* * *
“Another breadstick, Tora?” Jordan held up the cloth-lined basket.
“No, don’t want to spoil my appetite.” She glanced around the candlelit room, enjoying the view of linen tablecloths, silverware settings, and fine crystal wine glasses. Tastes of Tuscany was pretty special, and she was glad she’d worn a velvety knee-length skirt and a silky blouse with lacy collar. “This place is great, and not too far from Dorado. How did you even know about it?”
“A friend from college opened it awhile back. Tonight is the first opportunity I’ve had to make a visit.”
At the word college, the familiar pang of jealousy hit. Jordan certainly benefited from that enriching experience, one she so wanted for herself. Sounded like his friend had studied in the same business program. She forced a smile and lifted her wine glass. “To new ventures, may they be prosperous.”
At the same time he tilted his glass to clink against hers, Jordan rested a hand over hers. “I will definitely drink to that toast.”
She thrilled at his touch and allowed a few seconds of enjoyment before slipping away her hand. Why did a new man come into her life now?
“Me, too.” Jenna held up her goblet filled with milk and the adults included her in the toast with the gentle clinking of glasses.
“Excuse me, Tora.”
She swallowed and turned to the speaker. “Ah, Mrs. Porter, Mrs. Dorsett. How are you ladies?” She waved a hand at the other occupants of the table. “Do you know Jordan Dawson and his daughter, Jenna?”
Greetings were exchanged, and then Mrs. Porter placed a hand on Tora’s shoulder. “Just wanted to stop by and say thank you for all the years of your help with school fundraising. We couldn’t have outfitted the basketball team without your great baking.”
Heat flooded her cheeks. “You’re being too kind, ma’am. Everyone in town did their part.”
“Some always do more than others.” Mrs. Dorsett shook a finger at Jordan. “This one’s a real gem.”
Eyebrows raised, he leaned back in his chair with a wide smile. “Yes, ma’am, I know that.”
“Don’t let her get away, sonny.” With that, the older women walked toward the exit.
Before she could inform the ladies she and Jordan were just friends, she spotted the server arriving with their steaming plates of pasta and savory meat sauces. As she ate the rich chicken alfredo accented with tangy capers, she contemplated the day’s strange occurrences.
“Hey, Jordan.” A tall man stopped at their table. “I was surprised to see your name on the reservation list.”
Jordan stood and shook hands. “Greg, good to see you. May I introduce my two best girls, my daughter Jenna and Tora Hammond? Ladies, this is the owner of Tastes Of Tuscany, a college classmate, Greg Lambert.”
Best girls? Her heart rate kicked up a bit. Was this more than a thank-you dinner? Her thoughts whirling at the possibility, Tora smiled and nodded as the men caught up on the intervening years.
“Tora?”
At her name, she jerked and looked up into Jordan’s questioning gaze. “Yes?”
“I was telling Greg about Sugar & Spice and your wonderful desserts. Maybe you have a business card to give him?”
“Do you take specialty orders, Tora?” Greg stood with arms crossed over his chest. “I often have a need to serve large parties.”
“We’re a family-run bakery supplying basic pastries.” She dug into her purse that hung from the back of her chair and glanced at Jordan, who made a rolling hand gesture encouraging her to continue. Had he forgotten the bakery was for sale? Puzzled, she extended the card toward Greg. “Of course, I’m always eager to learn new recipes.”
“Good to hear.” With a smile, he pocketed the card and lifted a hand in farewell. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
She waited until Greg reached the next table before she leaned forward. “Jordan, why did you tell him about the bakery?” Irritation at his forceful attitude left her feeling unsettled.
“I believe in making business connections whenever I can. You should too.”
In my one-foot-out-the-door situation, why would a new contact matter? “But—”
“Oh Tora, what a surprise. Hey, looking good, friend.”
“Krissy, Tim?” She jumped up to give her best friend a hug and accepted a kiss on the cheek from Tim. “You two knew about this great restaurant and didn’t tell me.”
Krissy laughed. “We did tell you, months ago. Since you never go out, you probably forgot.” She turned to Jordan and grinned. “Hi, I’m Krissy Swenson and this is my husband, Tim.”
Tora flushed. “Sorry for my manners.” Then she quickly made the introductions. Before she could ask her friends to join them, she spotted Mr. Trenton from the corner of her eye.
“Well, hello.” The banker’s gaze moved around the growing circle of people. “Sorry to interrupt but the missus sent me over to express our thanks for your help with the last-minute dessert order. Mona wants to impress the new daughter-in-law.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Trenton.” She glanced around the restaurant and waved at a cozy booth in the back where Mona sat. Does everyone in Dorado but me know about this great Italian place?
“Bye now, everyone.”
Lips pinched into a hard line, she stared after Mr. Trenton’s retreating back and then turned back to the group. “Today has been so weird.”
Jordan rested his hands on the back of his chair. “Weird, how?”
