Secret Ingredient: Love

by Teresa Southwick

  She hesitated a moment before saying, “You. Among other things.”

  “Oh boy. What did Flo say?”

  “She approved of my negotiating technique.”

  The family test tasting. The kiss that had launched a thousand feelings—not to mention giving him ideas now. Don’t go there, he cautioned himself. He’d barely managed to spend the night with her at the cabin and not taste her lips again. And in the days that followed, she had been on his mind twenty-four hours a day. Even in his dreams, she taunted him, with the memory of her breasts burning into his chest. But every time he awoke, his arms were empty and the place in the bed beside him was cold. But he was never cold when Fran was nearby.

  “What else did my mother say?” he asked, yanking his thoughts back to the present. At Fran’s skeptical look, he added, “You two were talking for a while.”

  “Oh, lots of things,” she said vaguely. Then an anxious expression replaced the dreamy look in her eyes. “You left your cake. I’ll go inside and get it for you.”

  Alex suddenly felt the cold. What was going on? Where was the Fran who would just as soon make him wear the cake as deliver it to him? What had happened to the spirited chef who had railed against fetching and carrying for a man? Where was the woman who had gotten his attention when she’d sworn never to throw her hat in the fetching-and-carrying ring by telling a man “I do”?

  He lowered his arm and backed away from her. What the hell had made him think of marrying her, anyway?

  “Don’t bother,” he said. “It’s time to go back inside.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Eleven

  “I ’m in trouble, Ma.”

  The words were out of Fran’s mouth before she closed the door to her parents’ home. It was the day after the wedding. Unable to concentrate, she’d left work about an hour early without saying goodbye to Alex. She couldn’t face him. His dumbfounded expression following her offer to drop off his dry cleaning had been too humiliating. Hence her motivation for stopping by to see her mother.

  “You’re in trouble?” Aurora asked, her brown eyes widening.

  “Not that. Trouble of the confusion kind,” she clarified.

  Her mother put her arm around Fran’s shoulders and led her into the kitchen. “Have a seat and tell me all about it while I fix you a snack. You need strength for girl talk.”

  Fran pulled out one of the wooden ladder-back chairs at the table and released a sigh when she settled herself on the floral-print cushion. “It’s about Alex.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” Aurora said as she set a plate of cookies and a glass of milk in front of her daughter. “You’re in love with him. I just don’t understand why you would think that’s trouble.”

  “I’m not in love with him.” At least she hoped not. Because she was afraid he couldn’t love her back. “My worst fear has become a reality. I’ve turned into a Step-ford woman. Scraping and bowing until I want to gag. I offered to drop off his cleaning, Ma.”

  Aurora sat down across from her with a freshly washed bunch of grapes, a paper towel and a pair of scissors. As she listened, she cut the large clump into neat little clusters and arranged them on the plate, settling them beside the cookies.

  “You’re going to have to be more specific, Frannie.”

  Sighing loudly, Fran took a cookie and bit into it as she organized her thoughts. “Alex is in love with another woman.”

  “No,” her mother gasped. “The two-timing son of a—”

  “Ma!” Fran laughed in spite of her inner turmoil. “It was a long time ago and she passed away. But he hasn’t gotten over her.”

  “Oh, that’s very sad. But what does that have to do with his cleaning?”

  “I’m nothing like her. Beth was perfect. She was an angel, even looked like one. Tall, golden hair, blue eyes.”

  Her mother stood and went to the silverware drawer for a fork, spoon and knife. Then she grabbed a napkin and folded it in half, the diagonal way that made tri angles. She set it beside Fran’s plate before settling across from her again.

  “How do you know that’s what angels look like?” she asked.

  “Aside from the fact that I’m short, dumpy and have mousy brown hair, that’s not really the point, Ma. I’m talking about what she was.”

  “And what was she?”

  “Like I said, a perfect human being.”

  “There’s no such thing, although women come very close.”

  Fran sighed as she finished her cookie and took a small cluster of grapes. “If Alex was here, I’d be peeling them for him because that’s what she would have done. She was a kindergarten teacher. All she wanted was to be a wife and mother. Alex adored her. I’m the complete opposite. From the moment I met him, I’ve done nothing but tell him that I’m a career woman. That in my book marriage is nothing more than servitude.”

  Her mother stood up. “I forgot. I have some of that cheese you like, and the little crackers to put it on.”

  Fran stared at her mother. The woman hadn’t sat for more than thirty seconds since she’d arrived. Come to think of it, she always did this. And not just for her husband. Fran had seen her mother cater and fuss for Max, Mike, Sam and Johnny. And her, too.

  “Ma, what are you doing?”

  “I told you. I’m getting you some of that good jalapeño and pepper cheese you like.”

  Fran shook her head. “No. I mean you don’t have to wait on me.” She pointed to the plate. “There’s enough here to feed me for the rest of the day. If I want anything else, I can stand up and get it.”

  Aurora smiled. “Of course you can. But I like doing it for you, sweetheart.”

  “But I don’t want to make more work for you.”

  “I love you,” her mother said simply. “It’s not a chore when you love someone.”

