by penny watson
“Where exactly is your business, Nicholas?”
Nicholas waved vaguely with his rolling pin. Lucy was starting to ask too many questions, and he needed to distract her.
“Up north. So, how about you? When did you know you wanted to work in the culinary arts? Those leaves are beautiful, by the way. I can’t believe you have serrated edges.”
“Oh, thanks, I actually studied real apple foliage to make sure they were accurate. To answer your other question…I knew I wanted to be a baker when I was about five years old. It was Christmas time, and I visited one of those holiday villages with my parents. There was a gigantic gingerbread house in the center of the display, and a man was decorating the outside with white frosting and candy. I thought to myself, ‘That is the coolest job ever! To create delicious things people love to eat, and to use your imagination all the time.’ My parents always indulged my experiments in our kitchen, even after the exploding food processor incident, kitchen fires, and the time I burned my dad’s tongue by using too many habanera chilies in my salsa, and…”
Nicholas barked out a laugh. “My God. You had a steep learning curve. It’s a wonder you didn’t burn your house down.”
Lucy smiled. “I certainly tried, on more than one occasion. We didn’t have a lot of money, but my parents scraped together the funds for culinary school. They were so proud the day I graduated.”
Nicholas began to chop the apples. He loved the feel of the knife in his hand, flying as fast as he could, clicking on the wooden cutting board. “Well, your parents must be thrilled with your success. Sweet Inspiration is a wonderful café.”
“Actually, my parents died several years ago in a car accident. They never got to see my café. I wish…well, after all the years I spent dreaming about opening this place, I really wish they had gotten a chance to see it. They would have loved it.”
Nicholas noticed the wistful look on Lucy’s face. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
She shook her head. “No, just me. I think I was enough trouble for my parents by myself.”
She’s all alone. No wonder she spends so much time at the shop with her customers. This is her family now. Nicholas could not imagine life without his brothers and parents. Although they often infuriated him, being part of the loud and boisterous Klaus family was also a comfort.
“I’m sorry to hear about your parents, Lucy. That must have been a tremendous loss for you. They would have been very proud of your beautiful café and all of your delicious creations. You do have fire extinguishers in here, don’t you?”
Nicholas was relieved when she laughed, although her eyes were suspiciously misty. He did not want to see her sad again this evening.
As Nicholas continued to dice the apples, he became aware of Lucy’s gaze.
“My God, I’ve never seen anyone with such fast knife skills. You’re already halfway done with the apples!” she said in admiration.
He shrugged. “One of my best talents, I must admit. If things don’t work out as a baker, I can always become a hit man.”
Lucy laughed.
Nicholas was filled with an inordinate amount of satisfaction as she watched him work. Others had commended him on his abilities in the kitchen, but for some reason her approval filled him with pride. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm and started on the next batch of apples.
Lucy disappeared into the cooler, then returned with a chilled mug of apple cider. She smiled as she handed him the mug. “You look hot and tired. This cider is great. It’s from a local farmer.”
Nicholas was touched by the unexpected gesture. He took the cup and nodded his appreciation. “Thank you.” No one had ever bothered to bring him a cold drink while he worked. His employees were more or less scared to death of him, having witnessed his temper tantrums when things did not go according to plan. They scurried about the kitchen, avoiding eye contact. Nicholas realized Lucy thought about others a lot. It was simply her nature, and that’s why so many people were drawn to her shop.
“Are we ready for the custard? It’s just about finished. The final touch is the bourbon.”
Nicholas breathed deeply. “It smells incredible. What kind of vanilla do you use?”
“I prefer Madagascar. How about you?”
“I’ve been making pure vanilla extract using Mexican beans. They’re very rich, and I think add a depth of flavor I need for my cookies.”
“Oh, I would love to try those sometime. They’re difficult to come by.”
“I would be happy to get some for you. I have a great supplier in Mexico. What are you doing?” Nicholas watched incredulously as Lucy poured the bourbon into her mixing bowl.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not measuring. You should be measuring. How do you know that’s the correct amount of bourbon?”
