Caterina

by Patricia Paris

  “I’m not getting pissy! If those windows don’t get delivered soon, and I can’t switch things around, it’s going to push us back another week. With Thanksgiving next week, make that two, since we’re not working Thursday or Friday.”

  “We’ve all had to deal with delays before, Liam. Yeah, it sucks, but something always comes up to throw a schedule off. You know that. So, whatever’s been going on with you the last few days, get over it. If you’re not slamming things around, you’re nitpicking over something trivial. Yesterday you reamed Elliot out because you didn’t like the way he tucked the wrap near the foundation wall. In case you haven’t noticed, people are starting to avoid you.”

  “There’s nothing going on with me. And you’re the last one to point a finger at someone for wanting things done right, Burke.”

  Liam started to push past his brother and felt his cell vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the screen. “You better be calling to tell me my windows are on the way,” he said when he saw the number.

  He swiped the screen to accept the call. “Liam Dougherty,” he said in a firm tone and cast a glance at his brother.

  Burke shook his head and walked away. Liam frowned after him. He wasn’t the one who had Caterina, the control freak, breathing down his neck for an account of every minute of every day. And after what happened in her room the day before yesterday, he didn’t particularly want to deal with her any more than he absolutely had to.

  After getting a guarantee from the owner of the window company that his windows would be there on Monday, Liam ended the call, then joined his crew inside the building. If the windows arrived as promised, they could get everything sealed in before they halted work for the holiday.

  He’d still need to play some catch up, but he could probably shift some of the subs, as Burke had suggested, and manage to get back on schedule. Then he wouldn’t have to tell Caterina they were behind and have her trying to micromanage him.

  She needed to get another job until they were done with the construction. Something to keep her busy so she’d stop trying to do his. What did she do all day, anyway?

  Liam conjured an image of her sitting at the top of the attic stairs. What was in those boxes that was so damn important she couldn’t wait for Antonio to take them down to her room? He’d considered turning around and leaving when he’d first seen her, before she knew he was there. But when he realized what she was attempting, he couldn’t let her endanger herself that way.

  Yeah, and look where that got you. Locked in her room, supposedly by some crazy ancestral ghost, with a kiss as ransom.

  He didn’t know what to believe about the story she’d fed him. A ghost aunt who held people hostage until they did what she wanted? It was a big pill to swallow, but he hadn’t been able to figure out how Caterina could have locked the door or how it had just drifted open after Rosa supposedly got what she wanted.

  And why would Caterina try to trick him into kissing her? He doubted she’d wanted to lock lips with him any more than he had with her. Not that he hadn’t wondered what she’d taste like. That didn’t mean he’d intended to find out. He’d just been curious.

  He wasn’t curious anymore. He was furious. Furious because she’d made him burn in a way he hadn’t imagined possible. Not with her. Maybe not with any woman. And now, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t wipe the taste of her from his mind. Worse, he had a dangerous craving for more.

  THERE WOULD BE eleven for dinner tomorrow. Caterina would be cooking for a crowd and was glad for it.

  She would make all the traditional fare because that’s what everyone looked forward to, expected, and because it was tradition. But she would put her own touch on things: a twist on the stuffing for the turkey; the sweet potato casserole; add a bit of lemon and lime zest to the cranberry sauce. Just a few little tweaks to infuse some surprise to tease the palate.

  Thanksgiving had always been Caterina’s favorite holiday. She used to love helping her mom with the meal, breaking up bread to dress the turkey, and grinding fresh cranberries in the old, metal hand grinder that they would bolt to the side of the table and then manually turn the handle to crush the berries. Cat still used it, not because it was convenient—it wasn’t—but because it was a link to her mom, a connection. It was during those times, spent with her mother in the kitchen, that her love of cooking took root.

  As she headed for the kitchen to start prepping things, the front door swung open, and Burke, Liam’s brother, walked into reception with a little girl in tow.

  “Good morning, Burke.”

