“Are you talking about Pier 39 in San Francisco?” Monica asked.
The twins’ faces lit up. “Yeah, it’s so cool there!”
“All right, boys,” Courtney said, putting a hand on each of their shoulders. “Thank Miss Monica for the cupcakes and go find Fernanda. I’ll meet you at the fountain in the town square in a few minutes.”
The tow-headed twins thanked her in unison then bolted out the door.
“Wow,” Zoe remarked, looking at Courtney’s card. “The Wilkes-Vanderkamp businesses are worldwide. Offices in California, Kansas City, and Zurich.”
“If everything goes as planned, we’ll open additional offices in South Korea and India,” Courtney added absentmindedly, watching her boys race each other down the sidewalk.
“Biotech must be booming,” Zoe replied.
Courtney smiled, but her posture had gone rigid.
A beat passed before Gabe broke the silence and handed Courtney one of the small pastry boxes. “Here you go. A cupcake for you and one for Fernanda.”
“That’s very kind of you, but I think it’s going to take more than a cupcake to keep Fernanda happy.”
“It never hurts to try,” he answered.
“You know, Gabe,” Courtney began. Her real smile was back. “I was at the Aspen Food and Wine Classic a couple of years ago. I went to one of your tastings. The food was impeccable.”
“That’s very kind of you to say. I’m sorry I missed you. It was a crazy time. I barely had time to eat anything myself.”
“I was glad I got to see you win best new chef. It’s a well-deserved honor. I was happy you—”
The door to the bakery swung open before she could finish, and a young man stormed through the door. “We’re running really low on sticky buns. I need two dozen more.”
“You came in this morning,” Gabe said, crossing his arms.
“Yeah,” the kid answered.
“You picked up the order for six dozen buns?”
“Yeah, and Sam sent me to come to get more.”
“You’re from Park Tavern?”
The guy shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I’m kind of in a hurry.”
“Hold up a minute. All these sticky buns are for Park Tavern?” Gabe asked.
“It’s brunch, dude,” the guy replied as if that would explain everything.
Gabe frowned. “Monica.”
“Yeah.”
“Will you be okay if I join…” Gabe stared the kid down.
The guy swallowed hard. “Jonah.”
“If I accompany, Jonah, back to Park Tavern?”
“Dude, you can come,” Jonah said, finding his voice, “but if I don’t get back with those sticky buns, Sam will never let me hear the end of it.”
“I’m fine. Go ahead,” Monica replied. She also had no idea Park Tavern was purchasing pastries.
“I’ll join you,” Zoe said then glanced back at the work table. “Do you mind if I leave my gear?”
“No, not at all,” Monica answered.
Zoe looked between Gabe and out the window catty-corner across the street to Park Tavern. “If I’m not back before those strudels are done baking, will you snap a few pictures for me? I want to have them ready when I post the story.”
Monica nodded. “I can do that.”
“Courtney,” Zoe said and held up the business card. “One of us will be in touch with you regarding Oktoberfest.”
“I look forward to working with you,” Courtney said with what looked like a practiced grin.
Gabe was already at the door carrying a full tray of buns. In a matter of seconds, the trio was gone, and she and Courtney were alone.
“What’s that all about?” Courtney asked.
“I’m not sure if you know, but the Sam that the kid was talking about is Gabe’s older brother. They jointly own Park Tavern.”
“No, I didn’t know that.”
They watched the threesome cross the street.
Monica kept her gaze on Gabe, but she felt Courtney watching her.
She met her friend’s gaze. “Court, I’m sorry I never reached out to you over the years. I left Langley Park at the end of the summer and…”
“I know Monica. You left to be a model. Do you think I didn’t notice your face in all the magazines?”
Monica tried to read her friend, but Courtney had the same look in her eye as she did the last night she’d seen her, moments before she’d gone off with her brother.
Chip Wilkes.
Just the thought of him made her skin crawl.
She pushed the thought aside and focused on her friend. “How did you and Bryson end up together?”
“A lot can happen in twelve years.”
