“Go on.” I felt suspicious.
“You should become a chef.”
“What? You’re crazy!”
“No. Hear me out. You LOVE cooking.” (She had a point.)
“You LOVE trying new recipes.” (True that.)
“You don’t know how to cook for less than an army.”
(That was Nonna’s way, and I had learned from her.)
“And everything you make is fabulous.” (Well … even I had to admit that.)
Natalie pointed her fork at me.
“I think you are totally missing your true calling. Look at how you not only learned three completely new cuisines in the last few weeks, but also mastered them. And look at how you can pull together even the simplest dinner party and make it look effortless.”
I considered this. Was I missing my “true calling”? Sure my TV was permanently tuned to the Food Network, and my bookshelves were lined with cookbooks. And sure, I could throw together almost any variety of pasta at a moment’s notice without even blinking. But do it for a living? No. People had real jobs for a living.
But being a chef WAS a real job!
Not for me, though, right? My folks didn’t scrimp to augment my college scholarships just so I could throw my chosen career out the window. No. I picked a path and had to follow it. I could cook for my friends and eventually (hopefully) my husband and family, but that had to be a hobby not a career.
“That all sounds nice to dream about, Natalie, but we live in the real world.”
Natalie shook her head as she finished her iced tea.
“I don’t know Alex. The food you make tastes pretty real to me!”
“In any case, we need to stick to the project at hand.” I said as we stood to leave the deli. “Media
Resolutions—who are we today?”
Chapter Nine
Leaning back in my desk chair, staring at my computer screen, I was reflecting on what Natalie said when my phone rang.
“Hello, may I speak with the fourth-grade jump rope queen?”
“Damian! How are you, my darling brother?”
“Excited to attend my upcoming retreat.”
“Uh … and see your baby sister?”
“Oh sure. That, too,” he said. His tone was teasing, but I know he was as happy to visit me as I was to see him.
“Just confirming with you the final time to pick me up at the airport this evening.”
“I’ll be there at 6:30, so have your luggage and gear ready to hop in my little car.”
“Great.” He paused. “So … think we can stop at Govnr’s Park for a burger on the way?”
I laughed. If it were anyone else, I would be insulted that he wouldn’t want a homemade meal at my place, but since he was coming from home where he could get Nonna’s and Ma’s cooking anytime he wanted it, I couldn’t feel hurt.
“You bet. As a matter of fact, I’ll get some of my pals together for a dinner.”
“Will Keira be there?” Damian had a soft spot for Keira ever since the first time she came home with me from college.
“Father Damian! Should you be inquiring after a lady friend?” I said in mock shock.
“Come on, Alex, you know she’s as much of a little sis as you are,” he countered. “I just want to make sure things are going well for her and her mom.”
That’s one of the things that made Damian such a good priest. He had a genuine caring for people and their problems in life. Ever since he was a kid, he had that kind streak in him, and it was no shock to the family that he entered the seminary. (Although my arm still felt the pain of many twists during my childhood, and I swear I could still feel many a noogie on my head. Oh well, brothers and sisters!)
“Keira’s in San Francisco, but I know her mom would appreciate a call from her favorite priest while you are here.”
“Awesome! I’ll see you at 6:30, Sis!”
Elliott popped his head over the cubicle.
“Did I hear you say you’re picking up Damian this evening?”
“Yep. Dinner at Govnr’s Park at about 7:30? Natalie, you in?” I called over the other cubicle.
“Count me in. I love the Gov.”
“Oh are we getting a group together for an outing this evening?”
How is it that Cameron Grayson appeared just when we were making social plans?
“Alexandria’s brother is coming to town, and we’re meeting tonight for dinner. You in?” Elliott came around the desk and grinned at me behind Cam’s back.
“That sounds like fun, meeting Alex’s sibling. Sure, I’ll be there. I’d love to share some Alexandria stories.”
Cam continued on his way down the hall.
“Ow … Oww!” That was Elliott as I pinched his ear and pulled his face closer to mine.
“What is it with you? Are you and Cam blood brothers or something now? Did you lose a bet? Why must you bring him with you everywhere you go?”
Elliott rubbed his ear.
“Sorry, Ali. I like the guy, and you would too if you gave him half a chance.”
“Why do I need to? He’s temporary … TEMPORARY … and as soon as Jim gets back, he’ll be gone from here as quickly as he came.”
“Sheesh. Why so crabby? You know,” he paused, “I like you better when you ADMIT that you’ve fallen for a guy. There’s a better vibe around here.”
“What? I told you I haven’t fallen for Mr. Green Eyes!”
“Pretty strong reaction, don’t you think?”
I bent over my work and stopped to think before I spoke. Obviously Elliott wanted to lure me into a junior high level discussion wherein the more I would protest, the more he would say, “The lady doth protest too much,” and I would be backed into a corner in mere moments. No, this time I would not fall into a trap.
“You’re right, Elliott, I’ve fallen totally madly passionately in love with Cam Grayson. Why the mere thought of him makes me all a-twitter.”
“Alexandria …”
That was Natalie, interrupting my sarcastic tirade.
