“Yum,” Haldana said. “Love me some Persian food.”
“Good stuff,” Yakima agreed.
“So, Bax?” Haldana’s tone was expectant. “What did you think?”
Yakima reminded herself that she was speaking to the man’s cousin, practically his sister, really. “Have you seen him since he came back?”
“No. He’s been holed up in his new house. I talked to him once. That’s when I told him I worked with you.”
The kitchen’s phone rang. Thankfully. They needed business. She hit the speakerphone button. “Yakima Catering.”
“Yakima, dear,” said a cracked, elderly voice.
Yakima recognized the voice instantly. It belonged to her old piano teacher, widow of the town’s former general practitioner. “Mrs. Roth! How good to hear from you.”
“You’re sweet, dear. Is your catering business open?”
“Just started Monday officially.” Yakima pointed at the tofu, then the glass container that already had a marinade ready. The tofu was going to be turned into buffalo-style appetizers that she was taking to a city council meeting in order to network. Haldana nodded and started dropping the tofu cubes into the marinade.
“Well, my arthritis is acting up, but I need to have Christmas cookies for my grandchildren. They are coming over Sunday afternoon. My son only has them on Sundays.”
Yakima knew all about that divorce, the wife who’d been caught red-handed in bed with the mechanic who’d long babied her elderly BMW. “Such a pity, Mrs. Roth. Do you want me to decorate them for you?”
“Oh yes. Nothing absolutely spectacular, you understand, but I think there will be six children. Maybe you could make hot chocolate, too?”
“I have a great recipe. Much better than powder,” she assured Mrs. Roth.
“What will you charge me?”
She glanced at Haldana, who shrugged. One or both of them was going to have a very busy Sunday morning, but they could bake the cookies today or tomorrow morning. She named a figure, and thankfully, Mrs. Roth agreed.
“Wonderful. I’ll bring them over Sunday, about fifteen minutes before you want them, so that the hot chocolate is a perfect temperature,” Yakima said as Haldana pumped her fist.
“Thank you.”
Yakima hung up. She ought to bring over a contract and have it signed, but she doubted Mrs. Roth would cheat her.
“That’s exciting. One week in business and two jobs already.”
“It’s not enough.”
“I’ll keep cooking at the teriyaki place until you can take me on full-time,” Haldana assured her. “It’s not the kind of food I want to do, but everyone’s nice and they are flexible with my hours.”
Yakima rattled a jingle bell on the two-foot plastic Christmas tree in the center of her worktable. She’d feel more in the holiday spirit if she had money coming in. “Do you think it was a mistake to start my business here? Should I have moved down into Vancouver or even Portland?”
“Not at all. You already own your house and it doesn’t make sense to uproot yourself from your family.”
“I just wonder how much business we’re going to get. I’ve been driving my van around for two weeks and the only call came from Bax so far.”
“He’s a good start. I’m sure he’ll be in contact with musicians in Portland and Seattle. We can cater parties along the I-5 corridor.”
“Caterer to the local music industry? But Bax hasn’t released an album in six years. Is he still relevant?” He’d always be a rock god to her generation, after two Number Ones with his first band, and then his huge solo summer hit that reigned on the charts for over a month eight years ago, and all the other Top Forty hits, but still. Six years.
“He moved into production after his wrist fusion surgery,” Haldana said. “He can’t play at a professional level anymore.”
Yakima felt physical pain in her stomach at the news. “You’re kidding. Why not?”
“He lost flexibility, but at least it doesn’t hurt anymore. And he stopped taking the opioids.” She shuddered. “You know that’s an addiction that can kill people.”
Oh, shoot. Opioids. She shuddered. Poor Bax. “Why don’t I know any of this?”
“We didn’t know about it either,” Haldana admitted, as she covered the marinade and put the container into the refrigerator. “He didn’t tell anyone, but I know he had trouble on his last world tour five years ago. That’s when he was taking the painkillers. He had a medical exam when he was in rehab and decided to have his wrist fused after he learned how badly damaged the joint was.”
