Undercover Cook

by Jeannie Watt

  Several of the men appeared less than happy to be here, and Lois had told her that some had never fended for themselves before losing their wives. They ate whatever was handy, usually unhealthy fare. As for the younger two…Eden had no idea why they were there. Chaperones, perhaps?

  “Shall we get started?” she asked as she walked over to the station where her demonstration was laid out.

  Her remark was met by total silence. Finally a short, gnarled guy in a red plaid shirt growled, “What the hell. Why don’t we?”

  Hearing Lois inhale deeply behind her, Eden smiled to herself. This guy she liked.

  “WE’RE GOING TO begin with eggs,” Eden Tremont said. She was small and blond with cheerleader good looks. All the guys, even Gabe, seemed to be standing a little taller now that she’d started the class. “For some of you,” she said, “this may be new, for others it’s not, but practice never hurt anyone.”

  Nick glanced to his left and then gritted his teeth. Again.

  What in the hell was Marcus doing here?

  Studiously avoiding his eyes, that’s what, which made Nick nervous. Marcus had somehow adopted Lenny, one of Gabe’s closer friends and an ex-cop, and was working at the counter right next to Nick and Gabe.

  Eden quickly demonstrated what she wanted the guys to do, then set them loose and started circulating, calling out instructions. Gabe stood staring at his bowl. Nick shifted his weight impatiently, but kept his mouth shut, having learned a long time ago how to handle his grandfather.

  “She said whip the eggs until they have some air in them, kid,” Lenny said to Marcus, whose hand was a blur as he beat his eggs with a fork, “not turn them into a foamy mess.”

  Gabe exhaled heavily and morosely broke an egg, reaching into the bowl with one of his thick fingers to try and get out a piece of eggshell. He cursed under his breath.

  “Gimme another egg,” he said after wiping his hand on a paper towel. Nick handed him another from the carton they were sharing with Lenny and Marcus. As soon as he could get Marcus alone…

  “Don’t you want to join in?” Eden Tremont asked from behind him.

  He turned. “I, uh, am just here with my granddad.”

  “You can still cook.”

  “I haven’t paid for the food or anything.”

  “I’ll bill you,” Eden said. “I’m billing him.” She jerked her head toward Marcus, who was now ahead of everyone else and pouring his eggs into a pan. They practically exploded on contact.

  “Too hot,” Eden said, stepping over to lower the heat under the pan. “Everyone, please make sure your burner is set on low heat.”

  “I thought you said you were here to learn to cook, so you wouldn’t have a heart attack like I did,” Gabe said.

  “I can learn by watching.”

  Eden came back and set a clean skillet on the counter in front of Nick. “Use this pan. Cook some eggs. Make your grandfather happy.”

  Gabe gave a soft snort as he started stirring his eggs in the bowl. A few minutes later, he said, “You know, she’s cute.”

  “Yeah.”

  His grandfather tapped the spoon on the side of the bowl. “Aren’t you ever going to start looking again?”

  Nick sucked in a breath. It’d been over two years since he’d lost his wife in a car wreck. And no, he hadn’t started looking again. “This isn’t the time to discuss this, Granddad.”

  “When is?”

  Nick shook his head and reached for an egg. He cracked it on the side of the counter and the whole thing blew up in his hand, splattering yolk on his shirt and pants.

  “Good one,” Marcus said.

  Nick gave him a shut-up-or-you’ll-be-wearing-an-egg look. The accountant took the hint and went back to his stirring.

  “Thin-shelled egg,” Eden Tremont said from behind Nick. “They need to feed the chickens more calcium.”

  “Good to know,” he said, glancing down at the yolk spots on his pants. Eden smiled at him and he smiled back, wondering what it would take to get her to trust him.

  “The cleanup towels are over there by the sink. Just throw them into that container when you’re done.”

  “Will do. Thanks.”

  “This is lame,” Gabe said as he poured his eggs into the pan, but Nick noticed he was smiling a little. His grandfather had never been much of a cook.

  “Maybe,” Nick said, “but I learned some things about eggs.” Such as milk wasn’t good to use for scrambled eggs. Water was better.