  No one else was in reception, so Cat stopped to see if she could help him with anything. “This is the first time I’ve seen you over here. Are you looking for your brother?”

  “Hey, Caterina. No, for Antonio. I’ve got a remodeling job starting up next month that I brought him in on. I thought if he was around I could grab a few minutes to talk to him about it.”

  “He’s not here. He and Lucia volunteered to pick up some of the stuff I need for tomorrow’s meal, so I could do the baking and some of the prep work. They probably won’t be back for at least another hour. Do you want me to have him call you later?”

  He shook his head. “That’s okay. I’ll catch up with him next week.”

  “So, who’s this?” Cat asked, smiling down at the adorable girl holding Burke’s hand. She had his eyes, the same blue-green that his brother had as well, but dark hair, inherited from her mother no doubt, as Burke’s was blond, like Liam’s. It made for a stunning combination. Burke would probably have his hands full fending off the boys when she got older. She was going to be a beauty.

  “This is Riley. She’s—”

  His cell phone rang, and he glanced down at the screen. “Sorry. It’s one of our clients. Do you mind?”

  Caterina shook her head. “Take it,” she said, waving a hand in the air.

  Burke listened a moment, frowned. “I’m sorry he’s giving you a hard time, Mrs. Fey. Let me see what I can do. I think the county offices close at one today because of the holiday, but I’ll shoot over there now to see what I can do, okay?”

  He listened again. Cat could hear a woman’s voice on the other end. She couldn’t make out the words, but from her tone she sounded quite distressed.

  “I know it’s upsetting,” Burke said soothingly, “but I’ll get it straightened out. The stairway is supposed to be grandfathered, so he shouldn’t be able to do that. Just hang tight, and I’ll call you as soon as I know something.”

  He disconnected a moment later and shook his head.

  “Problem?” Cat asked.

  “County inspector put a stop work order on one of our jobs. Shawn’s the lead on it, but he took the day off, so he could go with his wife to her obstetrics appointment, which is why the client called me. Now I’m going to have to go talk to the chief inspector to see what I can do.”

  Burke looked down at Riley and sighed. “I’m really sorry, honey, but we’re not going to be able to go to Chuck E. Cheese’s for lunch. I’ve got to take care of a problem for work, and unfortunately, you’re going to have to come with me. But I’ll make it up to you, okay? I promise I’ll take you another time.”

  Riley looked down at her feet. “It’s okay,” she said with an accepting but disappointed sigh. “Am I going to be bored out of my gourd?”

  Caterina bit back a chuckle. She didn’t want to make light of the girl’s feelings, despite finding her question amusing. How many times had Burke had to drag her on an appointment and used that expression as a warning, she wondered, only to try to make it up to his daughter later?

  “I’m afraid you might be, but I don’t have any other option. Aunt Becca and Uncle Shawn had to go to the baby doctor, and I don’t know anyone else I could leave you with for a couple of hours on such short notice.”

  Riley sighed again. Cat’s heart went out to the girl. She could envision her sitting in a stuffy office, full of adults, with nothing to do while her dad trie
d to deal with work problems. No might about it, she’d absolutely be bored out of her gourd.

  “If you’d like,” she offered without giving it any more thought, “you could leave her here with me and pick her up after you deal with the problem. I’m going to be here all day making cookies and doing some other baking for the holiday, and I’d love having a helper in the kitchen.”

  “Seriously?” Burke asked. “You wouldn’t mind?”

  “No, of course not. I love kids, and if she’d rather stay here, I’d be happy for the company.”

  Riley was looking up at him like she wasn’t sure but thought maybe she’d just been granted a reprieve much more to her liking.

  Burke got down on his haunches, on her level. “Would you like to stay here and bake cookies with Miss Caterina, Riley, or do you want to come with me? It’s your choice.”

  “Oh, I’d much rather bake cookies,” she blurted without hesitation. “I like being with you and everything, but, well…”

  “It’s okay, pumpkin.” Burke leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “It doesn’t hurt my feelings if you’d rather stay here than go to some boring office with me. To tell you the truth, I’d much rather stay here and make cookies, too, but I have to take care of this problem.”

