“Shall we reconvene here tomorrow?” the Professor asked before we left.
“Sure.” I wanted to see the damage firsthand, but Carlos was right. I needed sleep. Hopefully by the light of a new day things would be clearer.
Chapter Twenty
As promised, we returned to Scoops early the next morning to assess the fire damage in the daylight. Carlos and I arrived before Mom and the Professor. The smell of burnt wood hung heavy in the air. Only one beam of the rotting pergola was still standing. Everything else was a piled mess of charred debris and muddy water.
“It’s bad,” I said, staring at the yellow caution tape that stretched from the side gate around to Addie’s studio.
Carlos kissed the top of my head and rubbed my shoulders. He smelled of fresh mint, Italian lemons, and cedar. I recognized the subtle scent of his cologne and leaned into his solid embrace.
“Should we wait for the Professor?” I asked, pulling away from him after a minute.
“No.” He stepped forward and lifted the tape for me to crawl under. “This is your space. I think it is fine for us. We will not touch anything, but you need to see what repairs will be needed. We will need to file an insurance claim, si?”
I was glad that Carlos didn’t have any reservations about crossing the police boundary. We surveyed the garden first. It looked like a war zone. Foamy residue coated the old sun umbrellas. It mixed into the grass like soapy snowflakes. A muddy path had been carved from the kitchen to the side gate where the firefighters had stomped back and forth in their boots to put out the fire. Fire retardant had dusted the bistro tables, but at least they were still intact. That was a relief and one less thing we were going to have to replace.
We squished through the mud to get a better look at the kitchen. Our hard work the past few days had literally gone up in flames. Stephanie’s chalkboard was a total loss, as was the new awning and sign. The long bar and cabinets were black and sooty.
In addition to the fire damage, the kitchen looked as if it had been hit by a mini tsunami. Water pooled in muddy puddles on the ground and dripped from above.
“This isn’t good,” I said to Carlos through clenched teeth.
“No, but it is not terrible either.” He kicked a piece of singed wood that had once belonged to the pergola.
I could tell he was trying to be positive for me. When the Professor and Thomas had said the damage wasn’t as extensive as it could have been last night, I guess I had gotten it in my head that maybe Scoops wasn’t a complete loss. Seeing how the fire had scorched the kitchen changed my definition of “extensive damage.” Yes, the building had been salvaged, but the majority of our kitchen was in bad shape. We were likely going to have to start from scratch.
Carlos tapped the blackened post above the pile of rubble. “This is not stable. It must go.”
I moved away, starting to make mental notes of everything that would need to be repaired.
“Julieta, you are too quiet.” Carlos grew still and watched me.
“It’s hard to see,” I admitted. “I guess I sort of thought it wasn’t going to be this bad. We’re going to have to start over, aren’t we?”
His blue eyes pierced mine. “Si. It is true.”
I let out a long sigh, wishing I had never agreed to try something new in the space. I had thought building out the ice cream shop would be relatively easy, inexpensive, and painless. The thought of spending hours on the phone with the insurance company, waiting for payments to come in, and negotiating a settlement made me want to call Addie and say forget it.
“Mi querida, it will be okay.” Carlos kissed the top of my head.
“But it’s so much work.” I hated the whiny tone in my voice. I should have been grateful that no one had been injured, and that the firefighters had been able to put the fire out before it leapt to Namaste.
“Si, but the work it is always worth it, no?” He tugged me away from the kitchen. “Look, up here you can create something that is entirely you. You will make this space your own. I know it is a setback, but it is also an opportunity. You don’t have to force yourself to fit in a box that belonged to someone else. We will make this space belong to you—it can now become a true evolution of Torte.”
His words touched me. The expansive sky above reminded me of the sea. He was right. What if we could truly create an open-air experience? What if we brought touches of the turquoise ocean waters here?
An idea began to form in my mind. Everyone had wanted to tear the pergola down. Fate had intervened for us. Instead of closing the kitchen in with the heavy vines, we could pull down the sky.
“I know that look, Julieta. You can see it, no?”
“Yes!” I threw my arms around him. “Yes. I can see it. Sun drenched and dreamy with wispy clouds as soft and delicate as our creamy concretes stretching above, the earthy grass at our feet.”
“And we could install a retractable awning for cover in the rain or shade if it is too hot, like the sails of a ship.”
The images that were starting to take shape were even more exciting than our initial designs. Carlos was right. I had been trying to piece together someone else’s space. Now I could create my own.
By the time Mom and the Professor arrived, Carlos and I had come up with an entirely new plan for the outdoor dining area. Mom was a bit taken aback by our burst of energy.
“How much coffee have you had this morning, Juliet?” She gave me her best Mom side-eye.
“Not enough. Listen, when we saw the damage it was like a punch to the gut, but Carlos reminded me that this space has never felt quite right. Maybe the fire is a blessing in disguise.”
Carlos explained our ideas. I took a minute to myself. I had forgotten how his unyielding positivity permeated everything he did. It was a rare gift. One I had relied on often in my early years in the ship’s pastry kitchen. Carlos always found a way to shift my perspective, to evolve my frustration over a soufflé that had fallen flat or a guest’s off-handed criticism into a learning experience.