Yakima’s heart rate had sped up as layer after layer of bad news was relayed. “Bye-bye career.”
“It was a rough time. We didn’t know he was in rehab until after it was over, and he didn’t even mention the surgery. Uncle Harry thought he’d quit music to escape the drug scene. He even went down to Los Angeles when he heard Bax had signed up to produce The Dealy Band.”
“Aren’t they country?”
“Yeah. Bax had a plane ticket to Nashville the same day Uncle Harry arrived. Luckily they overlapped by a couple of hours and he explained everything.”
“When was that?”
“Three years ago. He lived in Nashville for two years and produced both of their albums, but now the leader singer is a new mom and they are on hiatus. So he went back to Los Angeles.”
“And now, all of a sudden, he’s in Battlefield after twelve years away. Sounds strange to me.”
Haldana shrugged. “He’s obviously rich. Maybe he can afford to retire.”
“But he never even vacationed here in all these years.” And a small town that had briefly felt like a magical place, birthplace of a rock god, had slowly returned to normal.
“Maybe it hurts too much. I mean, his mother killed herself in this town.”
Chapter Two
Yakima straightened the Santa Claus tea towel hooked over the oven door in her rented kitchen. This was so not a Christmassy conversation. She tilted her head, jangling her jingle bell earrings. “Mrs. Connolly took her life almost five years before Bax moved away. I’m sure he’s dealt with that.”
“I doubt it,” Haldana said. “You haven’t lost your parents, but I’ve lost both. It’s not something you get over. Besides, he found his mother’s body.”
Yakima shuddered. “Let’s stop talking about this. I want good energy in the holiday reunion party food.”
“Fair enough,” Haldana said equably. “What do you want me to do?”
“Shred cabbage and cut the potatoes for steak fries. We’re going to do slaw two ways, kale and red and green cabbage with dried cranberries. The last thing we’ll do today is prep the fish for the main courses.”
“What about dessert?”
“I’m going to work on a traditional Irish whiskey cake,” Yakima said, consulting her list. “Tomorrow we’ll prep baked apples, too. I used to make a simple version in the microwave when I babysat you guys.”
“Quite a feast.” Haldana reached under the worktable and grabbed a ten pound bag of potatoes. “I look forward to eating it.”
~
Bax opened the garage door late Saturday afternoon when he saw Yakima’s catering van come up the driveway. She pulled into the empty bay as he walked through the door between the house and the garage.
“Kitchen is straight through,” he said, admiring the long legs exiting the driver’s seat. She was dressed for comfort in jean leggings and athletic shoes and had a white chef’s coat on top. Yakima’s body was slim and perfectly proportioned. If she’d just been an inch or two taller, she might have escaped this tiny town by modeling. He’d never forgotten that amazing hair, and surely there was room for a Native American supermodel in the universe. Instead, she’d confined herself to town, and her life here. Why? He remembered her as a girl with a big personality, to the extent that he’d noticed anyone back then. Totally swept up in his music, his only dreams were to leave this small town and be a professional guitarist.
It had even happened, for a while.
“Thank you,” she called, flashing him a quick grin.
“Need some help unloading?” he asked. Her smile lit up her face, less tentative than during their first meeting. At times, she’d shifted uneasily on the sofa, and he’d had the notion that she was judging him as Bax Connolly, rock star, rather than remembering him as her next door neighbor during high school. Hopefully she’d gotten over whatever nerves she’d been having and how he’d been an arrogant ass at the front door.
She walked around the back and pulled open the doors of the van. “Want to carry in the deep fryer? I wasn’t sure if you had one.”
Good. Those simple words relaxed him. People never asked rock stars to do anything but perform. “I actually checked since I asked you for fried food and I have a small one.”
“Cool. We can do fish and fries at the same time.”
“Great. I was afraid you’d want to bake everything, with that healthy cooking you do.”