  “’Cause you’re an adult and sometimes adults have ‘sponsibilities they gots to take care of.”

  “Right.” He tapped her on the end of the nose and then stood back up and faced Cat again.

  “I shouldn’t be more than two hours, three at the most if they give me a problem.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Like I said, I don’t have any other plans for the day, so we’ll just be here making magic in the kitchen.”

  “Do you know magic?” Riley asked, her eyes going wide.

  “Cooking is like magic,” Cat said, smiling broadly at Riley’s expression. “Would you like me to show you how?” She held out a hand.

  Riley nodded enthusiastically and, giving a wave to Burke, skipped across the reception area and wove her fingers through Cat’s.

  “Okay then. I guess I’m old news when there’s magic brewing.” Burke winked at Cat. In looks, anyone seeing him and Liam together would easily guess they were brothers, but Cat thought the similarity ended there. She’d never met their brother Shawn but guessed there’d be a strong resemblance there as well.

  Burke seemed easygoing, friendly, approachable. From her limited exposure to him, she liked him. She could say none of those things about Liam and wondered what had happened in his life that made him the way he was.

  “WOULD YOU LIKE to do the other one by yourself?” They were putting together pumpkin rolls that would go on tomorrow’s dessert table. Her mother had always made them for the holidays, so she kept up the tradition. Caterina had made the sponge cakes the day before, but she and Riley had made the cream cheese filling together and were now finishing them off.

  “Sure.” Riley unrolled the cake log the way Cat had shown her and peeled off the wax paper that kept it from sticking to itself. Scooping up a large dollop of the filling, she slathered it on the cake, glancing up at Caterina every few seconds for confirmation that she was doing it correctly.

  “You’re doing a great job, Riley. Are you sure you’ve never made these before?”

  “I never did. I never even baked anything else either.” She held the tip of her tongue against her upper lip, concentrating intently on the job at hand, scooping up more filling, and spreading until she’d managed to cover the entire cake.

  “Can I roll it up like the other one too?”

  “Go for it. When you’re done, we’ll wrap them in plastic wrap and put them in the refrigerator. Tomorrow, when it’s time to set out desserts, I’ll sprinkle them with confectioners’ sugar to make them pretty.”

  When the second roll was complete, Riley ran her finger around the empty mixing bowl to scrape up the remnants of cream. “My dad lets me make waffles in the toaster, but this is more fun.” She licked the filling off her finger and then looked up at Cat with an impish grin.

  “I’m a big fan of toaster waffles myself.” Cat pulled a box of plastic wrap out of the long drawer on the work island and tore off two pieces. “I like to cover mine with fruit and whipped cream. What about you?”

  “I only had them plain, but I like whipped cream. Maybe my dad will buy some and I can try that.”

  “You only put syrup on them?” Cat asked, as she wrapped the pumpkin rolls in plastic.

  “No.” Riley shook her head. “Just toasted.”

  Who ate toaster waffles plain? Were her parents trying to limit her sugar intake?

  After putting the pumpkin rolls in the refrigerator, Cat returned to the island and pulled the two trays of macaroons forward that had been cooling there after she and Riley made them. Cat had let Riley form the cookies before putting them into the oven. If she’d done it herself, they’d all be the exact same size, measured out and leveled off, in perfect rows, precise.

  As it was, no two looked the same. Some were the size of grapes, some of golf balls, and a few were big enough to share. A few others were flattened like pancakes and had turned out to be macaroon crisps instead of the soft, chewy cookies most people were used to.

  Cat had caught herself about to reshape Riley’s cookies as she made them, pretty them up, even them out, when she’d been struck with a memory of one of her own first baking experiences. Mom had let her make a cake for a Fourth of July party. She’d only been a couple of years older than Riley was now. She didn’t remember if it had come out lopsided or tasted any good, but she did remember how proud she’d felt that she’d done it on her own.

