by Janet Spaeth
The phone rang, interrupting her contemplations. She picked it up and held it to her ear, still absorbed in the minister’s words.
“Hello? Hello?” A disembodied voice floated from the telephone receiver. “Tess?”
“Angel’s Roost,” she answered, snapping back to reality. “May I help you?”
“Tess, this is Jake.” The connection spit and crackled. “Sorry. This car phone is giving me all sorts of problems. Anyway, I wanted to know if you had plans for tonight.”
“No, no.” The minister’s words revisited her: “Have fun—go to dinner.” Easy for him to say, she thought. “No, I don’t have any plans.”
“How’d you like to go to dinner tonight?” Jake asked. “Tess? Tess?”
How did that man do it?
Chapter 4
Tess pawed through her closet one more time. Well, there was nothing to be done at this stage: She’d wear her green silk. She slipped into it and preened at her reflection in the hall mirror. She had to admit it. No matter that the dress was four years old; it did look good on her.
She told herself she was cool, calm, and collected. She pulled back her shoulders, tilted her chin upward, and tried for a haughty look, like a lady of society.
A furry shadow moved into the mirrored image, sniffed Tess’s ankles, and twitched her tail crossly, as if angry that her owner would be leaving her alone on a cold winter night.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. I’ll only be gone awhile,” Tess crooned, smoothing Cora’s already silky gray coat. “It’s just a date.”
Just a date. Her stomach flipped up and flopped down.
A slight whisk of makeup, a quick brush through the tousled auburn curls, and she was ready. She’d just sprayed on a light spritz of cologne when she heard a knock at the back door.
Jake whistled as he saw her. “You, my friend, are a knockout!”
“Why, thank you!” she responded, trying not to smile too much. A knockout! No one had ever called her a knockout before. She felt ridiculously flattered.
He helped her into her coat and then paused as she opened the door. “I hate to be making fashion suggestions to such an elegant lady, but wouldn’t you be more comfortable walking to the car with shoes on?”
“Shoes?” she asked blankly. Then she looked down at her feet and saw her stockinged toes. “Shoes,” she repeated.
She must be more flustered than she had given herself credit for. She dashed up the stairs and pulled a pair of shoes from her closet, making sure they matched. She wasn’t taking any more chances!
She said good-bye to Cora, who glared at her through slitted eyes, and they left her house. His car was parked in front, and it was still warm.
“Where are we going?” She settled herself into the leather luxuriousness of his car. The dashboard had more lights than Las Vegas. She didn’t have any idea what half of them were for, but she didn’t want to ask.
“To Whispering Winds.”
Wow. Tess formed the word silently.
“Ever been there?”
“No, can’t say I have.”
He turned slightly toward her, taking his gaze off the road momentarily. “Guess why I chose it.”
“Because it has good food?” she ventured.
“Partially. Guess again.”
“Good service?”
“Nope. Keep trying.”
She was stumped. Because it was probably the most expensive place in the area? Because he thought she’d probably never eaten there? Because she’d be impressed? No, all those reasons sounded so shallow. She made one last effort.
“Because you own it?”
He burst out laughing. “I wish! No, guess again.”
“I give up. Tell me.”
“Because it’s not downtown and not on the south end. It’s middle ground.”
That was true. Even as he spoke, they left the city limits and drove on the old highway access toward a darkened county road.
Jake slowed down and peered at the small blue reflecting markers that glowed alongside the road. “If I’m not careful, I’ll miss the turnoff. They should mark it better.”
He located the road sign and turned down the county road. Without the street lamps or even occasional lights of the highway, the night sky surrounded them so completely she couldn’t tell where sky ended and earth began. Only the headlights of the car cut through the darkness like a searchlight.
“Are you sure this is right?” Tess asked tentatively. “It’s really, really dark out here.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure,” Jake responded, but his words held a trace of hesitancy. “It can be hard to tell out here, though. You get on the wrong road, and you can go miles before you get your bearings. Even during the day. Why, last summer I was out—oh, here it is. I recognize that white-painted rock.”
Tess felt the car begin to climb a small rise—almost a hill, if there could be such a thing in eastern North Dakota.
And, sure enough, at the top of the rise, there, spread out before them like a sparkling lake of glittering lights, lay Whispering Winds.
He slowed down and pulled into the expansive parking lot. Even at night Tess could tell the place was spectacular. She had the impression of a ring of pines and spruce edging the parking lot and circling behind the restaurant.
Small trees, possibly maples, although she couldn’t tell without their foliage, dotted the freshly snowplowed parking lot. Tiny white lights glittered in the leafless branches.
A young man in a military-style overcoat and hat met the car as Jake pulled into the looping road by the front door of the restaurant. As the keys were exchanged between Jake and the valet, Tess let herself out of the car, over their objections, and stood near the entrance.
She heard a soft murmur as the evergreens brushed against each other in the evening breeze, undoubtedly the source of the poetic name of the restaurant.
“You didn’t need to wait outside,” Jake said as he joined her, taking her elbow and guiding her toward the restaurant’s door. “It’s too cold.”
