Jenna shook her head. “I wasn’t going to have the customers cook. I’ll be doing demonstrations. Showing techniques for different dishes.”
Violet’s arms dropped to her side. “That would be good, too,” she said with measurably less enthusiasm. “Will you have prepared the dishes in advance so they get to sample what you’re doing?”
“Of course.”
“That’s nice.” She walked toward the boxes and read the labels. “So you’ve never exactly run a store before?”
“No.”
Violet bit down on her lower lip. “Are you hiring a manager?”
“I’ll be the manager. At least for now.” Jenna squared her shoulders. It was time to get to the interview. “I’m looking for someone to work full-time with me. We’ll be open six days a week. I’d prefer you take your second day off on Monday through Thursday. I’m guessing Friday and Saturday will be busiest. I’m going to offer different kinds of cooking classes. Classic recipes, easy to make, foods that can be frozen and served days or weeks later.”
Stuff she could do in her sleep.
A part of her whispered it might be fun to experiment a little. To have customers surprise her with ingredients and then come up with something on the fly. She could—
Without wanting to, she remembered experimenting with bread pudding as an appetizer rather than a dessert. Using savory flavors, chilies and spices rather than sugar. Aaron had grabbed one of her samples before she could taste it herself. He’d taken one bite and quickly spit it back into his hand.
Then he’d patted her on the back and said, “It’s good that you try.”
As if she were some kid who’d made a mud pie. Some kid who had trouble learning and needed a lot of praise.
She didn’t know which had been worse—the rest of the kitchen staff watching, or the fact that when she’d tasted her creation later, it had been delicious. But she hadn’t trusted herself enough to give it to anyone else to try.
No. She wouldn’t be experimenting anytime soon. The reality of that thought made her sad. No, sad wasn’t the right word. It broke her heart.
“I want someone who can grow into the manager position quickly,” she said before she could stop herself.
“I would be interested in that,” Violet told her, looking pleased with the information.
Jenna pressed her lips together. If she wasn’t managing the store, she would have plenty of time on her hands. Time to figure out how to find that lost part of herself.
Violet glanced around. “Are you going to sell the foods themselves? The various ingredients?”
“No, why?”
“You need something for the people to buy. Either a gadget or a pan. Cookware doesn’t exactly break or go out of style. If you don’t offer the customers a reason to buy, they won’t. They’ll come in, get the recipes and tips, then leave. That means no money for you.”
“I see.” Jenna hadn’t thought that part through. “I’ll work something out. Maybe charge a fee for the classes. Why don’t you tell me about your current job?”
Fifteen minutes later Violet had run through her work experience. She had two letters of recommendation and an easy way about her. Jenna knew her own personality tended toward the control freak end of the spectrum. Violet seemed like a nice balance.
“Why are you looking to make a change?” Jenna asked.
“I like what I do,” Violet told her. “But corporate America isn’t my thing. I want to be part of a community. I’ve been in Austin a couple of years but I still feel like I’m settling in.” She waved her hand at the shelves. “This is going to be a challenge and that’s what I’m looking for. If you’re sure there’s a chance that I’ll be considered for the manager position, then I’m interested.”
Jenna was relieved. She’d already checked Violet’s references and had been impressed with what she’d been told. At this point someone who knew what retail was all about would be a big help. “When could you start?”
“Next week. Tuesday.”
“Perfect.”
The front door opened and a blonde woman in her late twenties walked in.
“Hi. I’m Robyn. I own the yarn store next door. Thought I’d come say hi and welcome you to the neighborhood.”
Violet moved toward her, smiling and holding out her hand. “I’m Violet Green,” she said. “I know. Crazy name. I think my mother was deep into medication when she gave birth. Anyway, this is Jenna Stevens. She owns the store.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jenna said, thinking Robyn looked familiar. Georgetown was small enough that they’d probably gone to the same school, although in different grades. Robyn looked a few years younger.
Robyn looked around. “Great space. It’s so light and bright. You’re going to love it here. I’m hoping we’ll be able to share customers.” She wrinkled her nose. “I was terrified an auto parts store would move in next door. Not that I don’t love my car, but not a lot of guys are interested in knitting.”
Violet laughed. “I’ve been in your place before. It’s beautiful. I love all the yarn.”
“Do you knit?” Robyn asked.
“No, but I’d like to learn.”
“We’ll be starting a beginner class in a few weeks. If you’re interested.”
“Thanks.”
Jenna found herself feeling shy and awkward. She reminded herself it was simple conversation. She could handle that. But the truth was, she hadn’t been out in the “girl world” for years. Most of the people in the kitchens where she’d worked had been guys. While Aaron had always had a pack of friends hanging around, she’d had more trouble finding women to relate to. When she’d lived here before, she’d had a lot of friends. She promised herself she would call them soon.
“I’m going to be doing a lot of cooking here,” she forced herself to say. “I can bring by samples.”
Robyn smiled. “This is why you’re going to be my favorite neighbor. I can already tell. When do you open?”
Jenna gave her the date.
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help,” Robyn told them both. “Even if you just want to pop over and have some coffee to get away from the craziness.”