  “Do we get to put chocolate on these now like you said?” Riley asked.

  “Yep. We’re going to dip some of them in chocolate, and we’ll leave some plain. That’s what this is for.” Cat reached for the chocolate she’d had warming in a small melting pot on the side of the island. “I’ll do the first one to show you how, and then you’re on your own, kid.”

  She took one of the cookies, turned it upside down, dipped the top into the chocolate, and gave it a slight swirl to prevent drips as she lifted it out. She put it on a piece of parchment and then slid the pot of chocolate closer to Riley.

  “Your turn, sweetie.”

  Riley took a cookie and plunged the top into the chocolate, getting as much on her fingers as she did the macaroon. She put it on the paper, dripping chocolate on the island as she transferred it, and then scratched her nose with the back of her hand, leaving a trail of the chocolate on her cheek and upper lip. What remained on her fingers she licked off.

  “How’s that?” Riley, a chocolate-faced munchkin, beamed up at Cat with pure delight shining from her beautiful, aquamarine eyes.

  “I couldn’t have done it any better.” Cat ran a hand over Riley’s hair. “It’s perfect.”

  Riley’s face lit up, and she reached for another cookie to dip.

  “Thanks for helping me today, Riley. I hope you’re having a good time because you’ve certainly made it more fun for me.”

  “Yes.” Riley’s head bobbed up and down emphatically. “I’m having a great time. Daddy lets me help make stuff sometimes too. I’m not allowed to use the sharp knives yet or cook on the stove, but he lets me do toast and make sandwiches and stuff like that. But this is way funner.”

  “I’m glad you’re having fun. I used to love spending time in the kitchen with my mother when I was growing up: cooking, baking, learning the names of all the different spices and what they tasted like, how different ingredients could completely change the taste of something. When I say cooking is a kind of magic, it’s true.”

  Cat picked up one of the macaroons, gave it a quick swirl in the melted chocolate, and instead of putting it on the parchment to let the chocolate firm up, bit into it with a moan of delight. “You take a few unrelated ingredients, some that don’t taste good alone, but you mix them together, bake them, and then—”

  She leaned lower,
close to Riley. “Magic,” she whispered with reverence and a wink for the girl. “Sweet, chewy, delicious, golden-brown mounds of magic.”

  Riley giggled. “Can I have one?”

  Cat straightened and slung a hand on her hip. “Well, of course you can! You were the chef, after all.”

  Riley followed Cat’s example, although her swirl was more of a dunking that included most of her fingers again. She took a bite, chewed, and looked up with a dimpled grin that pierced Cat’s heart and filled it with longing. She wanted a child of her own someday, and if she could place an order, one like this would suit her fine.

  “These are yummy!” Riley finished her cookie, then stuck her fingers in her mouth and proceeded to suck off the chocolate that hadn’t found its way to her upper lip, her chin, or the tip of her nose.

  “We’ll pack some in a tin for you to take home to share with your mom and dad since, like I said, you were the chef, after all. I’ll bet they’ll be super proud of what a great job you did making them. You can take some of the pumpkin roll, too, since you did all the filling and rolling. And I’ll give you a bag of the sugar you need to sprinkle on top to make it look prettier.”

  Cat reached into one of the cabinets under the island, where she kept an assortment of containers, and pulled out a tin large enough to hold a dozen cookies and half of a pumpkin roll. She got a sandwich baggie out of the drawer, put about a half cup of confectioners’ sugar in it, and set it beside the container.

  “I don’t gots a mom,” Riley said matter-of-factly, as she continued dipping and lining up cookies on the parchment. “She had to go to heaven when I was little, but Daddy’s not going to believe I did these by myself. He’ll be as proud as Peter. He’s a peacock! Daddy read me about them in Peter the Peacock, and Peter’s the proudest of all the animals.”

  Riley licked more chocolate from her fingers, errantly wiped a little more down the side of her chin. “He likes to strut. Sometimes when I do something good my dad says he’s proud as Peter Peacock, and he does this—”