  “And that’s why you fetch and carry for Daddy? You don’t feel like a servant?”

  Aurora laughed. “Of course not. But he works hard. I love him very much and he feels the same. I enjoy making his life a little easier when he’s home. It’s my job. Like you cook gourmet food. But if I didn’t want to do it, no force on this earth could make me. I’m a very lucky woman.”

  Fran stared as thoughts tumbled through her head. She’d always known that her parents loved each other and her. But still she’d chafed at her mother’s indulging her father. Fran had never stopped to realize that her mother treated everyone she cared about the same way.

  “I never thought about it like that,” Fran admitted. That realization called for another homemade cookie.

  Aurora brought the container to the table and sat down as she refilled the plate. “It’s no secret that your father wants you to marry and have babies. For that matter, so do I—if you fall in love.”

  There was no “if” about it. Fran knew she was in love with her boss. For all the good it would do her. Her chances of a happy ending with Alex were slim to none.

  Her mother took a clump of grapes. “But neither of us wants you to give up yourself for a man. Things will fall into place if you’re happy with who you are.”

  “Did it happen that way for you, Ma?”

  Aurora nodded. “I’m a homemaker by choice. But there’s a small part of me that wonders what it would have been like to have it all. A family and a career. You’ll have that.”

  “I don’t think so, Ma.”

  Fran knew no other man would make her feel the way Alex did. And he’d already lost his heart to someone else. Still, she’d fallen for him like a ton of bricks. All her self-protection had been about as helpful as an umbrella in a nuclear blast.

  The front door opened and her father called out, “I’m home.” Then he appeared in the kitchen doorway. “This is a pleasant surprise. My two favorite ladies.” He leaned over and kissed Fran on the forehead. Then he walked around the table, pulled his wife to her feet and into his arms before kissing her soundly on the mouth.

  Fran smiled fondly at them, then cleared
her throat. “Maybe you guys should get a room.”

  “You might have something there,” Leo said, winking at her. “This is what I want for you, Frannie.”

  “What, Dad?” she asked.

  “A man who will love you like I love your mother. Someone to share your life with, because a job isn’t everything. All it does is put a roof over your head and food on the table.”

  “Even if it is just frozen food,” she said with a sigh.

  “Don’t knock it. Four billion dollars a year is a lot of linguine. I don’t need to get baptized with a glass of milk to see the forest for the trees.”

  Fran smiled at his mixed metaphor, then frowned as the message sank in. “Daddy, I just want you to be proud of me—to love me—like you do the boys.”

  Leo met her gaze and there was a serious look on his weathered face. With his arm around his wife’s waist, he studied her. “You really don’t have any idea how proud I am of my little girl? You don’t know how much I love you?”

  The words warmed her heart, but she said, “No. Tell me.”

  “Your mother explained some things to me, kiddo. I know I wasn’t very supportive when you went to cooking school. In spite of that, you went after what you wanted with Carlino determination. More than I’ve ever seen from your brothers. I guess I was so busy telling you what to do that I forgot to tell you how much I admire the way you do it. Don’t ever doubt that I love you very much. I just want you to be safe. And happy. Like I am with this woman here.”

  He bent Aurora back over his arm and kissed her passionately again. When they straightened, her mother blushed like a schoolgirl and her father’s laugh was lusty and filled with love.

  Suddenly Fran understood everything. Her dad wasn’t against her career, he just wanted her to find the lifetime of happiness that he and her mother had. In his guy-way he’d made it all about her being safe and secure so he wouldn’t have to worry about her. But fetching and carrying wasn’t about servitude. It was about love.

  She stood up and rounded the table to where the two stood in each other’s arms. “Group hug,” she said.

  Leo Carlino swung one arm wide and pulled her into the circle of his embrace. He kissed the top of her head. “I love you, sweet pea.”

  “I love you, too, Dad.”

  She loved Alex as well. But she realized she couldn’t change for him. It wasn’t fair to him. Mostly it wasn’t fair to her. And she intended to tell him so.

  Alex looked at the clock on his desk, which said six o’clock. Leaving at this time of evening would put him in the middle of rush hour traffic. He was going to be at least twenty minutes late picking up his mother for dinner. His father had gone to a hockey game with Luke. When Alex had found out Flo would be alone, he’d asked her out.

  He stood up and grabbed his suit coat from the back of his chair. When he turned around, he saw Fran in the doorway.

  Ever since her talk with his mother last night, Fran had turned schizophrenic. He wondered which of her personalities had shown up now—Xena Warrior Princess, who stirred his blood with something he shied away from naming, or Susie Homemaker, who made him nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

  “Hi,” he said, slipping his jacket on.

  “Are you on your way out?” she asked.

  “Yes. I’ve got a date with—”

  “This can wait,” she interrupted. She turned away. “Bye.”

  “No.” He walked across the room and grabbed the door before she could close it. They were alone in the office. His secretary and the rest of the staff had left for the evening. “I’ve got a minute. What can I do for you?”

  She stood in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest. The vulnerability he saw in her expression pulled at his heart, and he wanted to fold her in his arms. He wanted to protect her from whatever was causing it. He wanted to take care of her in spite of the kowtowing of the last twenty-four hours. Her behavior had bothered him. That wasn’t the spirited Fran he knew and…Yes, loved.

