by Lynn Cahoon
Mia heard the television come on as her only answer. Training Christina to be a sous chef might be harder than she’d imagined. Running her fingers over the cookbook she’d left out that morning with the prep list, she remembered Isaac’s call. Could there be another reason Isaac’s sister had come to live with Mia? She locked her cookbook in the safe in her room. She’d been stupid before. Today she’d take paranoid.
Where was she going to get thirty servings of steak by tomorrow evening? And the side dishes had to completely change. Adele was paying for both grocery orders, no matter what Grans said.
She hoped the small country store had enough meat on hand. Or an idea.
As she opened the front door, she tripped over an envelope. The delivery service must have dropped it off late yesterday. They’d been busy in the kitchen, doing a trial run-through of the menu. The return address on the top was smeared, but the envelope was clearly addressed to Christina. Mia shoved the envelope into her purse. She’d give it to her when she got back. Or after the party, when she wouldn’t mind losing her apprentice.
A dusting of snow had fallen the night before, coating the town in white. Magic Springs looked like a Dickens-novel Christmas. The roads had been plowed. Someone had run a small blade—probably on the front of a four-wheeler—over the sidewalks in front of the school and down the two blocks toward Majors. Small towns, Mia mused. No way had the city paid for this type of service. It had to be one of the homeowners in the village who donated their early morning service for the pleasure of driving their toy around the snow-covered streets.
Mia took a deep breath, trying to focus on solving her menu problems rather than being filled with the quiet beauty of the town. Beef. Maybe a garlic mashed potato? Or a scalloped? Or would Adele consider the menu too homey for her party? Would there be any way Majors could pull off an order of fresh asparagus? It was April, even though the town wouldn’t acknowledge spring for a few weeks at the earliest. There had to be asparagus ready to harvest somewhere.
Stomping the snow off her boots, she pushed open the glass grocery slider. A bell rang over the door, echoing in the seemingly empty store. No cashier stood at the register, no shoppers filled the aisles. Mia glanced at her watch: 5:15. The store closed early during the winter, but she’d just made it.
She grabbed a cart and headed to the butcher block in the back. The meat case stood empty and her heart sank. A bell sat on the top of the case and she rang it once. No one came through the doors. Maybe Adele would just have to suck it up and eat the food Mia had planned to serve.
Mia could see her grandmother’s frown. Again, she banged on the bell, harder this time, picturing Adele’s unsmiling face each time she hit the silver chime.
“Hold up,” a man’s voice called from the back. “I heard you the first twenty times. I have my hands full back here.”
Mia jumped back from the meat case. Her hand still reached out in front of her. She called toward the door, “Okay, I’ll wait here.”
That was dumb. Of course she would wait. Now that she’d had some time to think, Mia pulled out a slip of paper and started making a quick shopping list. Peaches, asparagus, more butter, fresh horseradish, potatoes; she continued to write as she waited. Finally, she looked up from her list satisfied. She only needed to add thirty quality steaks. Maybe she should serve a soup too. That would give her more time to grill and prep the main course.
Loud voices were muffled by the swinging doors. Was that an argument? She inched closer, trying to see through the window in the door. Two men stood by a large metal table. One, dressed in a suit, shook a finger at the other. Now she could hear the actual words. “I’m not making this offer again. I’ll wait and get the property for pennies when it goes to auction.”
“I’m not losing this store. Majors has been in the family since the settlers came to Magic Springs. It’s part of the community, the town’s history. We’re just going through a bad patch. Everyone is.” The man dropped a box on the table. “I have a customer waiting for me. Unless you’re here to shop, get the heck out of my store.”
“You’ll regret turning me down.” The suit walked toward the door and caught sight of Mia watching. “Of course you’d be here. Are you trying to ruin all my business?”
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Mia stood back, stunned at the man’s outburst.
“Why would you?” The man glared at her, then stomped around the counter and almost ran from the store.