  Once they finished cooking, Eden talked about various kinds of bacon—beef, turkey, pork and a soy product she called bacon-oid. The guys got a kick out of that one, but when she offered them a taste they seemed to think it was a reasonable alternative for those who couldn’t eat regular bacon due to the high-fat and sodium content.

  Lois had nodded with happy satisfaction during the mini lecture. Indeed, the old guys seemed more prone to listening to a pretty and petite blonde than to a woman who looked as if she could wrestle them into submission if they didn’t eat right.

  While Eden was talking, Nick pretended to pay attention as he debated which of those closed door across the room might hold a computer and how he could get at it. There was a computer in the front reception area, but he doubted it was linked to financial accounts. He would check it out, though. When he got the chance. It probably wouldn’t be during cooking lessons, due to the open layout of the place.

  Every now and again he caught Marcus shooting small glances his way. Another problem.

  Oh, yeah. He and Marcus were going to have a discussion, and soon, because Nick was damned afraid of what the accountant might be up to. Especially after assuring Daphne he was not a dweeb.

  As soon as class ended and Lois started the guys toward the bus, Nick said goodbye to his grandfather and sprinted a few feet to intercept Marcus on the way to his car.

  “Why are you here?”

  His colleague adjusted his glasses and squared his shoulders. “I have my reasons.”

  “Why don’t you share them with me?” Nick’s worst nightmare was that Marcus was here on some kind of an I’ll-show-you mission.

  “I want to learn to cook.”

  “I’m going to count to three....” Nick said.

  Marcus’s eyes got wider behind the lenses of his glasses. “All right. I came here thinking that maybe I could ask Eden Tremont out to coffee or something. Get to know her.”

  This was his way of manning up? Proving he wasn’t a dweeb? Nick could live with that—he just didn’t know if Eden could.

  “I thought I might be able to come up with a way to get at her computers personally, review the information, and save you the trouble of trying to hack in and download,” the accountant added.

  Nick’s eyebrows rose. How had Marcus planned to do that? Maybe while Eden was in bed asleep, after an invigorating romp?

  His mouth went flat. “I can see, though, that I’m not her type.”

  “Yeah?” Nick asked. “How can you see that?”

  “Because she was ogling you.”

  Nick snorted. Ogling? Somehow he had missed that, and he didn’t miss much. But it had been a while since his woman radar had been up. Two years this past January.

  “Therefore,” Marcus said smugly, “the obvious solution is for you to get to know her better. And I can help.”

  “Please don’t help,” Nick said instantly.

  “Too late.” He gave one of his superior smiles. “I’ve already laid the groundwork.”

  “What groundwork?” Nick growled.

  Marcus simply smirked and then started for his car without giving an answer, leaving Nick staring after him.

  Groundwork… He hadn’t had time to lay any, whatever the hell he had in mind. Nick had been within a few feet of Marcus the entire night, and other than a couple quick conversations with Eden… The guy was delusional.

  And a pain. “Hey!” Nick shouted. Marcus turned back. “How’d you hook up with Lenny?”

  His co
lleague shrugged. “I stopped by Candlewood and asked the woman if I could put in some community service hours. Told her I worked for Reno PD, and showed her my credentials.”

  “Well…it worked.”

  “I know,” Marcus said smugly, before turning back toward his car.

  GABE STOOD NEXT to the van, between the vehicle and the sidewalk, not exactly eager to settle himself in one of the uncomfortable seats, and heartily wishing that Lois would hurry up already. But he could see her through the kitchen window, still talking to Eden Tremont, the cute teacher who’d been watching Nick all night. Just as Nick had been watching her.

  Gabe felt a stirring of hope. As far as he knew, Nick hadn’t shown any kind of interest in a woman since Miri, and he’d definitely been focused on the teacher tonight.

  Gabe smiled a little as he recalled Nick telling him he wasn’t taking the class because of the teacher. Ha. So much for that. This was a good beginning and Gabe was going to see to it that Nick and the teacher got some alone time.

  But right now he was tired and wanted to go home.