“My inbox was filled with thank-you emails this morning.”
Eyebrows pinching together, he glanced at Krissy and his gaze returned to connect with hers. “Really?”
As she lowered herself to her chair, she nodded. “Now two sets of people have stopped by the table and thanked me personally for doing my job.” What they’d said echoed the messages she read this morning. Something was strange.
“I think they’re sweet to make well-deserved comments on your wonderful treats. Well, gotta run.” Krissy linked her arm with Tim’s and dragged him toward the exit. “Talk to you tomorrow, Tora.”
“Yeah, tomorrow.” Tora leaned back in her chair, struggling to pull today’s occurrences under a proper heading. Something was definitely going on. But what?
“Daddy, can I have dessert?”
Jenna’s voice shook Tora from her curious thoughts. “How patient you’ve been, sweetie, while all the adults have been talking.”
“I agree.” Jordan brushed a hand over her wispy hair, his gaze on her half-empty plate. “Bet you’d like some vanilla ice cream.”
Eyes shining, she nodded and then looked at Tora. “Think they have sprinkles like we put on the ginger house?”
With a wink, she reached for the little girl’s hand and squeezed. “Never hurts to ask.”
Jenna giggled. “I want Miss Tora to help decorate our tree. And maybe she can come to hear me sing.”
“Well, sweetheart.” Jordan smiled and tickled Jenna’s ribs. “Those are both great ideas.”
Tora stiffened. Decorating the Christmas tree was usually reserved for families. With Mama and Gram away, she hadn’t done much in the apartment than taping the holiday cards to the upstairs closet door and setting out a few pine and bayberry-scented candles. The only tradition she’d really kept going was opening the windows and doors of her Advent calendar. Instead of responding to that suggestion, she focused on the easy subject. “Are you singing in a performance at your new preschool?”
Jenna shrugged and turned a wide-eyed gaze on her father. “Am I?”
“Not at the school—”
“Oh, you’re talking about the community performance held downtown. I’d love to hear you sing.” And she meant every word she said. That performance held a special place in her heart. Tora leaned her forearms on the table. “I used to participate in that concert when I was your age. You know that lady that was just here, the pretty one with her husband? We stood together every year, sometimes we tried to sing louder than each othe
r.” At the silly memory, she giggled and covered her mouth. “But the conductor didn’t like that much.”
“Did you sing too, Daddy?”
A grin tilted his mouth and he shook his head. “No, baby. Daddy wasn’t a singer back then.” Jordan turned his gaze toward Tora, taking a few seconds to study her expression, and an eyebrow quirked. “But now I’m sorry I didn’t make the time to attend. Who knows, I might have caught sight of Tora’s performance as a young singer.”
“What about ice cream, Daddy?”
“I didn’t forget, sweetie.” He rubbed a hand along Jenna’s shoulder. “But Tora still hasn’t given us an answer.”
So he hadn’t forgotten about the tree decorating. Again, her thoughts went to Mama and Gram so far away, and her throat tightened. Wonder what they’ll be decorating—a cactus? “Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose.”
A server stopped at the table to clear away the empty plates.
Jordan placed their order for ice cream with chocolate sauce and sprinkles. When he turned back toward the table, he looked her way, his gaze dark and intense. “I…um…we could use the help…and the company. I can’t seem to get started with the decorations. Got a bare tree standing in the living room.” A broad shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I haven’t quite got the hang of carrying on the holiday tradition.” His gaze flicked to Jenna and back, and he tilted his head. “If you understand my meaning.”
“I do, but…” Understanding pinged through her heart. He acted so confident in the other parts of his life that she’d almost forgotten he was a recent widower. Possibly his late wife had handled the arrangements.
His hand reached for hers, palm upward on the tablecloth.
She lifted her head and stared into his dark eyes, then slid her fingers into his. His grasp tightened and she savored his warm touch. Without her family near, she missed out on these small human gestures each day. A hug from Gram for no apparent reason, or a hip bump from Mama when they shared a joke in the kitchen—simple touches she’d always taken for granted.
Tora sympathized with his procrastination, because without the enthusiasm and ideas from her family, she’d taken forever to get the bakery decorated. Finally, she’d turned over the design to Annabelle and was delighted to discover the girl had a knack for painting whimsical creatures. Her agreement would change their relationship, would make these two people at the table more than just friends. Tora hesitated for just a second longer but knew in her heart she wanted to learn more about this caring man. “I’d love to help. You might have heard I’m on my own this year. Mama and Gram are staying in Arizona.”
His fingers squeezed a bit tighter. “I did hear something like that.”
Three ice cream sundaes arrived at the table.
Jenna bobbed in her seat and clapped. “Yeah, there’s sprinkles.”
Tora and Jordan exchanged a secret smile. More than just sprinkles on vanilla ice cream were being celebrated this evening.
Gingerbread Wishes Page 8