* * *
“You’re here. Good.” Jacob rose from his desk in the work trailer as Josie came up the metal steps the next afternoon. He crossed the narrow space and opened the door. “I’ve just printed up the signature copies of the amended agreement. Carrington agreed on all points except one.”
“A deal breaker?” She lifted her right brow and gave him the same look his daughter offered on a regular basis. Part scoffing, part teasing.
“I hope not. They want a long-term contract. They want to know they’ve got you on board for at least five years. They’d prefer ten for longevity’s sake, but I talked them down to five. The two-year option your lawyer cited is off the table because if you walk after two years, we lose a whole lot of work and momentum. Are you all right with that?”
“Five it is.”
“Good.” He handed her the pen, relieved. He’d been surprised to see the twenty-four-month amendment, and not surprised when Carrington officials balked. No new enterprise wanted to risk a major schedule upset two years in. She bent to sign the contract. When she did, her long rust-brown hair tumbled over her shoulder, obscuring her face from his angle.
The warm smell of cinnamon wafted to him. And nutmeg? Maybe. With something else, a pungent, woodsy scent. She smelled of fall in the spring, and why did he find that singularly attractive?
She finished signing and flipped her hair back over her shoulder as she straightened.
The scent hit him again, hints of warm spices on a vibrant May afternoon. And for some reason, on her, it fit. “Is it all right if I send a crew over first thing in the morning to gather the equipment and supplies?”
“Tomorrow is fine. And if it makes things easier, I can have all of my stuff out of the restaurant and apartment by Friday.”
Easier? The delay caused by her argument over eminent domain had pushed the lakeshore part of the project into crisis mode. A lakeside hotel with no docking facilities wasn’t conducive to a successful grand opening. “You don’t need the full thirty days?”
“Not if your crew is doing the big stuff. I travel light.”
“We’d appreciate it, Josie.”
“All right.” She tucked her purse strap a little farther up her shoulder. “I’ll head out. Is Addie at school?”
“For the next four weeks. Followed by summer vacation and a two-week spot with no child care.”
“How does that happen?”
He made a face. “I didn’t realize that the school calendar up north differed from the South. I assumed, and it got me into trouble.”
“What will you do with Addie?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. It’s the worst possible timing. I even checked with your cousin, the one who runs the other preschool everyone talks about.”
“Rory.”
“Yes, but she’s closed for those two weeks, too.”
“It’s kind of a thing here, for the schools to close down and reopen after the Independence Day weekend. I didn’t realize that was unique.”
“I suppose every area has their scheduling quirks.”
“Climate and agriculturally inspired. Or folks just need a little time to regroup. If you need help, let me know.”
Let her know?
“We’ve got several nice college kids who come back in May to work summer jobs,” she explained. “A lot of them might be spoken for already, but it’s a possibility. Or I could watch her. I’m going to be staying in my aunt’s apartment over her garage. It’s right in the village, just behind The Square. There would be kids in and out all the time, the whole Gallagher crew. And I’m not working until you have a kitchen in place over here, so it could work. Just a thought.”
“I’ll think about it, sure.” He wouldn’t think about it. He didn’t know her. He didn’t know the college kids she talked about, either.
Did you know the teacher at the day school before you signed Addie up? No.
That was different. It was a registered school.
His internal voice sighed. Because of course nothing bad could ever happen at a registered school.
“I expect you’re busy now, but I’d like to go over the kitchen layout before everything’s put in place. Placement of the gas lines is pretty clutch in an operation like mine.”
“I’ll have the kitchen designer set up a time with you.”
“Perfect.” She didn’t push about Addie.
Good.
The thought of leaving Addie with anyone bothered him, which meant he needed to look into a nanny wherever they decided to settle. And that meant a house. A yard. Serious commitments for a man who had been married to his work for a long time.
A firm in Texas had contacted him about overseeing a major project bordering Waco. And a major Arizona development corporation had sent out feelers through their chief operating officer because they were contemplating a three-stage, multiyear all-inclusive adult living community with recreational built-ins.
Carrington was slated to begin a new Outer Banks project. That one would win the choice if his parents hadn’t sold their Georgia home and moved to lower Florida. His mother had proclaimed she was ready to be done with winter, but maybe that wasn’t the whole story. Maybe being in the town where she’d raised two children and lost one was just too much.
He walked to his car, wondering what his mother would think of the long, cold winter he’d just experienced here.
She’d hate it, but he hadn’t minded it at all. He’d enjoyed it, actually. So had Addie. They’d gone sledding and ice skating together, and he hadn’t minded that they held each other up on the ice because that’s kind of what they’d been doing all along.
His phone rang.
He’d figure out those two gaping weeks in child care later. Right now there was work to be done, and then he needed to drive to the southeast end of the lake and pick up Addie. If the late-day rain held off, maybe he’d take her for a walk along the public beach at the north end. She’d like that. And as multiple work crews worked long hours to get the Eastern Shore Inn up and running by July 1, he wouldn’t mind a short break himself.