She smirked. “You obviously weren’t amused by the vegan thing.”
“I dated a vegan who loved her dog more than me. Bad memories of the lifestyle, so the word leaves me cold.”
“Lots of people feel very attached to animals. It’s not just a vegan thing.” She pointed toward the window. “You have a dog house outside.”
“I get loving them equally. But I had a fever of one hundred and three one time. I was practically hallucinating, and she left me alone so she could take her dog for a walk, when she could have called her roommate or sent my assistant.”
“Sorry. Is that why you broke up?”
“No. She met Leo DiCaprio at a party and dumped me for him.” He shrugged.
She giggled, then put her hand over her mouth. Must have been a model. “I’m so sorry. Poor Bax.”
He growled and changed the subject. “Are you getting any business around here? I can see Portland digging vegan, but this is a fairly rural area, not hipster town.”
“I have two jobs this weekend,” she said, pointing to the deep fryer on a shelving unit. “But I definitely want more. I’ll go anywhere in Washington or Oregon if you know people who need catering.”
Bax hoisted the appliance, making sure its cord was stowed so it wouldn’t trip him. “I would think everyone has already booked their caterers for the holidays. Why didn’t you start your business a couple of months ago?”
“I was taking care of my great-aunt. I knew I was inheriting her house and she allowed me to rent my kitchen and do all the paperwork, but she didn’t want me starting the business while she was alive.” She lifted a covered plastic tub from the van’s floor and followed him into the kitchen. “Wow, this is even nicer than my kitchen and my aunt was a stickler.”
He stared at the gleaming stainless steel appliances and dark wood paneling. It seemed unfriendly to him. “I’m glad you like it. I don’t think I remember your great-aunt.”
She set her tub on the end of the pristine, green-and-gray swirled kitchen counter. “She was a world traveler type until the cancer diagnosis. I doubt you ever met her.”
“Guess not. She died recently?”
“In November.” Yakima looked like she was having a hard time swallowing. “Inheriting her house was a wonderful payment for two years of live-in caregiving, but I admit the timing wasn’t great for my new business, or for a big transition after a huge personal loss. I’d just finished culinary school when she had her stroke. I couldn’t afford not to get started now, though.”
“You can hit it harder next year, if you can afford to stay afloat.”
She nudged him. “Referrals are my lifeline.”
“You must have more to bring in from the van,” he said in response. He wasn’t about to promise anything before he tasted her food and saw how the party went.
She smiled politely. “Don’t worry, I’ll get the rest. I’m sure you need to change for the party.”
He stared down at his canvas workpants and old Metallica T-shirt. “Why?”
She shrugged. “No reason.”
“My father isn’t making everyone wear bow ties, is he?” Bax asked. “I know he has that silly ritual, but I haven’t dressed up for Christmas since I was twelve.”
“I have no idea what Dare or Niall wear at the holidays.”
“Not friends with them, huh.”
“Nope.” Neither of them had super-friendly brothers. “You seem kind of nervous. Why don’t you take a walk for a few minutes? Get some fresh air? That always does wonders for my nerves.”
“It hailed earlier.”
“The sun has peeked out now, and it might only last for five minutes. You have to take what you can get at this time of year.”
“Go with me,” he suggested. “I never say no to a hike with a pretty girl.”
“This is hardly the Hollywood Hills,” she said, “but there isn’t even a sidewalk on the road to the east of you. It’s a challenging walk for that reason alone.”
“Let’s do it. You still have your coat on. I’ll just get mine.”
She glanced at her cell phone, clicking a side button to turn the screen on. The time flashed up. “Okay, but I can only spare about ten minutes.”
“I’ll grab a coat and meet you at the front door.”
“Cool. I’ll just pull one last load out of my van.”
A couple of minutes later, he had on an old barn coat that he’d taken out of storage, and an old knit hat with the name of a liquor brand on it tugged over his forehead. Yakima zipped up her wool trench coat as she walked toward him, the hint of a natural strut evident.