She shook her head. “No. I was listening.”
“Listening?” For a moment Jake seemed lost; then he nodded in understanding. “Oh, you heard the whisper. That says a lot, you know. Not everyone can be quiet enough to hear it. Legend has it that only a truly peaceful soul can hear it.”
They entered through the massive brass and etched-glass doors. Tess paused and looked around her.
“This is magnificent!” she breathed.
The restaurant was constructed as a great room. The ceiling arched a full two stories overhead. Each table was draped with a pristine white tablecloth, and the chairs were upholstered in a muted mallard green. Over the hardwood floors Oriental rugs of a thousand colors and patterns were scattered, adding an underlay of hues that contrasted with the stark monochromatic vault above them.
They checked their coats and allowed a server to lead them to a table. It was tucked back into the corner, and Tess wondered if Jake had requested it. But every table seemed to be situated with an awareness of privacy, so maybe she was reading too much into it.
“Would you like a cocktail before you order?” the hostess asked.
Jake looked at her, and Tess shook her head slightly. “If they have mineral water, that would be wonderful.”
“Mineral water for both of us, please,” Jake directed the hostess, and she left.
“You didn’t have to skip the drink because I did,” Tess said, though she was secretly glad he did.
“I don’t drink,” Jake said and paused, as if weighing what to say next. “I grew up in a house where drinking was a problem for a while. My dad was a borderline alcoholic, although he’s come around since then.”
“I’m sorry to hear your family was in that situation,” Tess said, “but I’m delighted to hear it’s different now.”
“Yes. Dad has changed in a lot of ways. I’m glad the period when he was at rock bottom was brief. Still, it’s something that stays with me, and I c
onsider it every time I’m offered a drink.”
Once again Jake rose in her estimation. If there were a ladder to measure his standing, he’d be climbing it steadily, rung by rung.
“Thank you for sharing that,” she said softly. “You didn’t have to, you know.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “I didn’t mean to get too personal.”
“Don’t worry. It didn’t offend me. I just realize how painful personal topics can be to disclose.”
“It’s not a subject I usually chat about, but something about you makes me want to tell you everything about me.” His look was intense and a bit unsure. “But, to be honest, we’re edging into an area that makes me uncomfortable.”
He might as well have dumped the crystal pitcher of ice water in her lap. Her face must have registered her shock, because he explained quickly: “I’m afraid this conversation is going to give you the wrong impression of my family and me. I had a very happy childhood, all in all. This one stage was blessedly short-lived, but memorable. I like to think it made me stronger. I know it served that function for my father.”
“Well, I also had a pleasant childhood, although it was, at the time, unconventional. My parents were both killed in an automobile accident—”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he murmured sympathetically.
“Thank you, but I wasn’t even two at the time, so I don’t have anything but vague unshaped memories. My grandparents stepped into the breach and took over, never letting me have a moment that wasn’t filled to overflowing with love.”
She smiled as the memories washed over her. They were wonderful people, her grandparents. She wished they could have met Jake, and she said so aloud.
“I can see their love in you still,” he said, his gaze resting softly on her face.
It was the best thing he could have said. Tess felt their legacy daily, the strong basis of faith and trust they had instilled in her early.
The waitress chose that moment to appear at their table and take their orders. Tess quickly studied the menu and selected the salmon pasta in pesto sauce.
“That does sound good,” Jake said. “Maybe I’ll switch my choice from the filet mignon.”
The waitress stood by patiently while they sorted through the side dishes and salads that accompanied their entrees, leaving them in solitude at last.
The conversation took a lighter turn, as they discussed television shows they enjoyed. Both admitted to liking half-hour situation comedies, and when Jake allowed that his favorites were the late-night reruns of the old black-and-white shows, Tess agreed happily.
They ran through some of the more memorable I Love Lucy episodes and were just reliving the famous assembly-line sequence in the chocolate factory when their salads arrived.
Tess didn’t know it was possible to do such wonderful things with a salad. The heated dressing was heavenly, and the butter flavored with sun-dried tomato and a hint of Parmesan cheese was exquisite on the warm rolls, clearly fresh from the oven.
“You know, I could have a whole meal of this alone,” she said at last. “I’m going to try adding seasoning to butter at home, but I doubt I can do this justice. This is scrumptious!”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it. You said this is your first time here?” he prompted.
She nodded. “I’ve been meaning to come for a long time, but I’ve never gotten around to it. Do you come out here often?”
“Not as often as I’d like,” he confessed. “Panda’s keeps me pretty busy.” He pushed his salad plate to the side and lowered his voice. “I’d like your feedback on something. But first I need your promise that this will stay confidential.”
“Sounds pretty serious.”
“It is.”
“Then I can’t promise.” At his look of surprise she explained. “I decided a couple of years ago not to put myself in morally compromising spots. And part of that was not making promises that make me uneasy. This one does that.”
“There’s nothing morally compromising in this!” he protested.
“But I don’t know that,” she reminded him gently. “You haven’t told me anything. For all I know, you may be about to tell me your plans to rob First Central Bank next Wednesday.”