“Thanks,” Violet said. “We will.”
Robyn ducked out. Violet closed the door behind her and laughed.
“What an adventure. I can’t wait.”
Jenna thought about how she’d spent the past couple of months feeling like a total failure. This was a new beginning for her. A chance to prove herself.
“I can’t wait, either,” she murmured. This time, everything was going to be different.
Jenna arrived at her new rented townhouse a little after six. After pulling into the garage, she climbed the stairs to the main floor, only to find her father squinting at a power drill. He checked the mark on the wall, then carefully drove in three screws.
She waited until the drill was silent.
“Hi, Dad.”
He turned and grinned at her. “Hey, kid. Your shelves are just about done. Give me a sec and you can help me put the brackets in place.”
The shelves were decorative metal with hooks for all her pots and lids. While the townhouse had plenty of room for the average cook, Jenna traveled with a lot of cookbooks, notes and equipment. Extra storage space was required.
Her dad winked at her. “I checked with your landlord, to make sure adding the shelving was okay.”
“I’ll bet that was a tough conversation.”
“He saw my side of things.”
As the man who owned the entire complex was a close friend of her dad’s, she wasn’t surprised.
Marshall put down his drill and held out his arms. “You okay, Jenna?”
She stepped into his embrace and allowed herself to get lost in her father’s familiar strength. “I will be.”
“I’m sorry Aaron turned out to be such a jerk.”
“Me, too. I wanted what you and Mom have.” Growing up, she hadn’t thought it was too much t
o ask. Now, looking back at her failed years with her ex-husband, she knew finding the right man wasn’t as easy as it looked.
“You’ll get there,” her dad told her. “But do me a favor, kid. This time fall for a Texas boy.”
She grinned. “You think they’re that much better?”
“I know they are.”
“What if he’s an Aggie?” she asked in a mock whisper. Her father had gone to the University of Texas. Aggies—those who graduated from Texas A&M—were the enemy.
“Better an Aggie than someone from California.”
She laughed. “I’ll do my best.”
“That’s my girl.” He kissed the top of her head and released her.
She stepped back and watched him finish putting up her shelves.
Maybe this wasn’t exactly where she’d thought she would be at nearly thirty-two, but she could still make it okay. She’d failed at her marriage. People did that and recovered. Many of them thrived. She could thrive, as well. She could figure out how to make starting over the best thing that ever happened to her.
Two
Violet parked in front of Jenna’s store and turned off her car engine. She still had a couple of sips left of her coffee. Based on the stacks of boxes she’d seen during her interview, she would need all the caffeine she could get to keep her energy going during the unpacking phase. Getting a store up and running was a lot of work.
She could see someone moving around inside and guessed Jenna had arrived before her. Enthusiasm was important, she thought, wondering if she’d made a huge mistake, quitting a job she’d had for nearly two years to work for someone with no retail experience.
The potential upside was that if the store was successful, and Violet made manager, she would enjoy being responsible for things running smoothly. The downside was Jenna didn’t have any experience and some of her ideas were a little strange.
Still, Violet’s gut had told her this was a good move, and she’d learned to listen to her gut. Except when it came to men, it had never let her down. On the guy front, her gut was a total failure, but she was okay with that. It wasn’t as if she was looking for a relationship. Career now, she told herself. Men, whenever.
She swallowed the last of her coffee, then got out of her car and headed for the front door. Jenna straightened at her knock and hurried to let her in.
“You’re here. Thank God. I’m drowning in boxes. I made a diagram so we’d know where to put everything. What I didn’t count on was the packing material. How is it possible that after I empty a box, there’s more material to stuff in it than will fit? Is that a retail thing?” Jenna paused and laughed.
“Sorry,” she said and shook her head. “I’m a little wired. I’ve been here since four this morning and I’ve had the coffee to prove it. Let me start over. Hi. Welcome. How are things?”
“Good. For what it’s worth, you’re right about the packing material. Somehow while it’s on the floor it multiplies or something.”
“That explains the mess.”
Jenna gestured to what had been an open space the last time Violet had seen it. Now it was a maze of boxes and shelves. Whatever free floor space had been there before was now filled with open containers overflowing with paper and cardboard.
By contrast, Jenna looked cool and unruffled. She wore a white chef’s coat over black pants. Black clogs covered her feet. She’d pulled her dark red hair back into a ponytail. Her green eyes were bright, her full mouth smiling, her skin perfect, despite the lack of makeup and probable lack of sleep. She looked like a model dressing like a chef for a photo shoot, but more Town and Country than Cosmo.
Violet had dressed for comfort and physical labor. She’d pulled a long-sleeved T-shirt over jeans and had worn scuffed ankle boots. Despite the fact that she wore the more practical clothes, she felt as if she’d misread the invitation and had shown up in shorts for a fancy dress ball.
“Here’s my diagram,” Jenna said, pointing at several sheets of paper tacked to the wall. “Obviously the kitchen is in back. I ordered a few new things for that and they’ll go in the cupboards under the counters. I’m organizing everything else by function. Pots and pans together, bakeware. You get the idea.”