CHAPTER 2
A voice behind her caused her to jump. “John seems to hate you worse than he does me at the moment. I guess I should thank you.”
Mia turned and spied a man watching her from behind the counter. His light brown hair curled around his face and a set of the greenest eyes peered out at her. A smile sat lightly on his lips. Just looking at him caused Mia to shiver, thinking thoughts not exactly PG. She bit her bottom lip and focused. She was here for meat. Not a man.
“Who was that?” Mia’s voice cracked on the question. “Why doesn’t he like me?”
A smile played on the man’s lips. “I think you got what he wanted. Anyway, not for me to gossip. What can I help you with?”
Mia shook off the negative energy lingering from John’s departure. “I’m Mia Malone and I . . .”
The man interrupted her. “You bought the old school. How do you like the apartment? My brothers and I did some renovation for the principal a few years ago. He turned one bedroom into a bath and a closet. Never knew a man to love his closet as much as Albert did.”
“I love it. The apartment’s great. But I have a favor to ask.” She took a breath.
Again she was stopped. “I hear you’re putting in some kind of cooking class business. You really think there’s enough of a market for that type of company up here?”
“It’s not just a cooking school. I’ll start out delivering made-to-order dinners for customers. For when you want a great meal, but don’t want to cook? I’m also catering. In fact, that’s what I need help with. . . .” Mia watched the man walk around the still-empty meat case, ignoring her.
“Sounds like a lot of work for such a little girl.” Now the man stood over her. His six-foot-something frame made her feel small, but his words ticked her off.
“Look. Can you help me or is there someone else who can? I didn’t come in to be insulted about my height or to be told how my business won’t survive. I need steaks.” Mia’s face burned. But she knew she couldn’t stomp out. The next-closest store was fifty miles away. She’d never get all the prep work done if she had to make the drive.
“Boy, you can tell you’re from the big city. Relax a second. Doesn’t hurt to make small talk with your best supplier.” He held out his hand. “I’m Trent Majors, owner of this fine establishment.”
Mia hesitated, then sighed and accepted the offered gesture. “Sorry. I’ve been thrown for a bit of a loop. I’ve got a dinner party for thirty tomorrow and my customer just decided she wants input on the menu. Now I need thirty steaks. Any suggestions?”
“You planning on grilling?”
“I’m going to have to.” Mia frowned, trying to remember the setup from her last visit to her temporary kitchen. “I’ll be cooking at the Lodge. Tell me the kitchen has a grill.”
“James has the best grill in three counties; you’ll be fine. Now, meat, that’s going to be a challenge. My supplier comes on Tuesdays.”
“I don’t suppose you happened to order thirty extra porterhouses this week?” Mia’s voice was hopeful.
“Nah. In fact, I tend to order short on the more expensive cuts this time of year because most of the houses are empty for the next few months.” He glanced at Mia, “Now don’t you worry, I’ll get you those steaks. Maybe even play grill master for you.”
“You’re a chef?”
“Amateur. James and I are friends. I sub in when he needs an extra hand.” Trent grinned. “When I’m not fishing.”
Mia groaned. Her first big gig and she would have to count
on a teenage Goth sous chef and an I’d-rather-be-fishing grill master. Why not? She was only doing the birthday party for the meanest, most demanding woman in the county. She’d mentioned Adele’s name to the florist when she ordered the flowers for the evening and the clerk visibly blanched. The woman didn’t have a real friend in town. Except Grans.
That alone was good enough for Mia. This party would be perfect if it killed her.
Two hours later she was back at the apartment and packing up the food they’d prepared for the party. Christina and Mia carried tub after tub of ingredients to the van for the five-minute trip to the Lodge. Then the two would finish the prep, put everything into the fridge, and hope Trent showed up with meat. Otherwise, she’d have to steal protein and improvise from the Lodge’s kitchen because she’d frozen the squab. Adele might just get sliders for her birthday.
