Beauty and the Feast

by Julia Barrett

  “Monday,” he replied.

  “Of course,” he heard Eva say. Did he detect disappointment in her voice?

  “Well,” Gabe tried to make his tone apologetic, “I’m sorry to have awakened you. Goodnight Miss Raines.”

  “Eva.”

  “Goodnight, Eva.”

  “Night, Gabe.”

  Gabe closed his phone. Interesting, he thought with a grin. I’ve never even seen the woman and just the idea of her in a bed somewhere gives me a hard-on. He wondered again what she looked like. Something about her sounded like a redhead, or a brunet. He flipped open his phone and dialed Luis’ number. Luis picked up after seven rings.

  “Hola, Señor Abbott. What can I do for you this time of night?”

  “Sorry to call so late Luis, but I wanted to make sure things are going well with the caterer I’ve hired for this weekend.”

  “Oh yes, Señor Abbott, Eva. Yes, very well. Very well.”

  Luis sounded enthusiastic. He wasn’t a particularly outgoing man. It was one of the reasons he and Gabe got along so well. They both appreciated silence and solitude.

  “So you’ve met her?”

  “Oh yes, Señor. She’s been here twice. She was here at six this morning.”

  No wonder his call had awakened her.

  “How does she seem, Luis?” Is she as lovely as she sounds? “I mean, is she competent?”

  “From what I can tell, she seems quite competent.”

  Gabe wanted to ask more about the mysterious Miss Raines, but he feared Luis would get the wrong impression. Or maybe the right impression.

  “Is there anything else, Señor Abbott?”

  “Did she… did she have any problems finding the place?”

  “Oh, she rode past the house a few times, but she found the private lane quickly enough. It was a long, hard ride on a warm day.”

  Gabe blinked. “Eva rides a motorcycle?”

  “No, Señor, she rode her mountain bike up here the first time. I believe she had ridden up to Calistoga and she was on her way back to Napa. Today she drove her car.”

  “All right. Thanks Luis. Sorry to bother you. Please apologize to your sister for me if I woke her up. Goodnight.”

  “Buenos noches, Señor Abbott.”

  Well, well, well…she rides a mountain bike, thought Gabe. Luis is absolutely right, the hill is long and steep, a hard ride even for me. His little chef must be in very good shape. Miss Eva Raines was becoming more intriguing by the minute. The words a long, hard ride evoked an altogether different image in his mind. Gabe stifled a groan as he adjusted his trousers. He found his desire to bring Stephanie Lindstrom to his cottage diminishing in direct proportion to the increasing size of his erection. Gabe glanced at his watch. It probably wasn’t too late to call her back, but it was definitely too late to come up with a reasonable excuse to cancel. He toyed with the notion of taking an early morning drive into Napa. Eva would probably be working in his kitchen most of the day. He could meet her and still make it back to the city in time to pick up Stephanie.

  Crap. Gabe remembered he’d scheduled a ten o’clock breakfast meeting with his accountant. That would take at least a couple of hours and he’d been hoping to get in a bike ride before he had to get home, pack a few items of clothing, and clean up for dinner. Getting a look at his little chef would have to wait. Now he was left wondering exactly how far he wanted to take things with Stephanie.

  Chapter Four

  Eva put in her ear buds and clicked on her iPod. She cranked the volume way up. The Allman Brothers Live at the Fillmore. Jimmy Hendrix. Eric Clapton. Tom Petty. B.B. King. She’d thrown in some Eagles and Credence so she could sing along. Eva preferred to listen to the old guitarists when she was cooking. It kept her energized. She flipped the play list to random and began the task of putting together everything she’d prepped the previous day. She planned the menu to be the essence of simplicity. She wanted to keep the flavors of the food light and clean.

  It seemed pretty clear to Eva that Mr. Abbott intended this to be a seduction dinner. During her visit on Friday, she’d taken the liberty of exploring the loft that doubled as his bedroom. She told herself that she was just doing her job, but at the same time, she couldn’t help but give in to the curiosity she felt about the man—the curiosity that had only been increased by his late phone call. After she’d said goodnight, Eva had tossed and turned. For the first time in a long, long time, she’d felt, well, aroused. She’d wondered what the man looked like. His voice had the same rich tone as deep, dark maple syrup, and it was just as smooth. The sound of the man had actually given her an idea about an addition to the treats she planned to leave in his bedroom. She’d already wondered how often he slept in the cottage and she’d been concerned that his bedding might be a little musty. If it was she Gabriel Abbott intended to seduce, she’d want to be made love to on crisp, clean, fresh-smelling sheets.