Lucy laughed. “By taste, Nicholas. You can’t convince me that you always measure out your ingredients.”
“Yes, I do. Measure them precisely. Otherwise, how will you be able to recreate your recipe with any consistency? It’s damned near impossible. Let’s get you a measuring glass…”
“Not necessary. It’s perfect.” Nicholas gaped in horror as Lucy dipped a spoon in the mixture and tasted it.
“There are raw eggs in there, Lucy!”
“My goodness, Nicholas. Live a little dangerously. I’ll be fine. The custard is delicious, you want to try some?”
He recoiled. “No…I’ll just take your word for it.”
Lucy shook her head. “Do you always follow the rules? Sometimes it’s nice to just go with the flow.”
“You sound like my brothers. They are constantly haranguing me about my lack of spontaneity. Truthfully, the order in my kitchen is a comfort for me. I don’t really like surprises. I’m not so good with customers, either. They have a tendency to irritate me with their indecision and lack of focus. My assistant Markus takes care of that part of my business.”
Lucy finished pouring the custard over the apples, and carefully added the leaves to each piecrust. Nicholas brushed an egg-white wash over the crust and sprinkled cinnamon on top. She stopped working for a moment and looked up at him.
“I think you should listen to your brothers. You’re clearly a well-trained chef. But sometimes my best recipes result from mistakes I make. And those customers are people. Listening to their problems may seem irritating, but it’s nice to have friends to care about, and who care about you.”
Nicholas raised his left eyebrow. “Are you going to bill me for this session, Dr. Phil?”
Lucy giggled. “Yep. Well, maybe not. I think you should be billing me for all of the work you’re doing. Thank you, Nicholas. I can’t tell you how many nights I’ve spent all alone in this kitchen frantically finishing an order. It’s wonderful to have your company.”
Nicholas cleared his throat. The adoration in Lucy’s eyes was humbling. “We make a good team, don’t we?”
She nodded her head, and copper-colored curls bobbed around her face. “Yes, we do.”
Lucy yawned and Nicholas found himself unduly fascinated by her mouth. “Let’s get these into the oven. We’re almost done. And you need to get some sleep before morning.”
“I usually stretch out on the sofa in my office. Thank goodness the candy canes and cookies are already done. I just need to organize them on some platters.”
While the pies were baking, Nicholas and Lucy cleaned the kitchen. He noticed that her “go with the flow” attitude did not extend to cleanliness. Her work area gleamed by the time the pies were finished.
Lucy arched her back and yawned as Nicholas put the last of the pies in the cooler. Just as he turned out the lights, he noticed her leaning in the doorway with her eyes closed. A little bouquet of mistletoe, tied with a red ribbon, dangled over her head.
Nicholas chuckled and leaned down to softly kiss her luscious lips. “Let’s get you to bed, Lucy Anne.” He slid his arm beneath her knees and lifted her slight body against
his chest. Lucy snuggled her face into his shirt and mumbled something. He found the office down the hall and gently placed her upon the lumpy couch, then blanketed her with a fleece throw.
He smiled as he gazed around her office. A fresh evergreen tree stood in the corner, draped with strands of popcorn and cranberries and tiny homemade ornaments. On the walls hand-drawn pictures and photos of her customers vied with assorted travel posters. One displayed a stunning field of lavender in Provence, another showcased the turquoise waters of the Mediterranean, and the one in front of her desk advertised a romantic gondola ride in Venice.
Purple post-it notes dotted her desktop with reminders about birthdays, future orders, and recipe ideas. A charming collection of Santas covered an antique table next to the window. The only illumination in the office radiated from the garlands of white lights hanging over the windows.
Lucy curled into a ball on the sofa, mumbling something nonsensical about apple pies. Her stomach interrupted her gibberish, choosing that moment to growl loudly. Nicholas frowned. Another grumble from her tummy convinced him she must be ravenous.
“Lucy, wake up, honey.”
“Hmm. Is it morning already?” Lucy rubbed her eyes.
“When was the last time you ate, Miss Brewster? Your stomach is growling like a lion.”