James met them at the back door leading to the kitchen. “Trent just called. His supplier had enough porterhouse, but he had to drive into Boise. He’ll be back into town late tonight and drop off the steaks first thing tomorrow. Can you be here by eight?”
“Eight’s a little earlier than I’d planned, but yeah, I’ll be here.” Mia toted a plastic tub into the kitchen. Glancing around the kitchen, already buzzing with activity, she hesitated. “You sure about us doing prep here? We won’t be in your way?”
“The dining room’s pretty empty. Everyone’s planning on attending Adele’s party tomorrow, so a lot of our in-town regulars stayed home.” James put the tub he’d been carrying on a table near the back of the kitchen. “You can set up here. Your business sounds like a great addition to the community. I wish I’d thought of it. We do a lot of takeout, but people always want delivery, and I just don’t have the staff.”
“I hope you’re right. I really appreciate the use of your kitchen. I know it’s an imposition.” Mia started unpacking the produce, putting things into piles of ingredients by course. “I’m sure the Lodge would rather that you cater the party.”
“Believe me, I would have let anyone use my kitchen rather than work for that woman again. Last year she changed the menu three times before we finished. And even then she didn’t like what I served. She thinks servants should be able to read her mind.”
“Let me guess: when she set it up she said she didn’t care one way or another about the menu.” Mia smiled. She had known taking this job wouldn’t be easy. She just hadn’t known that everyone else had been smart enough to say no.
“Worse, she told me to do whatever I wanted. . . .”
Mia broke in, “Because you’re the professional.”
James laughed. “Sorry, I should have realized that’s why Trent’s on the scavenger hunt.”
“I felt bad imposing, but I was desperate.” Mia shoved the tub she’d just emptied under the table and opened a second one. The catering setup system was time-consuming, but she never forgot an ingredient or lost a utensil. She liked buying her gadgets at the specialty cooking stores even though she could find a cheaper version somewhere else. Expensive gadgets had a habit of walking off if she wasn’t careful with both her hiring and her inventory system. She thought about the grocer who’d offered to grill her steaks. Too cute and he knew it—she didn’t need cute in her life right now.
“Trent doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to. You must have made quite the impression.” James nodded to a line cook who was waving him over to the flattop. “Got to save the world from another undercooked salmon. We’ll compare notes later.”
Christina burst through the kitchen door and dramatically dropped a tub on the table. “That’s the last one. Now what?”
Mia watched James walk away. She hadn’t considered the fact that Trent might be doing this for any other reason than she, as a customer, had asked. Boy, she’d been out of the dating game way too long. Now what indeed? She turned and surveyed the half-unpacked boxes, a familiar ease coming to her mind. She grabbed two aprons and threw one at Christina.
“Now we cook.”
* * *
By nine all the prep they could do a day before was complete. Three different types of fruit pies cooled on a table in the back, and the chocolate cream pies were in the cooler, waiting for fresh whipped cream topping to be piled on tomorrow. Everything was stored away, and James’s kitchen, at least the part they’d been working in, was clean and back in order. The dinner rush had started more than an hour ago. Mia wanted to get out of their way.
“Time to head home.” She pulled her car keys out of her purse. Her fingers brushed over the envelope she’d found that morning and still hadn’t given Christina. She pushed the envelope deeper into her purse. Tomorrow was too important for drama. Or to lose her only help. Besides, Christina really was good at cooking. “What do you say we stop and pick up a pizza on the way?”
“As long as I don’t have to chop anything, I’d eat a frozen dinner.” Christina rubbed her hands together. “I have aching muscles in my fingers I didn’t even know existed.”
Mia laughed. “Cooking’s not for the weak. You did an excellent job today. You have real potential.”
Christina beamed but waved away the compliment. “Let’s get out of here.”
“After you.” She followed Christina to the van. “I hope you like kitchen-sink pizza or we’re going to buy two.”
“The more toppings the better.” She covered her mouth, but Mia still saw the yawn.