She quickly went through the layout.
“A woman with a plan,” Violet said. “Why don’t I take some of this trash out to the Dumpster? Most of it can go in the recycling bins.”
“Great. I’ve been avoiding the boxes of ceramic bowls. I can’t begin to imagine how many layers of packing material are in those. With you here, I think I can be brave.”
They worked for the next couple of hours. Together they wrestled the impressively large mixers into place. Jenna did her share of ripping up cardboard and stacking supplies, which surprised Violet. A lot of bosses were more into gesturing about how the work should be done than actually participating.
Despite the physical labor, Jenna didn’t break a sweat. Violet felt distinctively damp, but rather than be annoyed, she told herself she would have to accept the fact that her new boss was one of those perfect people. Perfectly organized, perfectly disciplined, perfectly elegant in every situation. Violet had always meant to be perfect…one day. But somewhere during her life journey, she’d made an imperfect turn and never recovered.
Around ten-thirty, they took a break. Jenna had already stocked the small refrigerator under the counter with diet Snapple and handed out a bottle of unsweetened tea. They sank onto the floor.
Jenna stared around at the piles of merchandise. “It’s going to get better, right? If it’s not, it’s okay to lie to me and say it is.”
Violet uncapped her bottle and took a drink. “It’s going to be great. You’ll see. In the future, the boxes will only arrive a few at a time. That makes it easier.”
“I hope so. The worst I’ve had to deal with in a restaurant is finding out the beef I ordered hadn’t been butchered.”
Violet stared at her. “As in it was still a cow?”
“Practically. I had to prepare all the steaks myself. Let me just say, making tomahawks all afternoon strains the wrist.”
Violet must have looked blank because Jenna added, “It’s rib eye steak with a frenched rib bone.”
“Right.” As if that made anything more clear, Violet thought. “Does being able to cut your own steaks make you more or less popular with the guys?”
Jenna grinned. “It was important to prove myself in the kitchen. A little butchering can go a long way.” Her smile faded. “I was always better at that than Aaron. Probably another reason why things didn’t work out.” She stared at her Snapple for a second, before raising her head. “I’m in the middle of a divorce. Paperwork is signed. We’re waiting out the time.”
A divorce. Violet hadn’t seen that one coming. “I’m sorry,” she said automatically. “Do you miss him?”
Jenna shrugged. “You’d think I would.” She paused, as if thinking. “I miss what used to be good. When we worked together. In the past year or so, I couldn’t do anything right. Or so he said.”
Jenna stopped talking abruptly, as if she hadn’t meant to say that much.
“I know what you mean,” Violet said quickly. “I’m a total disaster when it comes to men. I’m always picking the wrong one. If I’m attracted to a guy, run far and fast. He’s a loser. Probably an unemployed loser who will charm you out of every penny you have.” Or worse. But she had no reason to admit that. At least not on her first day.
“My new plan is to not date,” she finished with a shrug.
“Ever?”
“I wish, but I’ll give in. This time I’m determined to get it right,” Violet said. “I’m going to keep saying no until I’m sure. Except all the ones I say no to turn out to be great. My radar sucks. I guess next time I need to say yes when I want to say no. Reverse psychology and all that.”
Jenna raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows. “You get asked out a lot?”
“Sure. Hourly. Don’t you?”
“Not
exactly.”
Violet didn’t believe that. Jenna was that irresistible combination of fire and class. “Maybe because you were married.”
“I don’t think so. Guys are rarely interested in me.”
Violet nearly choked on her drink. “Then you’re not paying attention. Trust me, men are interested.”
“I’m sort of avoiding men right now,” Jenna admitted. “Aaron cheated, so I’m being cautious.”
Her ex had cheated? Violet had to consciously keep her mouth from dropping open. If a guy would cheat on someone like Jenna, what chance did the rest of them have?
Someone tapped on the front door, then pushed it open. “Hi. I hope I’m not interrupting.”
Jenna stood gracefully and crossed to the other woman. “Perfect timing. We were just taking a break.”
As Violet watched, the two women embraced.
They couldn’t have been more different. Jenna was tall and thin, with fiery auburn hair. The other woman, older, was a petite, curvy blonde with big blue eyes and a ready smile. Violet had seen enough fake relationships to recognize real affection, maybe even love, when she saw it.
She’d already guessed their connection when Jenna turned and said, “Violet, this is my mom, Beth Stevens. Mom, this is Violet.”
Violet scrambled to her feet and held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Stevens.”
“Beth, please.” The other woman shook her hand, then touched the half dozen or so silver bracelets on Violet’s wrist. “I love these.” She fingered the black leather woven through a thick chain. “Do you change the cord?”
“I could but I usually don’t.”
“I should wear something like that.”
Violet did her best not to look surprised. Beth was elegantly dressed in tailored pants and a fitted long-sleeved shirt that had more than a passing resemblance to silk. Her jewelry was delicate and understated, except for a honking big diamond next to an eternity wedding band. Violet would guess the watch alone would cover her rent for close to a year.
So this was how the other half lived, she thought, curious rather than envious.
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