Lucy shrugged. “I was too busy today. I think I ate something for breakfast?” she answered sheepishly.
“Well, you’re not going to bed on an empty stomach. I’m going to whip up a little snack for you. In the meantime, take a nap. I’ll come and get you when your food is ready.”
Lucy was fast asleep before he was even out the door. Nicholas made his way to the kitchen and pulled a cell phone out of his shirt pocket. He pressed a single button and waited.
“Markus, I need a few things.”
“Sir, it’s midnight.”
“I’m aware of that. Nevertheless, I’m in the mood to cook. Meet me at the back door of Sweet Inspiration. Here’s what I need you to collect…” Nicholas rattled off a list of ingredients. His assistant was expedient, efficient, and used to his unusual demands. On more than one occasion, Nicholas had called him in the middle of the night to collaborate on some culinary experiment. Some were abject failures, some miraculous successes. Markus was always a good sport, and a most loyal friend.
Ten minutes later, there was a discreet knock at the back door. Nicholas opened it and looked down at his assistant, who was clutching a crate of fresh produce and herbs.
Markus’s ears twitched as he handed the crate to Nicholas. “Hungry tonight, sir? This is enough food to feed all of Glasdorf.”
“Spare me the commentary, Markus. Let’s get everything into the kitchen. Did you get the Mexican vanilla?”
“Yes, sir, and the organic chickens, Kashmiri saffron from India, fresh cream from Vermont …”
“Excellent. Let’s get to work. I want to prepare an elegant meal for Lucy Anne. After the hard work she did this evening, she deserves a treat.”
Markus blinked at Nicholas. “You’re doing all of this for a woman? The baker woman who makes the sugar cookies?”
“Yes, she is quite something, Markus. I’ve never met a woman like her.”
“She does seem rather unique. And her pastries are wonderful. Have you asked her what the secret ingredients are in those cookies?”
“Not yet. Let’s get to work. You start on the saffron chicken. I’ll chop the green beans.”
Markus handed him his favorite apron, and Nicholas began to hum as he assembled all of his ingredients.
This would be a feast that Lucy Anne Brewster would never forget.
Lucy was dreaming. Seated at a long formal table, she admired place settings of gleaming silver, sparkling crystal and rows of flickering candelabras. In front of her glittered a gold-rimmed plate, piled with delicious looking morsels of food. Nicholas leaned down and offered her a silver platter covered with hors d’oeuvres. She noticed immediately that Nicholas was naked. Since he was usually naked in her dreams, it did not seem that out of place, but this was the first time he offered her culinary treats in addition to his delicious body.
“Why, thank you, Nicholas. Are those mushroom crepes?”
“Lucy, wake up. Time to eat.”
“Yum, you look yummy…”
“Lucy, darling, what are you dreaming about?”
Lucy’s eyes snapped open and she lurched upright into a sitting position. Nicholas stood next to the sofa with a small smile on his face. “You must have been having a nice dream. What was so yummy?”
Before Lucy could respond, her stomach rumbled loudly. How embarrassing!
Nicholas laughed and pulled back the blankets. “I’m glad you’re still hungry, because I’ve prepared a midnight snack. Ready to eat?”
Lucy inhaled deeply. The scents coming from the kitchen were extraordinary. “Do I smell…roast chicken? Saffron? Is that it? Oh! I smell chocolate, too.”
“Right this way, Miss Brewster. I don’t want your dinner to get cold.” Nicholas reached for her hand and pulled her into the hallway.
Lucy looked down at their hands linked together and felt a rush in her chest. She gazed up into Nicholas’s smiling face. “That feels good.”
“What feels good, sweet?”
“Our hands. Together. It’s like…they fit together perfectly.” His large strong fingers curled around her tiny hand and squeezed gently.
“I agree. It’s hard to believe your little hands are capable of such gastronomic creations. They’re so tiny…well, they’re as tiny as elf hands.” Nicholas stopped suddenly, looking mildly uncomfortable.