“No, Natalie, don’t try to stop me. I have to let my true feelings out. I have fallen head over heels for his crisp brown hair, his flashing green eyes—”
“Alexandria!”
“Oh, no, let me go on. I must state unequivocally that Cam Grayson is the perfect male specimen.”
I wheeled my desk chair back and spun directly into the object of my flattery.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say ‘perfect,’ necessarily,” said Cam, attempting to hide a grin. “But on a scale of one to ten—”
“You are a negative twelve!”
Red-faced, I whipped back around to my computer and began typing furiously, listening to the sound of his laughter as he walked down the hall. Elliott and Natalie both scurried around the cubicle walls in glee.
“Not another word from you two!”
“Ha. Just wait until we share that particular little tale with Damian this evening!”
With any luck, that particular escapade would miss being table talk at dinner.
“Keira, I think my job is a metaphor for my life.” Keira’s sisterly laughter spilled through my Bluetooth earpiece as I drove to the airport.
“Seriously, Alex? How can that be? You know you’re more organized than any three people I know.” She had listened to me grumble about the randomness of our CEO and founder often enough to know the trials of our company.
“I don’t know. I just feel like I’m not as settled as I should be.”
“Do you want my true opinion?”
“You know, that always sounds like it is going to be helpful, but when people start that way, they’re going to say something negative.”
“Not necessarily. Maybe they’re going to say the most positive thing in the world.”
“Really? Go ahead.”
“Well, you do have a tendency to act impulsively.”
Ouch.
“But all in all, you do go about things in an orderly fashion.”
; What on earth could that mean? That was the worst nonstatement statement ever.
“Explain, please,”
“Settle down. I see you squishing your mouth up to one side and squinting your eyes.”
“I am not!” I quickly unsquished and unsquinted.
She continued, “It’s like when we had a single discussion about you emphasizing one type of cooking, you immediately decided that you would attempt to cook other cuisines for your dates.”
“Yes, but I didn’t just blindly decide to—”
“Calm down, you asked for my opinion.”
“Yes, but I am just pointing out that I am not some lemming who doesn’t have my own opinions.”
“Oh, no one can accuse you of that!”
“Ha! All right then,” I said with exaggerated patience. “Continue.”
“Well, once you decided to do what I said—”
“Keira!”
“Sorry, Touchy McTouchikins. Once you decided to do what YOU decided to do, you were very precise in your tactics. You got the very finest recipes from Mrs. Olikara for your date with John Faris—oh, and his date.”
I could feel her trying to hold back a smile, but I managed to not make a comment.
“And when you wanted to go all Southern Belle, you got recipes from the best southern cook there is. And you practically flew to Mumbai to learn the best Indian recipes and get the right spices.”
All that was very true.
“I guess I see what you’re saying. And, really, three experiments are not enough to show a true pattern, right?”
“Of course not. You’ll probably make lots more mistakes.”
“Hey!”
Keira laughed. “Admit it, you even kind of like the drama. Life would be too boring without it.”
She had a point, but a bit of calm every now and then would be welcome.
“Yeah, but recently the most drama has been the worst foot-in-mouth variety.”
“How so?”
I recounted that afternoon’s incident where I professed my “love” for Cam Grayson only to discover him standing behind me. Keira offered the appropriate gasps, so that by the time we finished discussing it, I could even laugh about it.
“Oh, Keir, I’ll be so glad when you get back home next week.”
“Um, actually, I’ll be staying for another several weeks.”
“What? How messed up is that company? You never have to take this long to finish an installation.”
“Oh well, you know, things happen.”
I didn’t want to push, since Keira had a tendency to shut down if I pushed too hard.
“Okaaay. So do you have a guess as to when you’ll be back?”
“Not right now.” Her tone was guarded. “I know I’ll miss Natalie and Sam’s wedding. I’ll call her to talk to
her about it.”
“What?” I stopped. I wasn’t being supportive of my best friend. “All right, honey. Let me know when you find out. Is there anything you need for me to do?”
“No, no. You know I’d let you know.”
I could sense she wanted to switch topics so I said,
“Anyway, I’m just about at the pickup area, and I need to concentrate on looking for Damian so I’ll let you go. Talk to you soon?”
She sounded relieved. “Great, Al. Give him hugs and kisses from me. Love ya!”
“Love ya.”
“Hey, Sis!”
I jumped from my car to reach up and hug and kiss my handsome brother standing on the curb. He looked like a Colorado native garbed in jeans, fleece pullover, and hiking boots. After negotiating his bags into my tiny car, we headed off for downtown.
Within minutes, he had adjusted his lanky frame, reset my radio presets, and managed to free a package of TastyKakes—fresh from back home!—from his duffel bag in the back seat. All the while, he didn’t miss a beat in updating me on family goings-on.
“So Dad got the contract to provide the indoor plants for the new county building, and Anthony is doing the landscaping. Nonna swears that it was her prayers that led to such a great windfall for the family business.”
“What do you think?”
“Well, considering the line of work I’m in, you know I think that the prayers certainly had a big influence. But I think the tangible expression of those prayers was all of Anthony’s hard work in the presentations.”