Monica couldn’t argue with that.
“Are you still friends with Andrea?” Court and Andrea had been pretty close all through high school.
“I haven’t seen Andrea in years. From what I hear, she gave up all material possessions and runs a meditation retreat somewhere in Utah.”
For a beat, neither of them said anything.
Monica tried to hold back a smile but couldn’t. “You’re kidding! Andrea?”
Courtney nodded. “I know. She’s the last person you’d expect to do that, isn’t she?”
“I’m happy for you, Court. I’m glad you’ll be helping with Oktoberfest. It’ll give us time to catch up. Are you still in Mission Springs?”
“We go back and forth between our homes in Mission Springs, California, and France.”
Monica nodded. She wanted to ask about Chip, but something held her back.
Courtney glanced out the window toward the town square. Her boys were running back and forth with a young woman chasing after them. “I’d better go. I’m not sure how long Fernanda’s going to last with them on her own.”
Monica grabbed an order pad off the counter and wrote down her cell phone number. “Call me when you get a free moment, Court.”
Courtney tucked a lock of her jet-black hair behind her ear and stroked her cheek. “I’d like that.”
It was an odd gesture. Monica felt a strange tingle from her friend’s touch.
“You’re still so beautiful,” Courtney said then turned and left the bakery.
Gabe followed Zoe and Jonah in through the back entrance of Park Tavern and into the kitchen. The place buzzed with activity.
“How are we doing with the eggs?” Sam asked.
“Fresh tray just went out.”
“Who’s got their eyes on the fruit?”
“I do, Sam. The strawberries and cantaloupe still look good.”
A cook brought a plate over from the griddle. “Food runner, please. Special order up. Gluten-free pancakes. Table fourteen.”
A runner took the plate and headed for the dining area. “Fourteen walks.”
Sam looked over his shoulder, and Gabe met his gaze.
“Jonah,” Sam said, ignoring him. He gestured with his chin toward the dining area. “You know where those sticky buns need to go.”
“I’m on it, Sam.” The kid nodded and took the tray from Gabe then headed toward the dining area.
“What the hell are you doing back here?” Gabe asked his brother.
“Crocheting doilies. What does it look like I’m doing?”
A muscle ticked in Gabe’s jaw. “It looks like you’re running a kitchen. Except you’re not a chef. You’re not even a cook. I thought you stuck to the front of the house and the bar?”
“We lost our chef last week, we’re short-staffed, and it’s Sunday brunch. If you happen to know anyone with any culinary skills, we could sure use the damn help. It’s all hands on deck, little brother.”
“Guys!” Zoe said. “Please, don’t kill each other! I see a few reporters I know from the local news channel in the dining area. I’m going to say hi and see if I can rope them into giving us some TV coverage for Oktoberfest. I’ll be back in a few, and then I can help with whatever you need.”
Sam gave Zoe a tight nod
.
“Jesus,” Gabe said under his breath. “If you needed help, you just had to ask.”
“Right, right!” Sam replied. “You’re a great communicator. Maybe I should send you an email or three hundred.”
Fuck! He deserved that. In the last couple of years, he’d left anything that wasn’t television related to his business manager and PR people. He’d told himself he was doing it to focus on the next step in his career. But when it came to Park Tavern, even the mention of where he’d come from used to leave a bad taste in his mouth.
He’d asked Sam to keep quiet regarding his partnership in the restaurant, and his brother had kept his word. Gabe had written Park Tavern off as bar food and chicken tender kiddie meals. He considered this kind of place beneath him.
What an arrogant prick he’d become!
He looked at the food, and a jolt of recognition hit him. These were his recipes. Someone on his team must have shared them with Sam.
A wave of shame washed over him. It should have been him. He should have been the one planning Park Tavern’s menu. He’d tried so hard to scrub out this life, and for what? A string of TV appearances. Cooking as a celebrity chef for the pampered elite.
Monica’s face flashed before his eyes. He was still on the adrenalin high from baking next to her. He touched the M on his chest.
His mise en place.
His Monica.