  Gabriel Abbott’s bedroom was quintessentially masculine. The walls were painted a taupe, almost a mushroom, plain, stark, clean, like the rest of the cottage. His dresser was black, the hardware brushed steel. In the corner near a floor to ceiling window, sat a desk with a computer, a few pencils and a pad of paper, nothing else. At the foot of the bed was a large chest. Eva lifted the lid slightly and inhaled. Her nose was assailed by the scents of leather and wool. She lifted the lid higher and leaned over the chest for a moment. In her mind’s eye, she watched a tall, faceless man with a hard muscled frame, pull on a favorite wool sweater and toss a worn soft, brown, leather jacket over one shoulder. The idea made Eva shiver. She quietly closed the lid.

  The bed, a wrought iron, four-poster queen-sized bed, looked scrumptious. After checking to make sure Luis wasn’t in the vicinity, Eva threw herself across the mahogany-colored duvet. She wiggled deep into the quilt, hoping to catch the man’s scent, but it didn’t seem as if anyone had slept there recently. His housekeeper, if he had one, had probably washed the bedding after his last visit.

  Gabriel Abbott certainly appreciated comfort. Eva figured his mattress must be top of the line. No matter which position she lay in, it felt as if the bed hugged her, supported her every curve. It was an utterly delicious sensation. She lay there a long time, imagining the man who would be using the bed this weekend. It was with great reluctance that she climbed down and stripped the linens.

  Eva tried to view her work dispassionately, yet she couldn’t help but picture herself as the recipient of what she imagined would be Gabriel Abbott’s undivided attention. Eva wondered what, exactly, Gabriel Abbott’s undivided attention would involve, and she felt a tingle slide up and down the length of her spine. She stood still for just a moment, the sheets bunched in her arms, before she decided she’d better get a move on. She tossed the sheets in his washing machine and hung the remainder of the bedding in the sun that shone on the patio. Eva hoped Mr. Abbott, and whoever his guest was, would appreciate her extra effort, but she wasn’t counting on it. She was quite certain they’d have other things on their minds.

  Now, working in the kitchen, she remembered remaking his bed, smoothing the sheets, turning down the quilts, plumping the pillows to make the bed even more inviting. She’d already set up a small table at his bedside. She’d covered it with a linen cloth and placed a galvanized tin bucket on top, ready to be filled with ice for the sparkling wine she’d brought. She hadn’t found exactly what she had in mind among Mr. Abbott’s wines, so she’d looked through her own collection and pulled out a bottle of one of her favorite French champagnes made from Rose grapes. Its color was indeed a lovely rose, the color of love, the color, when you got right down to it, of a woman. Eva thought it would be perfect. The wine was crisp, not too sweet, not too dry, with a nice, long, smooth finish. She’d already carried up two champagne flutes and she’d left room on the table for the dessert Gabriel would serve his guest.

  Music blasting in her ears, Eva headed into the garden to pick the herbs she needed while the air was still cool. She spotted
Luis cleaning the pool and she gave him a smile and a wave. He waved back. She watched his mouth moving and she realized he was speaking to her. Eva couldn’t hear a word he said. She pulled the ear buds out and approached him.

  “Buenos días, Eva,” Luis said.

  “Buenos días, Luis. Cómo está?” she replied.

  “Bien. Y usted?”

  “Muy bien. What time do you expect Mr. Abbott?”

  Luis shrugged. “Later. He called last night.”

  “Oh? He called me too.”

  Luis’ eyebrows lifted slightly. “This dinner must be important to him,” he commented.

  Eva hesitated for a moment, then she asked, “Do you know who his guest is?”

  “Yo no se. I have heard nothing.”

  “Well,” Eva responded, “I hope what I’ve planned meets with his expectations.”

  Luis gave her a reassuring pat on the arm. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

  Eva found that she liked the older man very much. “Why don’t you come in and taste later? I plan to make more than enough. Please, come into the kitchen, maybe around two o’clock, and taste. I would love your opinion.”