Yes, she could have modeled if she’d been just a little taller.
He took her arm as he ushered her out the front door. “We’d better not walk down the east road if you only have ten minutes.”
“Okay, we’ll just go west. There’s even sidewalks on the next block.”
“It is strange that they didn’t bother with them where the bigger houses are.”
“Different builders, probably, and the houses are older. Maybe the regulations changed, too.”
He let his fingers slide down to hers and laced them together. Her glance at him was surprised but he just grinned at her. “We both forgot our gloves. One hand in the pocket, one shared.”
“You have two pockets.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “That one has a hole in it.”
“That coat is awfully old. Didn’t you used to have one just like it?”
“It’s the same one. We toured so much that I just threw all my possessions into storage, maybe a year after I left here, and they were gathering dust ever since. I had it all shipped north when I bought this place. I’ve got quite a lot of boxes piled up in that big shed in the back.”
“You must have been through some of it.”
“Yeah,” he joked. “The one marked ‘winter clothes.’”
He watched her lift her face to the wan sun rays, the light touching her high cheekbones with gold. “You have the most beautiful skin.”
Her cheeks went from gold to dusty red. “What a thing to say to your caterer.”
He squeezed her hand as the edge of the sidewalk came into view. A ribbon of cracked ice clung to the side where a huge tree shaded that part of the street. They stepped up, skirting the slippery spot. “Not just a caterer. A friend, I hope.”
As they turned right into a cul-de-sac, a dog growled. He saw a gray-black mastiff that weighed more than Yakima.
“He’s off leash,” Yakima said, stopping still and tugging him back. “Let’s go back.”
He heard the tremble in her voice. “No, look, he’s tied to a rope.”
She followed his finger with her eyes. “Oh. Why is he growling at us?”
“He’s protecting the property. I’ve met him before. His name is Earl.” He moved forward and when Yakima didn’t come with him, he let her hand go, then held his up to the dog. “Hi Earl, how you doing?”
The dog sniffed his hand and barked. Bax
smiled and rubbed behind the dog’s ears. The animal’s warmth heated his stiff fingers. “Good boy.”
He went back to Yakima. “See? You just have to introduce yourself. I can’t remember the owner’s name, but he seemed like a nice guy. Moved here after I left town. They take a walk past my house twice a day.”
Yakima had her arms folded over her chest. He couldn’t decide if she was cold or upset. “Okay. Well, we should go back.”
Bax was about to ask a question but felt something move in his jeans. His phone, vibrating. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at it. While he managed to keep from swearing aloud in front of Yakima, he wasn’t happy to see who the text message was from. “Yeah, I know you have a lot to do, and I have to deal with this.”
They walked back up the street side by side, but Bax was too distracted to joke Yakima out of whatever cloud had settled over her. When they walked up his driveway, though, he realized her lips had gone pale. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, catching the scent of flowery, fragrant oil she must use on her sexy hair. “Cold?”
“Yes.”
“We’d better get inside.” He squeezed her, then let her go to dig for his keys. Finding the chain while he climbed the steps, he made quick work of the door and ushered her into the living room again.
“Yeah.” She smiled tentatively at him then turned toward the kitchen.
His phone vibrated again. He wanted to draw her close, but this wasn’t the time to pursue anything physical. “Call me if you need any help. I’ll be upstairs.” He went to his office to make his call privately.
~
Half an hour later, Yakima had everything she needed set out. She was whisking her fish batter when Bax reappeared with Haldana at his heels.
“What can I do?” Haldana asked. She’d put her hair into a cornet braid and exchanged her jeans for a soft red dress.
Yakima placed her third pie plate next to the other two, and poured in her seasoned panko crumb mixture for the halibut chunks. “Absolutely nothing. You’re a guest.”
“Are you going to try to serve everything yourself?”
The Rock Star's Christmas Reunion: contemporary holiday romance (A Charisma series novel, The Connollys Book 1) Page 2