“Do not let this get under your skin, Julieta,” Carlos had said one night when I returned to our cabin with puffy eyes because a guest had complained that the dessert was so sweet it made her seasick. “Dessert, like life, it is our own interpretation. This is not about you or your dessert. This is about the guest. She is looking for someone to blame for her misfortune. Do not take responsibility for her. She must do this for herself.”
Why had I forgotten this side of Carlos? His positivity came from a place of genuine joy. It wasn’t forced or fake. It didn’t involve an agenda. His intention when trying to build someone up was simply that. It was one of the reasons I’d fallen in love with him.
I watched him talk with Mom and the Professor. His casual stance and easy mannerism balanced his addictively charming smile and dazzling blue eyes. Other men as handsome as Carlos might come across as self-centered, but his spirit broke through his exterior. It was impossible not to feel a zest for life when Carlos was around.
But what if he wants to leave?
How could I ever be happy, if he’s not happy?
The thought sent an ache of pain burning through my chest. I should have asked him last night. I knew I was only dragging out the inevitable, but part of me wanted to live in the happy bliss of denial a little longer.
Did he sense it too?
He caught my eye and motioned for me to come over. I squared my shoulders and pushed the unsettling emotions stirring within me aside.
“Did the fire chief discover anything new last night?” I asked the Professor.
His hazel eyes were narrowed on the side of Namaste where the fire had started to spread. If the firefighters hadn’t arrived when they did, the building would have gone up in flames too. “Nothing as of yet, aside from the fact that this fire was absolutely intentional. The arsonist took advantage of your highly flammable paint and stain and they weren’t subtle about it. Which is of interest.”
“How so?” Carlos asked,
zipping his puffy black vest and tucking his hands in his pockets.
“I’ll say this, I don’t believe we’re dealing with a professional. More likely a crime of opportunity or something to that effect.” The Professor trailed off.
“Has Addie calmed down?” I asked.
“Excellent question.” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t see her again after our exchange, but that’s not to say that she didn’t give my colleagues an earful.”
“It is upsetting,” Mom replied, staring at the charred remains of the outdoor kitchen. “I can’t blame her for being out of sorts, but that doesn’t give her an excuse to be awful to the very people trying to help her. It’s so hard to watch.” She looked to the Professor.
“Comes with the territory, my dear. I have thick skin. Or at least a thick jacket.” He patted the sleeves of his tweed jacket. “Trust me, over the course of my career I’ve dealt with people in much more frenzied states than Addie.”
Mom didn’t look convinced, but she changed the subject. “The insurance adjuster should be here any minute. They’ll need to take pictures and document the scene, but once they’re done are we okay to start tackling cleanup and demolition or is there more to be done with the investigation?”
I had wondered the same thing. Given the yellow caution tape, I assumed that the police and fire crews still considered our space to be an active crime scene.
“Let me place a call to my colleague. Don’t quote me, but I believe you should have the green light to commence with cleaning once the insurance inspectors have had a chance to examine the scene. That is unless something changed after I left last night.” He walked to the side gate to make the call.
“I wonder how we start to clean up this mess.” I glanced at the residue on the countertops and charred cupboards.
Mom frowned then made a funny face. “Sledgehammers?”
I chuckled. “Yeah, you might be right on that.”
Carlos’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen. “I need to take this and then I have an appointment at Uva soon. I will check in later, okay?”
“Sure.” I forced a smile as he left me with a quick kiss on the forehead. More secrecy.
“How are things going with you two?” Mom asked after Carlos was out of sight.
“Good.” That was fair. Things were good between us.
“And?” She pressed.
“Mom, that’s not fair.”
“What?”
“That look. I can tell you don’t believe me.”
“Honey, those words never left these lips.” She put her index finger to her lips.
“I know. Things are going well. We’re good. We’re great.” I paused. “It’s different now though. I can’t exactly explain how. There’s nothing tangible. We have a lovely, easy relationship. Carlos seems to be enjoying spending his days at Uva. Honestly, I see him less than I thought I would. We have our separate focuses, which I think is good.”
“It is good,” Mom agreed. “I think it’s healthy and important in any partnership that you each have your own interests and activities.”
“Right. We do.”
“Then, what’s the problem?”
“I think he wants to leave.”
Mom’s lips parted. “Really? He seems so happy here.”
“Yeah. He hasn’t said anything, but just like that he keeps getting calls and sneaking away for mysterious meetings. I think he’s talking to the Amour of the Seas about a new contract.” Saying it aloud made me even more sure.
“The worst part is that I love having him here. I hadn’t realized how much time I’ve spent the past two years pining for him while he’s been at sea. It felt like he was Odysseus and I was trying to keep the home fires burning for his return. I spent large chunks of time daydreaming about what it would be like to have Carlos here in Ashland. I imagined long, leisurely days like the ones we’re experiencing now, where we swapped stories of our day over a bottle of wine and a plate of pasta at night. I imagined jogs through Lithia Park, strong shots of espresso, and cooking in the kitchen together.”
“That hasn’t happened?” Mom’s forehead scrunched.