  “I don’t want to hold you up,” she said.

  “You’re not. What is it?”

  She met his gaze. “I’ve only got about three weeks left on my contract.”

  “I know. We need to talk—”

  “I just wanted to remind you that I’ll need a letter of recommendation.”

  “What?” Surprise slammed him in the chest and drove the air from his lungs.

  “It’s time for me to think about my next job. I would like a letter of recommendation. The main reason I took this assignment was for experience in entrées for my résumé. I’ve got that now.”

  “You’re going to quit?”

  “I’m not resigning. My contract is almost up.”

  “What if I want to renew it?”

  “The answer would have to be no.”

  “Why?”

  “Oh, you know. The usual,” she said nonchalantly, with a too-casual shrug.

  “So you’re unhappy here?”

  She shook her head. “It’s been a wonderful experience working with you and your staff.”

  Another thought occurred to him. “Have you already had an offer from one of our competitors?”

  “No.” She laughed. “But from your mouth to God’s ear.”

  “If it’s a raise—”

  She shook her head. “The compensation is more than generous.”

  “Then give me an opportunity to renegotiate your contract.”

  “No,” she said sharply.

  “Why? Did a position at the grill and taco bar open up? For that matter, what’s come over you lately?”

  Her eyes flashed and an angry flush crept into her cheeks. This glimmer of her usual spirit made him want to pump his arm and shout, “Yes!”

  “If you must know, I don’t want to renew my contract because I don’t fit in here.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I cheat at arm wrestling. I’m likely to dump milk on you. I say what I think, and I don’t cater, as in humor, cosset, coddle or indulge. I can’t change the way I am. For the last twenty-four hours I tried, and I hated it, myself and you. Even if I could change, I wouldn’t. For you or any other man—boss,” she amended.

  “I never asked you to change.”

  After he’d spoken, Alex didn’t understand the devastation that haunted her eyes. She couldn’t change; he didn’t want her to. Simple. Then why did she look as if he’d just put too much pepper into her signature recipe?

  Before she whirled around, he could have sworn he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. But when she spoke, her voice was steady and firm. “Good. Then we have nothing more to say. I’ll fulfill the terms of my contract and you’ll prepare a letter of recommendation.”

  “I’ll have my secretary type it up first thing tomorrow.”

  She was gone before Alex could collect his thoughts. He was alone before he could plead with her to stay, to not abandon him. But something had stopped him. A voice inside said if he did, he was crossing a line and could never go back. So he said nothing.

  He’d never had her in the first place, but his heart ached as if she was lost to him forever.

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Twelve

  “I ’m a blockhead?”

  Angry, Alex stared at his mother across the linen-covered, flower-and-candle-bedecked table in the very expensive restaurant he’d taken her to. He had hoped she could lift his spirits. Instead of a mother lion defending her cub, she’d thrown him to the wolves.

  “It hurts me to say it more than it hurts you to hear it,” she said sympathetically.

  Alex doubted that very much. He had explained to Flo what had happened with his favorite little frozen food chef to make him late for dinner. And she’d responded by calling him names.

  “Okay. What have I done that justifies you calling me a blockhead?”

  “It’s what you didn’t do,” she began, in that patient, patronizing tone. “You should have pleaded with h
er to stay instead of agreeing so quickly to give in to her request for a letter of recommendation.”

  “I told her I wanted to renegotiate, but she turned me down flat.”

  “Did she give you any explanation?”

  “She said she wasn’t going to change for any man.”

  His mother’s gaze skittered away for a moment. “Uh-oh.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that.” His stomach clenched. Two wordlets, one syllable each that sent dread coursing through him. What the hell did “uh-oh” mean? It was the first inkling he’d had that he’d confided in his mother hoping she would reassure him that Fran hadn’t meant what she’d said and it would all blow over.

  “What does that mean?” he asked.

  His mother frowned, then took a sip of her white wine. “It would appear that the fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree. And any tendency you have toward being a blockhead was inherited from me.”

  “You want to explain that?” he asked, frowning in bewilderment.

  “I’m afraid it’s my fault that Fran wants to leave.”

  He really didn’t like hearing “Fran” and “leave” in the same sentence. “How’s that?” he asked in as calm a tone as he could manage.

  “She’s in love with you,” Flo said simply.

  Fran was in love with him? Miss “Love, marriage, and servitude go hand in hand”? The idea made his heart pound in a dance of joy and exultation. But he couldn’t quite believe it. Or maybe he didn’t want to? If he did, he would have to admit what he felt for her.

  “Ma, start at the beginning. You lost me back at the part where you knocked your own gene pool.”

  Flo took a piece of dark bread from the cloth-covered basket on the table and set it on her plate. As she looked at him, she started pulling off little pieces. “I made it a point to talk to Fran at the wedding. To thank her for doing such a wonderful job with the food,” she added.

  “And?” he prodded. She was the mother of all matchmakers and must have had another motive besides that.

  “I could see that there was something going on between the two of you.”

  “Okay. Now we’re getting somewhere.”