He was done measuring himself against this elusive idea, this unattainable ghost of who he thought he was supposed to be.
The truth was simple.
Langley Park was his home.
His roots were here.
And Monica was his first and only love. Their paths may have veered apart, but through a million twists of fate, they were back together.
It was as simple as that.
Or was it?
Corbyn, Chef Russo, Bread and Vine, his upcoming television commitments. He couldn’t just cut that life loose like hacking a dead branch off a tree. He released a tight breath. He’d figure it out. For the time being, his focus was Langley Park and Oktoberfest.
He walked over to the sink and washed his hand. Several of the cooks were throwing covert glances his way, but he was used to it. “Tell me about brunch service,” he called to his brother over his shoulder, ignoring his audience.
Sam sent a runner out with a fresh pan of bacon. “We’re wrapping up. It officially ends around two, but sometimes, we get a few stragglers.”
“And the gluten-free ticket?” Gabe questioned.
“Dietary restrictions are the only special orders we take today. I know most of the patrons with allergies or special diets. The crew knows to watch those plates like a hawk.”
“Okay,” Gabe said, surveying the kitchen.
They had less than an hour to go when a wide-eyed server approached Sam. Gabe dried off his hands and joined his brother.
“Um, who do I ask about this?” the young server asked, eyes dancing between the brothers.
“Me!” Sam and Gabe said in unison.
Sam gave him a wry grin then turned his attention to the waitress. “What is it, Addison?”
She glanced toward the front of the house where a decent sized group was filing in. “It’s the Camp Fire Kids. They just finished doing a community service project picking up trash around Lake Boley. They were wondering if it was too late to come for brunch.”
Sam looked up at the ceiling and shook his head.
“What?” Gabe asked.
“How many, Addison? Twenty like last time?”
She bit her lip and shook her head. “More like forty.”
Gabe glanced out into the dining area as kids and their parents filed in. He left Addison and Sam and went from station to station, mentally putting together a list of everything they had prepped. The old Chef Sinclair would have sent the group on their way, but not anymore. Brunch may almost be over, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to dismiss a bunch of hungry kids who had just volunteered to help the community.
“All right, everyone, eyes on me,” Gabe said above the hum of the kitchen.
The room quieted. Gabe met his brother’s gaze and gave him a nod. Sam lifted his chin in acknowledgment, his gaze softening.
“I’m Chef Gabe Sinclair, Sam’s brother, co-owner of Park Tavern, and now, your executive chef.”
The staff released a collective gasp, and the energy of the kitchen shifted. He knew everyone in the place recognized him. They were all whispering to one another every time he turned his back. He was sure they were expecting to see the tantrum throwing bad boy chef, but he was done being the food snob who screamed and threw fits.
“We’ve got extended service for forty. It looks like a bunch of Camp Fire Kids and their families just finished doing a community service project. Let’s reward them for their hard work and cook them something that’s going to knock their socks off.”
The kitchen remained quiet for a beat.
“Are you with me?” he asked, meeting the gaze of every person in the kitchen until he was eye to eye with his brother.
“Always,” Sam answered.
18
“Hello, Camp Fire Kids! I’m Chef Gabe. Did everyone enjoy their lunch?”
Park Tavern erupted into cheers, and Gabe couldn’t help smiling. This felt more real than winning any culinary competition, more genuine than any food critic’s praise.
A little girl who looked to be around eight or so with braided chestnut locks hugged him around his waist. “Thank you, Chef Gabe! Those were the best chicken nuggets ever! Way better than my daddy makes. He usually burns chicken.”
Gabe chuckled. Once upon a time, he wouldn’t have been caught dead preparing chicken tenders, but today, he was reminded of the power of food. A simple meal among friends and family didn’t have to include eight courses. Comfort food could be just as compelling as gourmet cuisine. He did put his own twist on the dish. Instead of just coating the chicken in egg and flour, he added the extra step of breading them with crushed pretzels. It came to him on the fly, and the Park Tavern cooks proved to be eager to learn from him and try something new. Crispy with a hint of salt, the children and their parents gobbled them up.