* * *
“Stan’s Frozen Custard doesn’t fix everything, but it fixes most things.” Kimberly bumped cones with Josie while Drew fed the soft, delicious dessert to their toddler son with a spoon. “So you’re moving up in the world, Jo-Jo.” She teased with the childhood nickname. “The dive owner is now part of the major resort hotel chain. Who knows? If they like you enough, we can make you a franchise and folks up and down the coast can enjoy Bayou Barbecue all year round.”
“What are we talking about?” Drew applied a soft napkin to Davy’s cheek before the little fellow could blot chocolate ice cream with a white cotton sleeve.
“The Eastern Shore Inn is letting Josie move the Bayou Barbecue into their first-floor casual restaurant area, the part overlooking the beach. Isn’t that amazing?” Kimberly’s enthusiasm didn’t match the look Drew shot Josie.
“Amazing, all right. What made you think of that, Josie?” He didn’t call her out, but she read the warning in his voice. “Last I knew you were trying to block the sale of your land, and now a few days later, you’re consorting with the enemy?” He lifted his eyes again, and she saw when he made the connection. “You think this is a good idea, Josie? Really?”
How could she answer that in front of Kimberly?
You could try telling Kimberly the truth...
There was no one around right then. They were alone, at the water’s edge, overlooking the strip of public beach bordering the north end of the lake. A beautiful night, quiet and still, before the busy hum of summer and cottage dwellers grew to a roar. “I—”
“Hey! Miss Josie! Hey there!”
Josie swallowed the words when a sweet Southern voice hailed her. She made a quarter turn, and there was Addie, racing up the beach, copper curls fl
ying as she kicked up sand. Jacob followed behind her at a more leisurely pace. “It’s hard to run in sand! Did you know that?”
“Best training there is for distance runners. How are you?”
“I am so good! My dad promised me we’d walk along the beach and then get ice cream, and I think that’s like the best two things of all, don’t you?”
Drew had finished wiping Davy down. He stood. Kimberly was looking at Addie, delighted with the girl’s enthusiasm, while Drew gazed at Josie.
A part of her hated that he knew, but when she read his look of understanding, she tried to calm her racing heart.
“Hey, Dad, do you care if I sign up for the advanced babysitting course with Callan and Tee for next weekend?” Drew’s daughter Amy had crossed over from the Gallagher side of the street. “It’s an all-day Saturday thing, and I’d kind of like to get it done before my baseball schedule goes into full swing.”
Amy had made the cut for the hardball team when she first arrived in town and had been playing with the boys ever since.
Drew looked at Kimberly. “Are you expecting to have that baby before Saturday?”
“I can’t think of anything that would make me happier,” she told him, and winked at Amy. “If I’m not here to help with the running around, Josie’s got some time off. Do you mind, Jo-Jo?”
“Not at all.”
“Jo-Jo?” Addie giggled out loud. “That’s like such a fun name, isn’t it?”
“For little kids and sassy cousins, yes.” Jacob drew closer. She’d bent to reply to Addie.
Now she straightened. “Perfect night for a walk along the beach,” Josie said.
“Our first since the weather broke,” said Jacob. “I heard this end of the lake is a major gathering spot over the summer.”
“With ice cream!” Addie fist-pumped the air.
“Stan’s Frozen Custard is the best around,” said Kimberly. “You must have just missed last summer’s season.”
“We came in on the end, but with start-up details and Addie’s schooling, it took me a couple of weeks to get acclimated,” Jacob replied. “Settling into a new project and a new place can be taxing.”
Too taxing to do fun things with a beloved child? Irritation snaked its way up Josie’s spine. “I’m sure it is.”
Drew shot her a quick look of warning. She pretended not to notice as she asked the next question. “Have you decided on a project when this one’s done?”
Jacob shook his head. “There are offers on the table. Nothing that’s jumping out at me at the moment. Once Addie’s done with school, I’ll get serious about locking something in. My daughter’s not a fan of hot, humid stretches, and while I’ve got a couple of good options in the Southwest, I think she’d be miserable down there.” He palmed her head with his already suntanned hand, and when she tipped a smile up to him, the effect was pure joy. “She must be carrying northern blood in her veins because once we got here, she took to Grace Haven like a duck takes to water.”
Breath escaped Josie.
She tried to will her heart to slow down, but it refused to listen.
Did Jacob mean that? Was he sending out feelers? Or was he simply making a fatherly comment about a cute kid?
“I don’t like things really hot, unless maybe it’s for a little while,” Addie announced to the entire group. “And I loved going sledding with my dad. It was like the best ever!” She raised a finger and pretended to underline the last three words for emphasis. “And he really, really, really liked taking me.”
“I’ve never been quite that cold or that happy in my life,” Jacob admitted, and the way he said it put Josie’s heart back in a sinus rhythm.
He loved Addie.
The sweet emotion was there in everything he said or did. Did that make her the bad guy in all of this?
How could it, when she was the one led astray? But then she remembered her driver’s education instructor, drilling into their heads that the person with the last possible chance to stop an accident from happening bears as much guilt as the person who moves in error.