On the ride back home, Mia listed off her new prep list for tomorrow and Christina wrote. She’d key it into the computer and print out a couple of copies in the morning before they left. Getting to the Lodge that early, they should have time for a break in the middle of the day. Maybe she’d even treat Christina to lunch and a tour of the grand building.
Tomorrow would be absolutely perfect.
When they arrived home an upscale SUV was parked in what she’d come to think of as her spot. The plates on the black monster read SELL4U. John Louis, the other bidder on the school and the man who’d almost run her down in Majors Grocery, had come to call.
Mia handed Christina the keys to the front door. “Go head on upstairs. I’ll be there in a minute.”
She didn’t move from her seat but looked at the other car. “I can come back down after dropping this off. Maybe say you have a phone call?”
“I think I’ll be fine. But if I’m not up there in ten minutes, come get me.” Mia put her hand on the door handle. “I’d hate for my dinner to get cold.”
“Deal.” Christina bounced out of the car and headed to the front door. Mia saw her sneak a peek into the driver’s window, then speed up when the car door opened.
Mia climbed out of her van and stood at the front of his car. “Kind of late for a social call.” She nodded to the retreating Christina. “We were just about to have dinner.”
John paused, then walked toward her and leaned against the front fender. “Not really a social call. I just wanted to apologize for my rude behavior before. Trent can rile me up a tad.”
Mia felt the waves of insincerity flow off the man. And a touch of anger, mostly aimed at Trent, but not all of it. The man had the temperament of a walking time bomb, just waiting to be set off. She wondered if there was a Mrs. Louis, and if she accepted the brunt of her husband’s rage. “No need to apologize.” Mia took a step toward the door. “Thanks for coming by, though.”
He put up his hand, stopping her. “Hey, I’m not done.”
Mia raised her eyebrows at his brusque tone and he lowered his hand.
Her silence must have given him the idea she wanted to continue the conversation, so he pushed on. “I know you didn’t realize what a money pit this building was when you bought it. I can’t see a single woman on her own living in this dump. And even if you intended to open a catering business, there are plenty of cleaner, newer places in town I could lease you for less than this place would cost to get up to code.”
“I don’t want to lease . . .” Her words were cut off by John’s flowing hands.
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br /> “Don’t make a decision today.” He shoved a business card at her. “I’ll take the place off your hands for what you paid plus a reasonable profit for your time. Just call me when you’re ready to sell.”
He turned back toward the driver’s door.
Confused, Mia glanced at the business card. “What makes you think I’ll ever want to sell?”
He paused halfway into the front seat and turned back to glare at her. His stare burned into her. “Lady, you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself in to. There’s no way you can pull this off. I’m going to make sure of that.”
Mia stepped out from behind the car when he started it up and watched him angle the car down the driveway. The smile on the man’s face had chilled her more than the night air, and she rubbed her arms against the cold.
“Aren’t you coming in?”
Mia jumped at the sound of the voice, putting a hand on her heart to slow the rhythm. “Christina.”
“Sorry I scared you, but I didn’t like the thought of you out here with that guy. He gives me the creeps and I’ve never even talked to him.” She peered at Mia. “He didn’t hurt you, right? You’re okay?”
Mia put on a shaky smile she didn’t feel. “I’m fine. Starving, but fine.” She put her arm around Christina and led her up the path. “Let’s tear into that pizza.”
As Christina started chatting about the day and all the people she’d met in James’s kitchen, Mia tried to keep up, but her mind was on John’s pronouncement that he would make sure she wasn’t successful.
A rumor can swirl through a small town faster than a forest fire could burn an acre. She’d talk to Grans tomorrow to see if John’s campaign against her could hurt as much as he believed.
Tomorrow; she’d think about it tomorrow. She locked the front door and checked to see if the lock held before following the chatty Christina upstairs.
But she would think about John.
* * *
The sound of a phone ringing woke Mia out of a deep sleep. Grabbing the cell, she croaked, “Hello?”
