saturday, the day she’d promised to help her grandmother bring things to church for the rummage sale, and groaned.

  On the heels of that realization came remembering her text conversations from the night before. She’d abandoned them, not wanting to risk waking anyone at the obscene hour she finished work. She pulled them up, starting with an apology to Clare for not getting back to her. She then turned her attention to Nick. A minute later, her phone was ringing. It was Nick.

  “Isn’t there something we can do to help?” she asked.

  “I’ve offered, but what I can tap into wouldn’t do much good. And unless you’ve got a trust fund you hide remarkably well—”

  “What about a fundraiser?” She’d half-baked the idea the night before and probably should have finished sorting it out in her mind first, but she couldn’t stop herself.

  “Like at the restaurant?” He sounded incredulous.

  “Yes. Big fancy dinner, all proceeds going to keep Three Willows Farm alive and well in the community.”

  “She’s pretty beloved. The farm is, too.”

  “Exactly. We probably won’t raise enough to buy the land, but a healthy down payment might help her secure financing.”

  Nick didn’t say anything and she thought he might be looking for a way to gently nix the whole idea. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”

  She smiled. He was such a good guy. “I don’t have a trust fund, but I’d volunteer time and could even cover some of the costs.”

  “If we did one night’s receipts, just with regular dinner service, that would be huge.”

  It didn’t surprise her that he agreed, but she was taken aback by the level of generosity he was immediately prepared to throw out there. She started to get excited. “We could do something special, a one-night-only menu. Prix fixe will keep costs down. Even if you held some back to cover labor, it could be huge.”

  “I think it’s a great idea. Big city chef, back for one night only.”

  Oh, she hadn’t thought of that angle. “What if I could convince a couple of big names to join me? Turn it into a celebrity event.”

  “Could you do that?”

  “I’d have to ask around. But my boss is crazy connected.” Javier would probably find the whole thing charming. And in a way, it would be free publicity.

  Nick sighed. “There’s only one problem.”

  She really couldn’t see any. “What’s that?”

  “Convincing Hannah to let us do it.”

  Drew chuckled ruefully. “Right.”

  “I mean, I probably can. Especially if I play the card of wanting to make sure she doesn’t have to lay off staff.”

  “Good call.” Drew hesitated. She didn’t want to, but she needed to put it out there if this was going to fly. “You probably shouldn’t mention my involvement.”

  “What do you mean?” He seemed genuinely confused. “If you’re hoping she gives you a second chance, wouldn’t you want her to know?”

  “I’m afraid she might think I’m doing it to try to get her back. She’d hate that. And I’m afraid it might make her say no on principle.”

  Nick made a tutting noise that sounded like sympathy. “I don’t want to admit you’re right, but you might be.”

  “Let’s not take a chance, at least before she agrees to it. This matters too much.”

  “You’re a good person, Drew, in addition to being a good chef.”

  Drew smiled. “Save the compliments for when we pull it off.”

  Nick laughed. “Fair enough. I’ll talk to Hannah and hopefully get back to you with some dates.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll talk to you soon.” She was about to hang up, but hesitated. “Hey, Nick?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for letting me in on this after I quit on you.”

  “No hard feelings, Drew. I promise.”

  She ended the call and sat on the edge of the bed for a moment. Part of her ached for the stress Hannah must be under. The other part of her was giddy at the prospect of being able to help and of having a reason to see Hannah again. She shook her head. A lot of things had to fall into place for that to happen. And even if it did, it still didn’t mean Hannah would want anything to do with her.

  Chapter Thirty

  Hannah pinched the bridge of her nose, guilt and hope swirling in her chest like a tornado. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”

  Nick reached across the desk in her little office and covered her hand with his. “You repay me by staying in business and continuing to supply my restaurant. Do you not see how much my success depends on yours?”

  “You’re being generous. There are at least a dozen farms who could provide you with fresh produce.”

  Nick shook his head. “It wouldn’t be the same. One, our system works. You don’t mess with something that works. Two, people love making the connection to a place they can go themselves. It’s not some random purveyor whose name they see on the chalkboard by the door. And three, you aren’t some random purveyor. You’re family.”

  That single comment, about family, tipped the scales. With the exception of her initial conversation with Jenn, she’d held it together and not cried once. But now the tears fell. Like dams giving way or floodgates or all those other stupid analogies, they kept coming, a deluge of all her pent up stress and anxiety. In between sniffles, she managed to say, “You’re the best family.”

  “So, is that a yes?”

  She wiped her eyes and took a steadying breath. “It is. On one condition.”

  He regarded her with suspicion. “What’s that?”

  “You let me pay back the costs of putting it on with produce.”

  “You really don’t need—”

  She lifted a hand. “I insist. It’s literally the least I can do and agree to this much generosity.”

  “Okay. We’ll work something out.”

  Maybe this would work. She allowed hope to swell. “Thank you.”

  “Lord knows the only person more stubborn than Leda is you.” He shook his head but was smiling.

