by Becki Willis
Her smile faltered when she saw the man’s face. In the few seconds it took him to lift his eyes to hers, the sparkle had faded from her twinkling baby blues.
“Hello, Genesis,” the man said in his clipped English accent. “Fancy seeing you here.”
The menu dangled from her fingers as her hand froze mid-air. For the life of her, she could not move, much less breathe. She felt light-headed, seeing the man sitting less than two feet away.
So much for the restraining order.
She vaguely recalled needing to update the command to keep it in force. For some foolish reason, she had thought moving two thousand miles away would serve the same purpose. She quickly saw the error of her ways.
It crossed her mind to refuse him service. She had the obligatory sign hanging near the counter, stating her right to refuse service to anyone she chose. But doing so would stir up old memories, bitter feelings, and questions she did not want to answer. And who knew? Perhaps he being here was purely co-incidental. Perhaps he had realized the folly of pursuing her. Perhaps he was here to apologize.
Perhaps pigs could fly.
Ever the optimist, Genny glanced out the window to check the blue Texas sky. Nope, completely pig-free.
She tried playing it cool. Her voice never belied the tremor working its way through her spine. “Would you like to hear the daily specials?”
“Really? That’s it?” the man asked with an arched brow. “I watched you with that group. Even when they changed their order a half dozen times and asked for substitutions, you smiled your golden smile and gave them the full Genesis Baker experience.” He said the words with a mocking air. “You obviously do not know a one of them. Yet here I am, the last person on earth you would expect to see in Podunk, Texas, and you aren’t even surprised to see me? Come, now, Genesis,” he chided. “You know me. It that the best you can do?”
“Perhaps that is the problem. I do know you,” she said coolly. She also knew he was not inside the restaurant when the group ordered, meaning he had been spying from the window. Some things never changed. “If you’re not ready to order, I can give you a few moments.”
“Be careful, Genesis, or I might think you were trying to escape me.”
“You be careful, Pembrook, or I might think you were trying to threaten me.”
“Now, why ever would I do that, Genesis? I am absolutely delighted to see you again. I assume you are working here now?” He looked around, trying to find fault with the charming and popular establishment. He could find only one. “This is a much smaller venue than you are accustomed to, but I suppose I see the charm. But a waitress, Genesis? A chef with your skills?”
She offered no details. Nothing to encourage him, nothing to engage with him more than absolutely necessary. He knew she owned the restaurant. “Would you like to hear about the meatloaf?”
“I think I much prefer the fish,” he said, looking over her shoulder to the daily specials posted on a chalkboard. “I always did like the way you did tilapia.”
She jotted down his order without looking his way again. “And to drink?”
“As always, filtered water, light on the ice, with lime wedges.”
“Hardly something I would remember,” she muttered, even though it was a lie. They had met over a frosty glass of iced water.
Had there really been a time she thought him handsome? Genny cringed at the memory. At first glance, he was quite breathtaking; classical features, unusually pale coloring, impeccable manners and charm, all carefully wrapped in stylish clothes. It had not taken her long to realize all were on the surface. The man had rough edges, a dark soul, and obsessive tendencies. Even his clothes were a cheap imitation. There were undeniable flaws marring his good looks, too. Something about his mouth was slightly... off. His lips angled one way, his teeth the other. She often wondered if his jaw was broken as a child, contributing to the off-kilter set of his mouth. And those eyes, so pale and icy blue, were downright spooky. Particularly when they followed her every move.
Genny ignored the impulse to run. Forcing herself to move at a normal pace, she turned her back on Pembrook Harris and visited the next table, keeping her voice falsely bright as she offered dessert options. She felt the Englishman’s eyes upon her as she moved to the safety of the kitchen.
Two steps through the door, her knees gave way. She was already tethering on exhaustion. The strained reunion with dear Mrs. McSwain had left her slightly off-kilter this afternoon. The last thing she needed — the very last thing she needed — was to have Pembrook Harris back in her life. The man had all but stalked her.