“My mom used to say that, too. That I was as tiny as an…” Before Lucy could finish her thought, she stopped, speechless, staring into the café. All of the tables were pushed together and covered with a beautiful embroidered tablecloth. Elegant place settings for two surrounded a gorgeous roast chicken, nestled in clusters of pomegranates, lady apples and fresh herbs. Votive candles flickered along the length of the table. Tears filled Lucy’s eyes, and spilled down over her cheeks.
“What have you done, Nicholas?” she whispered in awe. Before she could take a breath, he was pulling back her chair, and seating her at the table. He filled a champagne flute in front of her plate, and leaned down to kiss her tear-stained cheeks.
“How could you do all of this? Where did you get all of this beautiful food? This is too much…I…I…”
Nicholas smiled mischievously. “A friend stopped by to help out. I couldn’t let you fall asleep with your stomach rumbling loud enough to wake the whole town. After enjoying your delicious cooking for the last two weeks, I thought it would be nice to return the favor. What do you think?”
For a second, Lucy thought she saw an expression on Nicholas’s face that looked a bit vulnerable. He’s worried I won’t like his cooking. “I think this is the most amazing thing anyone has ever done for me. Can you tell me what all of these incredible dishes are?”
“Of course. We have a saffron-roasted chicken, wild rice and a green bean vinaigrette, freshly baked rosemary bread with sweet cream butter from Vermont, and French champagne with pomegranate seeds. For dessert, I’ve made pears poached in white wine and thyme, and a bit of home-made hot chocolate, made with the finest chocolate from Switzerland.”
Lucy stared at Nicholas in astonishment. “Have you really been to all of those places? France, Vermont, Switzerland?”
“Oh yes, of course. Traveling around the world and tasting culinary treasures from different regions is my favorite hobby. It’s very inspirational for me as a chef.”
Lucy shook her head and looked down into her lap. “I’m embarrassed to say I’ve never left New York State. I’ve gone to the city a few times, but I felt so intimidated that I didn’t stay long. Someday I would love to travel, to taste exotic foods from every country.”
“You’ll really enjoy it, Lucy. It will open your eyes to a whole new world.” Nicholas tilted up her chin with his
fingers. “So those travel posters in your office are fantasy adventures?”
Lucy nodded. “Hopefully someday. My employees make fun of me for dreaming about my ‘world travels,’ when the truth is I seem to be having a hard time leaving Eston.”
“Well, it’s something to look forward to, n’est-ce pas?” Nicholas gestured to the table. “Ready to eat?” he asked softly.
“Yes, please. Everything looks delicious.”
Nicholas lifted the champagne flute to her lips, and she took a swallow, enjoying the fizzy bubbles of the sparkling wine. He winked at her, then began to carve the chicken with a professional looking carving knife. “What would you like to try first?”
“Everything! I want all of it. You’re joining me, right?”
“Of course, I have a hearty chef’s appetite after preparing this feast. Let’s dig in.”
The next hour was bliss. Nicholas continued to heap Lucy’s plate with all of his decadent dishes. The green beans were crisp and vibrant, tossed with a fruity olive oil and sherry vinegar. The rice had a lovely nutty flavor. He served her rich hot chocolate with a dollop of vanilla-infused whipped cream, playfully licking some off her lips after he spooned it into her mouth. He hand fed her pieces of the fragrant bread, and then brushed imaginary crumbs from her face. Every subtle touch had her shivering and impatient for more.
During the meal, Lucy peppered him with questions about his cooking techniques, unusual ingredients, and his travels around the world. She realized that she probably sounded like a provincial star-struck groupie, but Nicholas’s travel stories were marvelous and fed her thirst for adventure.
“Oh, I almost forgot. I have a little something for you.” He leaned down and pulled a covered basket from under the table. “I’ll think you’ll like it.”
Lucy blinked as she stared at the container. “You got me a gift? Really?”
Nicholas laughed at her surprise. “Don’t you ever get gifts, Lucy Anne?”
“Not very often.” She looked down at the table to hide her teary eyes. “Thank you.”
Nicholas leaned close to her and gently brushed an errant curl from her cheek. “Why don’t you open it up and see what it is?”