“Rob a bank!” His words rang out loudly, and several diners turned to him with surprised looks on their faces. He grinned sheepishly and waved his hand apologetically to them.
“Well, now that they all think I’m a master criminal—”
“Hardly a master criminal,” she interrupted. “I don’t think a master criminal would announce his plans to a crowded restaurant.”
“That’s true. But what I want to talk to you about isn’t criminal or anything like that. It’s business,” he said.
She laughed. “A master criminal you’re not, and a master businessperson I’m not. Why on earth would you ask my opinion about a business matter?”
“Here’s the deal. I’m thinking about moving Panda’s downtown.”
She sat up straight. “You’re kidding me! Panda’s downtown?”
“Sssh!” He glanced around the crowded dining room, but no one seemed to have heard. “I’m not sure yet. I’m just tossing the idea around.”
“Well, a coffeehouse downtown would be welcomed by the business owners—I can assure you of that,” she said, trying to sound calm when in fact she wanted to shout with anticipation. The idea was spinning cartwheels in her head.
Panda’s downtown! The contribution that move would make to economic regrowth was nearly unfathomable. If Panda’s moved, other trendy restaurants and shops in the south end might follow. It could be the initial step in a trend that signaled the necessary revitalization of the historic downtown!
“So you do think it’s a good idea?” he persisted cautiously.
“What do I have to do—a wild dance of joy?” She grinned at him.
“That would be interesting but unnecessary, I think. No, I’m serious. What do you think?”
“I love it! Do you have a location selected yet? There are some wonderful old buildings that would be ideal. There’s one down on the riverfront with a wide span of a back wall. You could break through it—I’m sure the owner would allow construction—and be able to serve in the back, alfresco, in the summer.”
She warmed to her subject, becoming more enthusiastic by the minute. When she finally began to run down, she realized he was staring at her, his chin cupped in his hand. “Wow,” was all he said.
Tess fussed unnecessarily with her napkin. “Well, it is a topic near and dear to my heart. I’m a downtown girl, you know. I honestly don’t see what the appeal is in the south end. Not a single tree grew there naturally, except for some old homesteader’s shelterbelt trees that escaped the ax, and they exist only through the good graces of who knows what.”
“The End is safer. It’s cleaner. We have a lot more traffic out there. I see an excitement there that I honestly don’t sense downtown.”
She had done it. She had unwittingly insulted him and his original business decision. She quickly tried to make amends. “I’m sorry. I don’t get over there very often—” She bit her tongue to keep from speaking the rest of the thought, that she purposely avoided that part of town.
“That’s all right. I know there’s a solid division in the city between downtown and the End. Each thinks it has the advantage over the other.”
She nodded. “Considering how you feel about the End, why are you considering bringing Panda’s downtown?”
The vigor came back into his demeanor. “I do appreciate the historic setting of downtown. And I like the mayor. If anyone can make this new project work, she most certainly can. It would be exciting to be part of it.”
“But—?” she prompted.
“But I have no assurances—and a lot of questions. What if she loses the next election? What if she can’t get the rest of the business community behind her? What if, despite the city’s best intentions, the w
hole thing flops? What then?”
They weren’t questions she hadn’t heard and fielded a hundred times, but for once, the ready, pat answers wouldn’t serve. It became real, this chance they were asking businesspeople to take. Invest in downtown. Invest their money. Probably most of it. And with nothing to promise in return.
Now the doubt had a face and a name. Jake’s. And her answer became vitally important. She sent a quick prayer heavenward, asking for guidance in what she was about to say to him.
She chose her words carefully. “Beginning your business in the End was a risk. You had no guarantee it’d go.”
He shook his head. “No. It was a risk, but not a great one. There was no other coffeehouse, and the time was right. The only risk now if I stay there is that the appeal may fall off in a few years. But then the challenge would be to adapt.”
“Okay,” she conceded. “Let’s talk about moving Panda’s.”
“On the downside,” he said, “I risk losing my established customers.”
“No,” she argued, “they’ll follow you.”
“Maybe, but a great number of them will simply move to another place in the End. I no longer have the monopoly on coffeehouses out there.”
“But you would downtown,” she pointed out. “No other place there is like Panda’s.”
“And, on the other hand,” he continued, “although I might lose some in the move, a significant number downtown would come to Panda’s, not just businesspeople like you, but those who live there.”
“What you want is a guarantee,” she stated at last, sensing an impasse. “You don’t lose anything, but you gain substantially.”
He grinned. “Well, that would be nice. Is the downtown commission by any chance offering something like that?”
“Nice try, but no.”
“So what do you say to me, to make me bring Panda’s downtown?”
She deliberated before she spoke. “I say, follow your heart. You’re right—it’s going to be exciting for the downtown in the next couple of years. If you want to be part of that excitement, then join us. But don’t do it if your heart isn’t in it 100 percent. This is going to be a long-range commitment, and you need to be willing to be in it for the duration. About the last thing this project needs is people who will fall away as it begins rolling along.”