  He resisted the urge to knock on the window to hurry Lois along and instead started up the steps into the van. Once he got into the van and took his seat beside Lenny, he could see that Nick hadn’t left yet. He was on the far side of the parking lot talking to that dark haired guy who’d attached himself to Lenny.

  “So who was your little helper?” Gabe asked.

  “Damned if I know,” Lenny said, half turning in his seat. He reached up to stroke the edge of his mustache, as if he was a detective solving a case in an old movie. Drove Gabe crazy when he did that. “Marcus somebody. He just showed up and told Lois he wanted to help out.”

  “And adopted you.”

  “Guess he knew talent when he saw it.”

  Gabe snorted.

  “You know what I think?” Lenny asked in his gravelly voice.

  “No way of knowing,” Gabe replied sharply.

  One last stroke of the mustache. “I think he’s hot on the teacher. Couldn’t take his eyes offa her. Probably doing this to get to know her better.” Lenny smiled. “Clever.”

  “Oh, give me a break,” Gabe muttered. “That’s not clever. It’s so obvious that…well…it’s just obvious.”

  “Nick was watching her, too.”

  Gabe sucked a short breath in between his teeth. He didn’t want his grandson to be as obvious as that Marcus kid.

  “You’d have to be blind not to watch her,” Gabe said. “In case you didn’t notice, she’s an eyeful.” And exactly what his Nick needed to ease back into life—a spunky, beautiful girl, who knew how to cook.

  Even though he thought Nick had a much better shot at catching her eye than Marcus did, he was now feeling a whole lot better about setting things up so that the two of them had a chance to talk again—without eight other guys and hawkeyed Lois there to watch them.

  “YOU WERE WONDERFUL with them,” Lois said after the last guy had taken off his apron and headed out to the Candlewood van. As near as Eden could tell after two meetings, Lois didn’t smile much, but she was smiling now. “I think this program could really take off.”

  Eden’s eyes must have gone wide because Lois quickly added, “No, we won’t take advantage of you. But this could be just what we need to talk the shareholders into building a decent-size cafeteria on the premises.” She reached out and patted Eden on the shoulder. “I’ll be in contact about next week’s meal.”

  Eden went with her to the door, pausing at the window to watch Nick walking back toward his black SUV, while Marcus got into his sports car. Odd pair. Marcus had chatted her up while he’d cooked his second pan of eggs, explaining that he was an accounts analyst and that his friend Nick was in home security. Both of them worked long hours and this was a great opportunity to spend time with their elderly relatives.

  It had been a lot of information crammed into a very short conversation.

  And now Marcus didn’t seem to be getting along too well with his friend. Obviously they’d had a discussion, and not a happy one from the look on Nick’s face. He glanced up as he approached his vehicle, and his eyes met hers through the glass. There was a frozen moment of connection before he looked away and opened the car door, his expression taut. Businesslike.

  Feeling oddly unsettled, she turned as he got in his SUV, and went to finish closing down the kitchen.

  “IT’S GOING TO be a surprise!” Tina Ballard said, leaning on the counter in the Tremont kitchen reception area, her gold bracelets rattling on the granite surface. Her younger son, Jed, stood behind her, jangling his car keys and generally looking bored as only a teenage kid could.

  Eden jotted down the word surprise and drew a circle around it. Tina beamed. She was trim and tanned from playing tennis, her dark hair perfectly cut. “His birthday is on the fifteenth. It’s a Tuesday, so that should really make it a surprise. Who has a party on a Tuesday?”

  In addition to cooking for the Ballards every week, Eden had catered many of their parties, but never on a Tuesday. “Not many people do that,” she agreed.

  Jed rolled his eyes. The Ballard boys were just a touch spoiled. Their father worked as entertainment director of several hotels in the Cassandra chain, including the Tahoe Summit. He pulled in one heck of a salary, but he’d always been down-to-earth and personable. As was Tina.

  “I’ll work up some menus and be in contact,” Eden said.

  “Good.” Her client patted the counter. “Oh, I heard that Justin finally got the Firebird going.”

  “Yes, he did,” Eden said. And she hated it, because he drove too fast.

  “Michael will be pleased. He only sold it to Justin because of you, you know.”