“It has. That’s the problem. It’s been wonderful. Perfect. Too perfect. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. This is what I wanted. I wanted Ashland and Carlos. I have both now and yet it doesn’t feel right. If feels too easy, like it’s just an illusion. It’s not real. He’s going to leave.”
Mom nodded, but didn’t say anything.
I sighed. “Maybe I’ve changed more than I realized.”
“You have changed, honey.”
“I know, but what if Carlos hasn’t? What if this isn’t the right place for him?”
“That I can’t answer for you.”
She didn’t have to. Saying the sentence aloud made it true. Was that the problem? I had changed. I had left the ship. I had dramatically altered the course of my life. He had stayed behind. He had stayed the same. Not in a bad way. He was the same, solid, impish chef who had sent my heart aflutter a decade ago. But I wasn’t the same. Ashland had changed me. Or maybe Ashland had reminded me of who I really was. What if I had been trying to be someone I wasn’t on the ship? What if coming home had ignited cellular memories buried deep within? What if telling myself I left that life on the ship behind was actually true? What if Carlos didn’t love the new me?
Carlos didn’t need to change because he was happy, confident, and content with who he was and is. I wasn’t sure I could say the same for me. When I had packed my things and booked a one-way ticket to Ashland I had felt broken in places, and not just because of the secret he had kept from me. I was beginning to understand that now. His betrayal was a catalyst for an evolution that I never knew I desperately needed. Yet, that evolution might end up being the very thing that could tear us apart for good.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Juliet, are you okay?” Mom’s voice broke the moment.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” I meant it. I knew what needed to be done. I had to talk to Carlos. I was ready to face my future.
“The insurance adjuster just arrived.” She waved to a woman stepping out of a sedan.
We showed the agent around the space. It didn’t take long for her to snap photos, confirm our policy information, and complete the necessary paperwork for our claim. “We won’t be able to pay out on this until the fire chief completes his investigation,” she cautioned as she left. “It could take a few weeks. Maybe longer.”
Depending on how long that took, we might have to push back our grand opening. In the scheme of things it could be worse.
The Professor came over as the insurance agent drove away. “Sorry for the delay. I placed a call to the chief. Alas he’s in a morning meeting. I had hoped he might return my call, so I took the opportunity to check in with Addie while I waited. Unfortunately, I’m due at the station and have yet to hear. The minute I do, I’ll be in touch.” He turned to Mom. “Would you like a ride into town?”
“I think I’ll stretch my legs and walk up to Torte. Are you going to stick around here?” she asked me.
“For a little while.” I nodded. “If we get the okay, at least we can start demo today. If we can clear out the debris and I can have Andy and Sterling break down the arbor, we’ll have a blank slate once the insurance sends us a check.”
“Don’t worry, honey. Everything is working out as it should.” Tiny wrinkles formed in the creases of her eyes when she smiled.
Her words made my eyes water. I knew she wasn’t only talking about the fire.
“See you later.” I wanted to start ripping things down, but instead wandered to Laney’s food truck where she was prepping for lunch. “Good morning,” I called.
“Juliet, how are you?” She peered down from the open window. “I heard about the fire. Things are getting worse by the minute. Nothing like this has ever happened in the Railroad District and now it feels like things are falling apart.”
“The good news is that no one was hu
rt.” I didn’t want to burden Laney with my problems when her father had just died.
“I guess, but if Hunter hadn’t called the police last night, we all would have been screwed. Can you imagine if the flames had crossed the gate and made it to my truck? This baby has enough propane for a nice explosion. The whole block might have gone up.”
The thought made me shiver.
“You haven’t seen anyone riding a bike with a cape like your dad’s again, have you?”
She organized sauce bottles on the ledge so that every label was facing out. Each bottle had a pink flower label in the center—BARBECUE, HULU HULU, TERIYAKI, and SPICY LAVA. “No. Not this morning anyway. The police asked me the same thing. But I can’t see much from the stove. My back is turned the other way most of the morning while I’m prepping and cooking. Once I open, my view is pretty limited from this window. The person with the best view is Addie. She has a wall of windows that face the tracks.”
Laney was right. Addie had a bird’s-eye view of the railroad tracks and the bike path. Could she be lying? What if she had seen the Wizard’s killer? And what about Sky’s fall? She could have been watching the entire time.
“Did you hear about Hunter?”
“No, what happened?” She placed a tip jar covered in hibiscus flower stickers on the counter.
“There was another theft last night. That’s how he saw the flames. He got a notification from his alarm company that there had been a break-in and he came to check it out.”
“Really?” I hadn’t heard anything about a break-in. Why hadn’t the Professor or Thomas mentioned anything? But then again, last night was such a blur. They probably didn’t want to worry me more. “Was anything stolen?”
“More bikes, and I guess the thieves spray-painted graffiti inside. I talked to him briefly this morning and needless to say he’s furious.” She cleared space on the aluminum counter for straws, napkins, and plastic utensils.
I was beginning to wonder if someone had a vendetta against the Railroad District business owners. “I’ll go check in with him. I’m trying to fill time until we hear whether we can start tearing down the kitchen. Mainly, I wanted to see how you were doing.”
Chilled to the Cone Page 17