  Some of the pressure in her chest eased. “You like strong women, admit it.”

  “I do. I love them.” He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

  “So, what do you need from me?” Hannah asked. They were really doing this, and it might actually save her farm.

  “For you to help me pick a date, then stand back and trust me. Oh, and provide some of the ingredients, obviously.”

  His choice of words gave her the slightest hitch of hesitation, but she pushed it aside. It was her own desire for independence that made it so hard to give up control, nothing more. He knew what he was doing and, even more importantly, she did trust him. “Okay.”

  “Excellent.” He beamed at her as though she’d just given him the best possible news. It was humbling to realize just how invested he was in her success.

  Nick pulled out his phone and ran through a couple of options for day and time. In the end, she left even that decision up to him. It wasn’t like she had any burning plans on the horizon.

  He left and she stayed in her office for a moment. She’d been racking her brain for over a week and hadn’t come up with a viable plan. Selling farm shares in advance, renting out space for parties or rustic weddings—none of it would pull in the capital she needed fast enough to make a difference. She’d never considered asking the community to chip in. They already supported her so much. Nick’s idea was charity, but not. People would be getting something for their money, something good. And as much as it pained her to need help, Nick might be the one person on the planet she could accept it from and still feel good. Plus, she had a built-in way of paying him back, at least some.

  Maybe she could do gift certificates or something for the people who came. It would help justify the ticket price and it would make her feel like she was contr
ibuting. She’d need to ask Clare for help designing it. Since Clare was working for Nick now, too, she could also help with marketing.

  Hannah took a deep breath and stood. Having a plan was great. Having tasks related to it was even better. She could do this. They could do this.

  She left her office and went in search of Jeremiah. It felt easier telling him what was happening now that she had a plan. Well, that and knowing once Nick started planning in earnest, word would get out. She wanted to tell all of her staff personally about the situation, but especially Jeremiah. She owed him that.

  He took the news in stride, perhaps because he was an optimist at heart and her plan sounded reasonable. Whatever the cause, his confidence that everything would work out buoyed her. She went back to work with a renewed sense of purpose.

  When she got home a few hours later, she was exhausted from work as much as from the emotional roller coaster of the last few days. But for the first time since she’d opened that damn letter, she didn’t worry about being able to fall asleep. Maybe a small part of her pined for Drew—her warmth or her solid presence or her innate ability to distract Hannah from whatever filled her mind—but she set it aside. She had much bigger things to think about than a smooth-talking chef who couldn’t get out of town fast enough.

  * * *

  “Child, are you going to tell me why you’re so sad?”

  Drew smiled at the term of endearment. It was one she’d never outgrown and, at this point, she didn’t want to. Hearing it now put a lump in Drew’s throat. “I’m not sad, Grann. I’m blessed. I have the job of my dreams and I’m here with you.”

  “Those things might be true, but your eyes are sad. When the eyes are sad, the heart is, too.” She had such a talent for cutting to the heart of something.

  “I’m just missing upstate. I didn’t think I’d get so attached in such a short amount of time.” And the more time she spent planning the gala with Nick, the worse it seemed to get.

  “Tell me what you miss. It lessens the load to talk.” Drew must have looked incredulous because Grann gave her a stern look. “I’ve lived a lot longer than you. Trust me.”

  Drew took a deep breath. “I miss the restaurant. My staff, Nick—they were a great group of people. Different from restaurant people in the city.”

  Grann nodded. “And what else?”

  “My little house. I never in a million years thought I’d get used to the quiet, the stillness of it.” She chuckled. “All the nature.”

  “But you did. There is a streak of country folk in your heart. You got that from your father.”

  For reasons she couldn’t explain, the mention of her father brought Drew to the verge of tears. Her memories of him were so fuzzy at this point, more the work of the stories she heard about him than her own experiences, including the fact that he’d grown up in the Catskills. But in that moment, the loss of him from her life hit her, a visceral ache deep in her chest. She shook her head, as though she might deny entry to the grief she usually held at bay. “I’ve always loved the city.”

  “You can love one thing but realize your heart belongs to something else, to someone else.”

  From Grann’s lips, it sounded like a simple truth, an obvious condition of life. But it didn’t feel simple. “What if those things are in direct opposition to each other?”

  “Then you must stretch your heart so that you may hold them both.”

  Drew turned the idea over in her mind. It sounded like a nice sentiment. Even if she didn’t have much use for the more outlandish bits of philosophy and religion her grandmother espoused, this felt sound in principle. Personal growth and expanded worldviews and all that. Too bad the logistics seemed impossible.

  “You feel disloyal, don’t you?”

  The question ground Drew’s thoughts to a halt. Loyalty was a point of pride for her. She joked about her ego, but fealty drove her above all else. It was why she was back in the city—to fulfill a promise she’d made to herself and to her family. “Disloyal?”