As the eldest, Anthony felt the double-edged sword of not letting the family nursery business fail, yet at the same time having a college education, which our blue-collar parents felt was so important for the three of us. He managed to parlay the love of plants that he inherited from Dad into a degree in landscape management, and his natural head for numbers into a second degree in business. His expansion of the original nursery into a landscape contracting business had taken several years to get off the ground, but was now starting to pay off.
“How is Elisabetta?”
“Ah! Now there is the true proof of the power of Nonna’s prayers!”
Anthony had married his girlfriend, Celia, right after college. She was a vivacious gal who immediately started working in the family business and became a favorite of our parents. Both wanted a big family, but their first child, Elisabetta, was not born until six months ago.
“She is a chubby little cherub! You should see how she smiles, and her little blue eyes sparkle when she listens to music—like yours did.”
“Damian, you are not that much older than me that you can remember what I was like as an infant.”
“What? Wasn’t that just last year?”
I moved my hand from the wheel and swatted him.
Although there were just two years separating us, and another two years between him and Anthony, both of my brothers had always been very protective of me and felt that they were much older and wiser.
“Anyway, FATHER, tell me again what this trip is about?”
“It’s a retreat, actually, for college students who are thinking about joining our order,” he said, suddenly switching from my teasing older brother to a man of the cloth. “We have guest speakers from around the country. I’m leading a couple of sessions. I’m also leading the music.”
We drove silently for a couple of miles, both probably thinking about the same thing: how Damian had once been so intent on becoming a rock singer. Somehow, though, when that opportunity fell through, he had done enough soul searching to know that he was called to be a priest.
“Turn this up. This song is awesome!” Rock lyrics filled my car, and the man of the cloth immediately switched back to my rock star big brother, who was using the interior of the auto as a drum kit.
“I hope you’re hungry, dude, because there is a burger with your name on it at Govnr’s Park!”
“Over here!”
I looked through the bustling pub and saw Natalie and her fiancé waving us over to a booth. We moved our way through the crush and piled in.
“Hey, guys, you remember my brother Damian.”
They greeted him, then Natalie said, “Elliott and Cam are over shooting pool.”
I must have pulled a face, because Damian looked at Natalie, then me.
“What? Who is Cam? Tell me everything. Leave out nothing.”
“He is NO ONE. And once again, why does Elliott drag him around like a teddy bear these days?”
“Cam is the Object of Alexandria’s Affection.”
“Natalie!”
“Ho there! How did THIS not come up in an entire drive from the airport, Ally-Cat?” Damian waggled his eyebrows at me.
“He is the object of NO ONE’S affection, just a temporary employee at our company, and has the unfortunate knack of showing up in my conversations at the most inopportune moments.”
Damian stood and smiled mischievously. “Ah, little sister, it is my brotherly duty to vet your prospective suitors. I shall go immediately to the pool table and ask what his intentions are.”
“Damian. DAMIAN!” I slouched down. “Oh what’s the use
? He’s going to just go be his usual D’Agostino self. I’ll stay here and comfort myself with a martini.”
“Good idea,” said Sam, Natalie’s husband-to- be. Sam was a car salesman at the local Mercedes dealership. He was stocky and given to spending hours at the gym maintaining his physique. He was a good sport about listening to many hours of software marketing gossip when out with Natalie and myself, and was a very decent guy. He, along with my brothers, gave me hope that there were some good ones out there.
The unlikely trio of Cam, Elliott, and Damian strolled over to the table doubled over in laughter.
“I do not like the looks of this. What could you three musketeers have been up to?”
“Oh, we were just chatting with a couple of girls by the pool table, and Elliott told them we were triplets,” said Cam.
I looked from one to another of three similarly dark heads. With Damian’s bright blue eyes and Cam’s green ones, I might believe brothers, but Elliott’s charcoal black eyes would call that story into question. They were all handsome, though, and I could see how the girls would swoon.
“Were these girls wearing blindfolds by chance?” Natalie asked.
Damian shrugged his shoulders in a palms-up fashion and moved to the jukebox to play some tunes.
“Really, Elliott, you are incorrigible. And I’m pretty sure that Damian’s bishop would not appreciate him being a wingman, even passively.” I shook my head.
“Why would a bishop care what he does on his vacation?” Cam asked as he slid in next to me, a little closely for my taste, as I remembered my profession of “love” for him earlier in the day.
The rest of the table burst into laughter.
“Damian is sort of never on vacation,” said Natalie.
“He actually answers to a higher power,” said Elliott, eyes and finger pointing upward.
“What? You mean—” Cam looked among us, settling on me. His eyes widened as the truth dawned on him. “You mean your brother is a father?”
“Well, both my brothers are fathers”—the others laughed harder—“but Damian is the kind of father who usually wears a collar.”
“Damn! I mean darn!” He looked around as if to see if Damian was watching. “Elliott was trying to use a priest as a wingman.” Cam shifted uncomfortably in his seat. I was enjoying watching him in this new role of uncomfortable. He whipped his head to Elliott.
Love on the Back Burner Page 7