  “I don’t know that I have much of an opinion about food, but I will be honored to taste anything you make,” Luis said with a smile.

  Eva laughed. Luis reminded her of a more serious version of her father. He didn’t have much of an opinion about food either, but he knew what he liked. Eva had used him to test recipes when she was a teenager.

  Eva picked her herbs and returned to the kitchen. She completed each course in the same order it would be served, setting aside a small portion of everything for Luis. Between the music and her intense focus, time flew by. Hours later, Eva glanced up and she found Luis standing in the open kitchen door, literally hat in hand, staring at her with an amused expression on his face.

  “Oh my gosh,” she exclaimed. “What time is it?”

  “Three.”

  “How long have you been standing there?”

  Luis smiled. “I looked in an hour ago, but you didn’t notice me, so I went back to work weeding the garden.”

  Eva laughed. “All right, I’m almost done. C’mon. I’ve got a tray prepared for you and you’re going to taste, right now, before I get distracted by anything else. I’ll meet you on the patio.”

  Eva opened the refrigerator and grabbed the tray. She’d replicated the entire meal for Luis. This was the first time she’d been hired to act as private chef for someone with Gabriel Abbott’s reputation. She wanted everything to be perfect. Luis may not be a gourmand, but his reaction would be telling. Eva watched his face as he tasted the first course, her chilled melon soup. She’d pureed honeydew melon, a tiny bit of sea salt, a few splashes of a light German Riesling, a squeeze of lime, half a seeded Serrano chili, cilantro and a bit of palm sugar. The soup was garnished with a sprig of fresh mint from Gabriel’s herb garden. Luis closed his eyes and rolled the puree around in his mouth as if tasting a fine wine. Eva almost expected him to spit it out.

  Finally he declared, “Exquisita,” and he finished the soup quickly.

  Eva grinned as she handed him the next course.

  Chapter Five

  Saturday turned out to be sunny with just a slight crisp feel in the air, perfect, especially for the Bay Area in the late spring. Gabe was very tempted to ride his Harley, but instead, he drove his SUV Hybrid. He doubted Stephanie would be up for a bad case of helmet hair. Gabe knew she expected to spend the night with him. He hadn’t asked her, but neither had he disabused her of the notion. By the time he pulled up in front of her building and parked his car, he had decided to play the evening by ear. He might as well, he thought. He couldn’t get out of it anyway. Maybe he would regain some of the initial interest he’d had in fucking her. When she opened her door wearing a low-cut pale peach sundress and high-heeled sandals, Gabe assessed the woman appreciatively. Not bad. Not too bad at all. Things might just work out between the two of them, at least for the night. He decided that all options were back on the table, so to speak.

  Gabe kept up his end of the conversation on the drive to Napa, but as he usually did until he knew a woman well, he was careful not to disclose too much too soon. They chatted about business, family, plays she’d seen recently, clubs and restaurants she favored. Stephanie flirted, not shamelessly, but she made it clear she was interested. Gabe wondered how old she was. Thirty? He stole a sidelong glance at her face. Twenty-eight, maybe. It was hard to tell. She’d put on large sunglasses the minute they’d stepped outside her apartment building. He noticed that her dress had ridden up her thigh, exposing a great deal of skin. Gabe didn’t know if that had happened deliberately or by accident, but he suspected the former. She didn’t seem to be in any hurry to adjust it.

  Gabe found it odd that the closer they got to his Napa Valley home, the less enthusiasm he felt for Stephanie’s company. He caught himself wishing he’d decided to spend the weekend by himself. It disturbed him. Usually a woman this attractive would kick his lust into overdrive. Damn, he thought, what the hell is my problem?

  “Oh my God, your place is gorgeous,” Stephanie said, stepping inside the front door. “Who did you hire to decorate for you?”

  Gabe shrugged. “Most of the interior work had been completed when I bought it. I just added a few pieces and hired a gardener.”

  As Stephanie wandered from room to room, Gabe glanced around, curious, wondering if Eva had left any hint of herself, a stray hair, perhaps, a whiff of fragrance if she wore any. Something he could gauge her by. He was eager to check out his bedroom to see what she had planned for him. He escorted Stephanie onto the patio and pulled out a chair for her. After assuring her he’d give her a tour of his gardens, he excused himself for a moment. He took the stairs leading to the loft two at a time.