Be honest with yourself, Genesis. He was a stalker, no doubt about it. Just because it makes you sound like a victim doesn’t change the facts.
“Miss Genny? Are you alright?” The busboy broke into her downtrodden thoughts as he rounded the corner and saw her standing there, pale and limp against the walk-in cooler.
She waved away his concern with a weak smile. “It’s busy out there today. Just needed a breather.”
“Hey, I hear ya. That group of ladies is a live one.”
Genny drew a deep breath of courage and vowed not to let the unwanted customer ruin her day. She delivered appetizers and refilled tea glasses, fussing over the group of women as she deliberately skirted the booth where Pembrook sat.
On a trip back to the kitchen, Genny felt someone grab her arm. Her initial reaction was to gasp and jerk away, before she even saw who it was.
“Hey, Gen, am—” Seeing her stiff withdrawal, Cutter broke off mid-sentence. His brow instantly knitted into a frown. “Genny? What’s wrong?”
“Oh, sorry, Cutter. I—I didn’t see you come in. I didn’t realize that was you.” She unconsciously rubbed her wrist where his fingers had been.
“I hurt you?” he asked, his tone as incredulous as it was concerned. He gingerly took her hand and studied her wrist.
“No, no, of course not. I was just... surprised.” Her eyes darted away, involuntarily searching for Pembrook, making certain he was still at his table. Reassuring herself that he hadn’t been the one to grab her.
“Why are you so jumpy?”
“I’m not,” she denied. “Just a busy day.”
“Am I too early?” Over the last few weeks, he had timed his lunch break to coincide with hers. Sometimes other members of the staff joined them, but recently it had just been the two of them.
Genny glanced around, noting the various stages of meals-in-progress. “I should be able to take a break after we serve that big group over there. And not a minute too soon, I can tell you. My feet are killing me,” she admitted. “What would you like?”
He gave her one of his most charming smiles. “Surprise me, Genny darlin’. You know I like anything you make.”
“I swear, you do eat anything,” she claimed with a shake of her head. “Grab our table and I’ll bring your tea.”
Cutter released her hand and sauntered off to claim the small table tucked along the back wall. It was one of the few tables beyond the reach of the camera lens, making it their favorite.
Pembrook’s order was ready shortly after the women’s. Genny made a point to personally deliver his food. She was determined to prove that he no longer intimidated her.
“It looks delicious.” The Englishman took an appreciative whiff and turned a smile her way. “I am happy to see your foray into the hillbilly life has not limited your culinary skills.”
Her smile was falsely sweet. “You should have been here yesterday. We had cold coon and collard greens. Chittlin cornbread, too.”
He looked vaguely green. “You are kidding, I hope.”
“Yes, Pembrook, I am kidding. No matter what you like to think, we do have some civilization here in the boonies.”
He changed the subject without warning. His eyes shot toward Cutter. “Who’s your boyfriend?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Perhaps not a boyfriend, but yo
u’re obviously sleeping with him. He’s a bit young for you, isn’t he, love?” He arched a perfectly manicured blond brow.
“I am not your love!” she snapped. As an afterthought, she added, “And I am not sleeping with him.”
“Who are you kidding? I saw the two of you together. There is an intimacy in the way you talk to one another, in the way you touch one another.”
Genny countered with, “There is an insanity in the way you think. What are you doing here anyway, Pembrook?” she asked in a flat voice.
“Having lunch, of course.”
“I mean in Naomi.”
“Just passing through.”
“We are on the path to nowhere. No one ‘just passes through’ The Sisters. So why are you here? Or do I even have to ask?”
“All right, I admit it. I saw you on television. It reminded me of all the good times we used to have, and I realized how much I missed you.”
“I haven’t missed you, Pembrook.” Her message was direct. “There’s nothing for you here in Naomi, so you might as well go back home.”