  Grann moved her hand back and forth. “Perhaps this is not the right word. You are driven by loyalty. You are letting it lead you when it should be the other way around.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She looked to Manman, who stood at the sink. A look Drew didn’t understand passed between them, then she placed a hand on Drew’s knee. “When your father died, your mother and I discussed returning to the island. It felt safe, familiar. And the cost of living would have been a fraction of what it took to stay in the city.”

  “You never told me that.”

  Manman joined them at the table. “You were young. We didn’t want you worrying about your life being turned upside down even more than it already had.”

  “What made you decide to stay?” Drew had a sinking feeling she didn’t want the answer.

  Grann shrugged, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Our lives would have been easier there, but your life was here. Your opportunities were here.”

  The ache in Drew’s chest became a knot. “You both have sacrificed so much for me. All I ever wanted was to repay you for that, to make you proud.”

  Manman pointed at her, looking every part the stern teacher. “You make us proud by living your life, being happy. Nothing more.”

  Could she believe that? Did she want to? Even if she did, it might not matter. Hannah had broken things off without even a hint of hesitation.

  “It’s the girl, isn’t it? Hannah?” Grann may have phrased it as a question, but her face made it clear she already knew the answer.

  “She didn’t want me to stay. If anything, she made it clear I should go and not look back.”

  Manman looked down at her hands. “I fear I may have had something to do with that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When your grandmother and I were visiting, when we all had dinner together, I said something about you coming back to the city as a head chef. I said it would be the thing that made all the work and sacrifice worthwhile. I think she may have taken that to heart.”

  Drew’s stomach twisted. Could that really be why Hannah brushed her off so quickly? Not because she didn’t care but because it felt like the right thing to do? That changed everything.

  Manman and Grann went to bed, leaving Drew at the table with her whiskey and her thoughts. She’d always considered herself a risk-taker, willing to push the boundaries of what was acceptable or expected. For as much as that might be true in the kitchen, she’d done a pretty shit job of it in the rest of her life.

  Manman’s words echoed in her mind. Living her life and being happy. She’d thought she knew what those things looked like, what it would take to achieve them. Whether she’d been completely wrong or they’d somehow shifted on her hardly mattered. What mattered now was knowing what she needed to do, feeling more certain than she had about pretty much anything in her life to date, including becoming a chef in the first place.

  She looked at the clock on the stove. Just after ten. Javier would probably just be finishing dinner. She pulled him up in her contacts and initiated the call, prepared to do what just a month ago would have been unfathomable. He answered after only one ring.

  “Calling me on your day off? It’s either wonderful news or terrible.”

  She smiled at his signature lack of a hello and seeming ability to read her thoughts. “Maybe a little of both.”

  “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

  The question was absurd, but the underlying meaning cut close. She let out an uneasy laugh. “Not exactly. I’d like to talk in person. Are you free?”

  “You’re quitting.”

  She flinched at the statement, both for its accuracy and what it said about her that she was looking to quit a second job in as many months. “What makes you think that?”

  “Because you hesitated to take the job in the first place and because your heart has been elsewhere since you got here.”

  Okay, so apparently they were ha
ving the conversation right now. “I’m sorry I haven’t been giving you my all.”

  “Your cooking is fine. I’m not taking issue. But your heart, it’s not in your work. Tell me you’re in love and that I was right all along.”

  She winced, embarrassed but relieved. “I’m in love and you were right all along.”

  “I knew it.” His voice held more triumph than displeasure. “Love is the only good reason for abandoning me, and the very best reason of all.”

  Drew scratched her temple. “I had no idea you were such a hopeless romantic, Javier.”

  “It’s because if my chefs knew, they’d walk all over me.”

  “Are you enough of a romantic to help the chef who just walked all over you?” Maybe she should have asked for his help before quitting on him.

  “Is it about getting the girl?”

  It so was. “Yes.”

  “Then I’m in.”

  Drew smiled. “Hannah’s farm is in trouble.”

  An hour later, she hung up the phone with Javier’s promise to attend the gala and bring two of his better-known chefs with him. She had no job, but she’d worry about that part later. She had a plan and a sliver of hope. For now, it was enough.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Drew’s Trumansburg landlord probably thought she was insane. She’d given notice, paid her last month’s rent, then called him about renting the house she’d just vacated, all in less than a month’s time. Given the many and varied ways she was acting like a crazy person these days, it didn’t really bother her. She was just glad he’d not found a new tenant yet.

  Being in the house again was at once familiar and strange. She didn’t linger or bother unpacking. She needed to get to her meeting with Nick to talk about the guest chefs and the final details for the gala. Oh, and the minor matter of begging for her job back.

  They met at Atlas, which should have felt like neutral territory but reminded her of her first day in town. It was noon on a weekday, though, and the bowling lanes sat empty. Not that it stopped her from imagining Hannah, beautiful and triumphant in her tight jeans and those ridiculous shoes. She’d felt the spark that day, even if she’d had no idea what it would become.