He was still a master chef, except now, he didn’t need to shove that reality down everyone’s throat. He’d earned it. He didn’t have to keep proving it to anyone, most importantly, himself.
Gabe took a closer look at the little girl. “Are you Zoe’s niece, Kate?” Zoe had emailed him pictures years ago when the girl was only a toddler, but he could see the resemblance.
A tall man with dark features and a beautiful woman with blond hair walked up.
“Kate beat us to you,” the man said, extending his hand.
“Ben Fisher!” Gabe replied with a grin. It had been years since he’d seen Zoe’s older half brother.
“It’s good to see you, Gabe! I wanted to thank you for putting on such a great spread for the Camp Fire Kids and to introduce you to my wife, Jenna Fisher.”
Gabe shook the woman’s hand. Years ago, when Kate was much younger, Ben’s first wife had died tragically by her own hand. He was overseas with Chef Russo at the time, but Sam had filled him in. He’d heard Ben remarried, maybe it was in an email from Sam or Zoe. He couldn’t remember. Thanks to putting his career as a TV chef at the forefront, he’d barely glanced at the message and then put it out of his mind.
“Hey, Mrs. Fisher!” Jonah said, carrying a tray of cupcakes.
Zoe had the great idea of asking Monica to send over a few trays of cupcakes to share with the kids. Jonah was helping out by running back and forth between the bakery and Park Tavern any time they ran low.
Jenna smiled brightly at the young man. “Hi, Jonah! How’s your mom?”
“She’s good! Rose Brooks has an apartment all lined up for us, and she starts work next week.”
“Jonah,” Sam called from the bar where he was mixing Shirley Temples. “I’m not paying you to talk to the pretty ladies,” he said and ga
ve the kid a playful wink.
“Sorry, Sam,” Jonah called. “I better get back to work,” he said with an air of confidence and brought the fresh tray over to a table where Monica was passing out cupcakes.
“Rose Brooks is the women’s shelter, right?” Gabe asked.
“It is,” Ben answered.
Jenna nodded. “I do quite a bit of volunteering there. The shelter helps women and children in crisis. Jonah’s been staying there with his mother. Sam always tries to hire the kids from Rose Brooks who are old enough to work. It’s done so much for Jonah. He’s like a different person from when I met him a few months ago.”
Monica walked over, brushing crumbs off her hands. “I remember you,” she said to Jenna. “You picked up the cupcake order for Langley Park Elementary a couple of days ago.”
“Yes, the kids don’t start back to school for another couple of weeks, but we had a literacy training for the teachers. Everyone loved the cupcakes. I was hoping to bring some home, but they were gone almost as soon as I opened the box.”
“Too bad,” Ben replied, holding his wife’s gaze. “I’m sure we could make room for some cupcakes in the pantry.”
Gabe looked from Ben to Jenna. Something weird was going on, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what was behind this cryptic cupcake conversation. “Monica Brandt,” he said, shifting gears, “this is Ben Fisher and his wife, Jenna, and their daughter, Kate. Ben is Zoe’s brother.”
“Half brother,” Zoe said joining them with a smirk. “Thank God, I got the good half. And don’t think I didn’t hear that pantry comment. You guys don’t want to go anywhere near the Fisher pantry. In fact, we may need to quarantine that entire kitchen.”
“Aunt Zoe!” Kate said, clearly done listening to the grownups talk. “Our pantry is great! Sometimes there are Cheerios everywhere, but they’re not too hard to clean up, right Jenna? Right, Daddy?”
“Did I hear there were cupcakes?” Jenna asked. A rosy blush had warmed her cheeks.
“Yeah!” Kate exclaimed. “Can I have one, Jenna? Look, the cupcake guy’s amazing!”
The adults looked over to see Jonah entertaining the children by balancing the sweet treat on his head.
“Jonah’s been a life saver today,” Monica said. “He’s been with me in the bakery the whole time you’ve been here, Gabe. He learns quick.”
The Complete Langley Park Series (Books 1-5) Page 97