“I fear I’ve grown tired of Boston. I’m thinking of relocating.”
Genny pointed to his neatly pressed shirt and slacks, her voice hard. “You would never survive August in Texas. One hundred plus degree temps, with humidity just as high. Those sharp creases would wilt, right along with the gel in your hair. As you can see, September is not much better. Do the smart thing. Leave.”
“And I always heard how friendly you all were down here in Texas,” he chided, letting a slow drawl seep into his voice. “You certainly don’t sound very welcoming, my dear.”
“I am not your dear. And you, Pembrook Harris, are most definitely not welcome here.” She turned on her heel and walked away.
She was still trembling with anger as she brought food to the table she shared with Cutter. He noticed and caught her fingers in his own. “Genny?”
She shook away his concern. “It’s nothing.”
He held steadfast to her hand. “Did that dandy say something to insult you? Who is he? He’s not from around here, is he?”
“He’s nobody.” Truly nobody, not in the terms of human decency.
“Do I need to have a word with him?”
Cutter’s voice was so stern, so protective, that Genny had a momentary image of him calling Pembrook out into the street and challenging him to a duel. An amused smile tickled her mouth.
“No, Cutter. You do not have to fight my battles for me, you know. But I appreciate the gesture, all the same.” She squeezed his fingers before disentangling her hand from his.
He continued to scowl. “So you admit there is a battle to be fought.”
“Believe me, Cutter; the man is not worth the effort. Now eat. I have a batch of hot apple turnovers for dessert.”
“I’ll pretend to be distracted by the turnovers,” Cutter agreed. “I’ll eat two or three, four at the most. But don’t think this is over. I still want to know about the dandy.”
***
They gathered at Granny Bert’s to watch the show. With only three episodes remaining, it was a tradition everyone would miss when the season ended.
The whole gang was there tonight, mish mashed as it was.
There was the family, of course: Maddy, her eighty-one-year-old grandmother, and her teenage twins, Blake and Bethani. Genny was an honorary member of the Cessna clan.
Quickly working their own way into the family, Brash deCordova and daughter Megan were there, along with Shannon and Matt Aikens.
To some, it might seem odd that Brash and Shannon were now so close, considering they could not make their marriage work. But they shared a deep and devoted love for their daughter, and Brash could think of no one he would rather co-parent with than his best friend from high school, Matthew Aikman. Megan thrived under the united front and she adored Maddy, her father’s new girlfriend. It helped that she and Bethani were best friends.
Derron Mullins was there tonight, too. He was Maddy’s only employee and had already proved himself an invaluable asset to her struggling business. Despite his small stature and his preference to work behind a desk, Derron knew about tools and construction. He handled the more physical jobs that came their way. He was also a good friend and provided comic relief when Madison’s life seemed too complicated. In addition, he made it his goal in life to update her wardrobe and introduce her to clothes that accentuated her tall, lean form.
Somewhere along the way, Cutter Montgomery had also become a part of their inner circle. There was a gap in their ages — at thirty-one, he was at least ten years younger than Brash and Matt — but he was chief of the volunteer fire department and worked closely with Brash, the chief of police. Being a permanent fixture at New Beginnings, he and Genny had become particularly good friends, and that friendship bled over to her other friendships. It seemed only natural to include him in their gatherings.
Now that Cutter’s grandfather was back in The Sisters, Sticker Pierce tried to worm his way into the group, as well. He was here tonight; trying as usual to make a good impression on Bertha Cessna, the woman he claimed was the love of his life. For the most part, Maddy’s grandmother ignored his antics, citing his long string of former wives as argument. But tonight the older woman seemed oddly miffed. Each time her friend Sybille giggled at something the rusty old cowboy said, Granny Bert would snort. If it didn’t seem so impossible, it would appear that she was jealous.