If you can stop, do it. Always be willing to apply the brakes.
That’s what Mr. Bronkowski used to say as he lectured about reducing speed to save lives, and his common-sense directives had stayed with her all these years.
Was she making trouble? Or fixing trouble? Seeing Addie grin up at her adoptive uncle/father, Josie wasn’t quite as sure as she’d been a few hours before.
Chapter Five
I will not cry.
Regret mixed with apprehension as Josie watched the skilled team of men package and roll her cache of kitchen equipment into clean, white panel trucks. They handled things with care, and the man and woman assigned to prepackage the smaller kitchen essentials treated her scuffed-up corn bread pans with as much tenderness as they did her stoneware ramekins for crème brûlée, a Bayou mainstay on the dessert menu.
It wasn’t the move she was regretting. The choice to stay had been taken out of her hands.
But maybe she was being foolish on multiple levels. Would she be subject to the whims of hotel executives by renting their space? Would they know better than to boss the kitchen boss? And more important, had she traded her hard-won autonomy for a chance to mess up two lives?
“I can’t believe they work this quickly.”
The rolling whir of metallic dollies had screened Jacob’s car. His voice took her by surprise. He apologized quickly, which only made him seem nicer. “Didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to make sure things were going all right, and Dale had texted me that the smoker might have to come in pieces.”
Her smoker was a brute of an outdoor apparatus. She should have built the massive device on a trailer, but didn’t because she never imagined moving it. “It’s custom-made. And huge. And ridiculously heavy.”
He followed her to the far side of the building and whistled lightly when he caught sight of her pride-and-joy piece of equipment. “Whoa.”
“I should have made it mobile, but I wasn’t planning on smoking at catered events. And it seemed silly to mount it when I planned on staying here, but as you can see, it’s a monster.”
She wasn’t sure what she expected as Jacob inspected the oil-tank-size smoker with layered smoking racks inside, but when he snapped several pictures from multiple angles, she had to ask. “Are you taking pictures to show the insurance company when we make a claim after we try to move it?”
“Not going to move it.”
“No?”
He shook his head.
“But that’s a cornerstone of Bayou beef, pork and chicken,” she told him. “Knowing what to smoke, how to season, spacing, crowding, layering. My smoker is an integral part of how I do business, Jacob.”
“If it’s been created once, it can be created again, right?”
She supposed so, but who would—
“I think it’s more cost-effective if we rebuild on-site, and to avoid this problem ever again, we’ll use a heavy-duty trailer base. I’d also like to commission a smaller version for catering. Even if we’re not really smoking per se at the event, people like the effect of having the smoker on hand.”
“You look that far ahead? Even though your part in all this will be over by then?” His oversight would be complete in a few months. He’d mentioned that last evening.
Her question surprised him. “Because it’s the right way to do things, isn’t it? To plan this out with an eye toward the future? My dad always taught me to look ahead, plan big and dream bigger.” He shrugged. “If we’re going full tilt toward making the Bayou Barbecue part of the inn, knowing folks will love that you’re still right here on the lake, why not go at it with a workable plan? You’ve done catering here.” He indicated the two decorated vans parked on the backside of the lot. “Why should this year be any different?”
Clearly he was missing the importance of a timeline when it came to restaurant food. “Because we’re going to be closed for six weeks? Because it’s hard to schedule parties when your business is in limbo? I was tied up in litigation until this week,” she reminded him. “I didn’t take on anything, I refused all requests because I had no idea if I’d even be in business this summer, Jacob.”
He ran a hand across his chin and winced slightly. “I hadn’t considered that fully. This move isn’t just affecting a six-week window, it’s affected an entire season. But we can start booking for the late summer and fall season, can’t we? And if Carrington makes the announcement that you’re coming on board, and advertises accordingly...”
“And books a spot at the annual Christkindl and the Lumberjack Festival over in Macedon, plus any other festivals planned from Independence Day on—”
“That’s a great idea.” He tapped a message into his phone, then hit Send. “I’m going to have my assistant see what food vendor spaces might still be available at local festivals, and Carrington will cover the entry fees to lock in the space. If we can make up for some of the lost time by being a visible presence locally, that will help maintain the local clientele and get folks used to seeing you or whoever is running the catering truck out and about. Unfortunately, we’re hitting your name recognition at the worst possible time.” He looked upset by that for just a moment, but then he snapped his fingers and hooked his thumb toward the nearly finished inn up the beach. “Why do we have to wait?”
“Because I have no kitchen?” She pointed toward the second truck that had just pulled away, moving the guts of her endeavor into storage.
“What if we create a pseudo kitchen in the interim?” he asked. “If we can get enough equipment up and running to service the take-out shack, then we could keep business going, folks would still be able to get barbecue the first weeks of summer, and how hard can it be to have loaded cowboy baked potatoes and shaved beef or pork sandwiches? If we focus on simple, it could work, right?”
Her Secret Daughter Page 5