  She’d remade his bed. That was the first thing Gabe noticed. She’d plumped his pillows, turned down the quilts. He leaned over and inhaled… Gabe smiled. He caught her. She’d been there. She’d lain on his bed. His little chef had lain on the duvet. He could smell her. Curious, was she? Gabe inhaled again, running his palm across the soft cover. Amber. Cinnamon. Chilies. Mint. Chocolate. Coffee. Musk. Like a fine wine. God, Eva smelled fuckable. He looked around. She’d set up a table at his bedside. On it sat a galvanized tin bucket filled with ice and a bottle of what looked like French champagne. He grabbed the bottle by the neck and pulled it up to check out the label. She had good taste. It was of his favorites. He wondered how she knew. Sitting in the ice next to the bottle of champagne was a bowl of fresh strawberries. He popped one into his mouth. The sweet-tart flavor exploded on his tongue. Just picked from his garden. She’d probably left moments before they’d arrived.

  Alongside the bucket, she’d placed a plate of delicate shortbread cookies. Beside the cookies were two candles. Suspended above each candle on a metal rack sat a ceramic bowl. Each bowl was filled with something that looked like ice cream topping. Gabe assumed she intended them to light the candles and dip the cookies into the bowls or maybe spread the warm stuff on… Gabe stuck his little finger into one of the bowls and brought it to his mouth. He tasted maple, caramel, maybe a little balsamic vinegar, and the barest hint of salt. The second bowl contained a deep, dark, delightfully bittersweet chocolate mixture. He recognized the flavor of his own Cabernet. Gabe took another taste of each. He felt himself grow very erect very quickly. He knew exactly who he wanted to spread the stuff on and it wasn’t Stephanie Lindstrom.

  “Gabriel?” Stephanie called to him from the foot of the stairs. “Gabriel, are you up there?”

  He heard her begin to ascend. He quickly adjusted his jeans and hurried downstairs to meet her.

  “Sorry,” he said, meeting her eyes, “Just picking up a message.” He quickly steered her toward the kitchen. Gabe’s initial impulse was to distract her by suggesting that they select a wine together, but he realized that wouldn’t be fair. To her. Gabe wondered if he’d lost interest because he’d
been so busy lately, but he dismissed the thought. Business had never before interfered with pleasure of this type. He’d lost interest because his interest lay elsewhere.

  Gabe took Stephanie’s arm. He turned her toward him and he studied her face. She returned his gaze, confident, poised, eager. For a moment he faltered. She expected him to take her to bed.

  Why on earth, he asked himself, can’t I do that? She’s beautiful, intelligent, successful. And it doesn’t have to mean all that much.

  “Stephanie,” Gabe said, “I’m taking you home.”

  “Wha…what?” she stuttered.

  “I’m sorry. I’m taking you back to the city.”

  “Why? What’s happened?”

  Gabe ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t explain,” he said. “Look, I feel terrible about this, but tonight just isn’t going to work out.”

  “Are you seeing someone else, Gabriel? That message you picked up… was it from a woman?”

  “No,” replied Gabe quickly. “It’s nothing like that. I’m not seeing anyone else.”

  “I don’t understand.” Gabe heard the anger and the hurt in Stephanie’s voice.

  “Look, Stephanie, I can’t explain. Something’s come up. There’s something I have to take care of. I’m sorry. I’ll try to make it up to you.” Who knows? Maybe I will, he thought. Just not tonight.

  They drove back to San Francisco in silence. Uncomfortable silence. He grabbed the small bag Stephanie had brought and escorted her to the door of her apartment. When he leaned over to kiss her cheek in apology, he caught the resentment in her eyes. He fully expected her to pull away, but she didn’t. She turned her mouth to his and kissed him with all the passion she could muster. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body against his. Gabe felt nothing but embarrassment as he gently disengaged himself. He wasn’t quite sure who he was more embarrassed for, Stephanie for kissing him so wantonly, or himself for his inability to respond to a beautiful woman. He wondered what in the hell was wrong with him. He squeezed her hand.