It occurred to Genny that Miss Sybille reacted to Sticker much the same way Bethani and Megan reacted to Cutter. With Cutter becoming a regular in their group, Genny thought the teenage girls would grow accustomed to his rugged good looks. She thought they would grow weary of their crush on him. Not so. They still stared at him with unabashed admiration, hanging onto his every word and breaking out in giggles each time he looked their way. Cutter tried being polite, engaging them in conversation the way he did Blake, but the girls’ answers were usually brief and quite often silly. Genny normally found herself running interference, trying to soothe awkward moments and empty silences.
Tonight, she brought enough food to keep those empty moments filled. They set up a casual buffet in the kitchen and let everyone pile their plates high before settling in to watch the show. By the time the title sequence for Home Again: Starting Over began, the room quietened as everyone ate.
The show had a general theme it revolved around each week. Shortly into the episode, it was clear what this week’s theme was.
Genny shifted uncomfortably in the seat, mindful of the man beside her as their faces flashed across the screen. Much to her embarrassment, the background story of this week’s episode obviously centered around them. Tonight’s buzzword was new possibilities, a play on words that hinted at a relationship between the handsome firefighter and the owner of New Beginnings.
Not for the first time, Genny marveled at producer Amanda Hooper’s knack for creating a subtle message by flashing seemingly random shots into the sequence. One minute, head carpenter and show host Nick Vilardi was highlighting the advantages and new possibilities available by using Valco products. Without warning, the screen flashed to the café and a scene filmed several weeks ago. Cutter and Genny were alone at the table, and he was obviously skeptical about the risotto he saw on her plate. Even without audio, the audience could image the sexy banter bouncing between them. When Genny fed him a bite of the creamy creation with her own fork, the voice-over again mentioned new possibilities.
The announcer could have been referring to trying new foods, or new kitchen appliances. But Genny’s face warmed and she dared not glance around the room, least of all toward Cutter. It was bad enough that her legs were sprawled across his knee as he massaged her aching feet. It was an innocent enough gesture, but Genny realized it might suggest a more intimate relationship between them. Even Pembrook had made the ridiculous assumption.
With a low murmur of thanks, Genny quietly disentangled her legs and demurely placed both feet on the floor.
Near the end of the show, after revealing Madison’s refurbished butler’s pantry and the wonderful possibilities of how to best utilize it, Amanda slipped in one more scene of Cutter and Genny. It was from the day of the Lufkin All-Media Club bus tour, when Genny discovered the man was ticklish. Events leading up to the scene were missing, showing only the playful scuffle between them and the superior and highly satisfied look on Cutter’s face when he finally got the upper hand and whirled her into his arms. Without the rest of the scene as context, it looked like a lover’s embrace. Without audio, it looked like he whispered sweet love words into her ear. One thing that needed no reference was the huge smile on Genny’s face. The camera panned in on her dimples before blurring to obscurity.
Clearly shocked, Bethani blurted out, “Aunt Genny!”
The teenager sounded more than surprised. She sounded appalled.
Genny felt her face flush again as she shrank back into the couch cushions. Sometime during the show, her arm tucked behind Cutter’s. The wide set of his shoulders offered protection now, as she tried to hide from the accusing look in Bethani’s eyes.
The girl stared at the couple on the opposite end of the couch. She had been so excited about having Cutter in their living room again and so focused on making brilliant conversation that she had never noticed how close he sat to her mother’s best friend. How cozy they appeared. How... intimate.
Now that she thought about it, Bethani realized they were always sitting together. Even in a crowded room, they somehow always found each other and wound up side-by-side. She had seen them share a plate before. Laugh over a private joke. But she had always been too star-struck by his sexy smile, or the light in his hazel eyes, to realize that both were usually directed toward her would-be aunt.
Bethani’s expressive blue eyes widened in shock as it now became so obvious.
“But-But you’re—” She stopped short of blurting out the rest of her sentence. So old.
The unsaid words smarted. The teenager had the grace not to say them aloud, but the words hung in the air. Sucking in a gasp, Genesis was determined not to reveal her humiliation.