  Eden smiled. “I thought it was because of all that begging.”

  “That, too.”

  Jed gave a small cough and Tina straightened up from the counter. “We’d best be going. I know you’ll do a spectacular job with this.”

  “I will,” Eden agreed, as her best customer waved and disappeared out the door.

  Good money, good times, but surprise parties were a pain.

  She went back into the kitchen, where Patty was running a basin of warm water to wash the counters down after a full day of making chicken potpies.

  “I thought Justin would be in by now,” Patty said.

  “Double shift at the Tahoe Summit,” Eden told her. Again.

  “He does too much,” Patty said. Eden didn’t answer, since the prep cook said that at least four or five times a day, but she did glance at the clock. It was later than she’d thought.

  “Oh, man, I’ve got to hurry. I told Reggie I’d be at their place at seven.” It was her babysitting night, an evening she looked forward to, since she couldn’t quite get enough of her new niece, Rosemary Eden Gerard. Tom, Reggie’s husband, put in long hours renovating the house he was going to use as the site of his new restaurant, and he insisted that they get one night out a week.

  “You know I don’t mind finishing up here,” Patty said briskly. “I like cleaning at the end of the day.”

  “Thanks.” Eden didn’t hesitate in accepting her offer. Patty did like cleaning up, finishing up, locking up. Being indispensable. And in a way, Eden felt sorry for her. Other than at Tremont, she didn’t seem to be indispensable to anyone.

  Eden hung up her apron, thanked Patty again, who waved her off, then rushed out the front door to the lot. And stopped dead when she saw the envelope stuck under her car’s windshield wiper.

  Drawing in a breath, she yanked out the heavy envelope. Cream colored and expensive—no doubt who had left it there.

  Eden dropped the envelope on the ground and got into her car. She’d pick it up and throw it away some other time. But right now, even though she couldn’t see his car parked anywhere, she had a strong suspicion that Ian was watching, waiting to see her reaction to whatever he’d written.

  He wouldn’t be getting a reaction from her because she wasn’t going to allow him to enga
ge her. She jammed the key into the ignition and started the engine, letting it run for a few seconds before she put it into gear and backed out of the parking spot.

  She noted with a touch of satisfaction that she’d run straight over the envelope, leaving a nice dirty tire mark on the pristine cream paper.

  “IT’S OPEN,” TOM GERARD called when Eden knocked on the back door of her sister’s house. Brioche, her brother-in-law’s part-Yorkie dog, raced across the kitchen to greet Eden, nearly sliding out the door as she skidded to a stop on the tile floor.

  “Hey, Bree,” Eden said, leaning down to ruffle the hair of the little terrier’s head. The dog grinned at her and danced on its hind feet. Mims, Reggie’s fat cat, watched disdainfully from the kitchen door, but Eden knew that before the evening was over, cat and dog would be snuggled together in one bed.

  “Thanks for coming,” Tom said, handing Eden the baby and then gently prying tiny fingers off his slate-blue silk tie. Rosemary’s lower lip jutted out as she lost possession of her new find, so Tom made a silly blowing noise at her stomach. The baby gave a huge gummy grin and waved both hands. Tom laughed.

  “New trick,” he said to Eden with a crooked smile. “There’s a bottle in the fridge ready to go. Just heat and serve in about an hour, and she should go down.”

  Not if Eden had anything to do with it. The baby might go to sleep, but she’d be in Aunt Eden’s arms in the rocker while they overdosed on classic movies.

  “I need to hurry my wife along so that we can eat and be back before Reggie falls asleep.”

  “I swear she’s pregnant again,” Eden said.

  “Not likely.” But he didn’t look displeased by the idea. “And she’s not throwing up.”

  “It’s probably a boy. Different chemistry involved.”

  Reggie came out then, her dark hair swept up. She was wearing an emerald-green dress that made her look cool and elegant, exactly the opposite of how Eden felt nine-tenths of the time. Somehow blond and short did not translate into cool and elegant. She might have felt on the edge of sophisticated at Reggie’s wedding, and maybe at one or two of her proms—not the one where she fell in the fountain, thanks to her brother—but in general she had to settle for being the perky Tremont.