Cal leaned back in his chair. “That’s not enough to go on.”
“Sure it is.” Walker picked up his glass of wine. “I can go through high school yearbooks until I find where Ben went to school, then get the names of all the Ashleys.”
“Couldn’t you hire a private detective or something?” Penny asked. “That’s a huge amount of work.”
“I have time,” Walker told her. “I want her to have the letter.”
Cal knew his brother well enough to recognize his stubborn expression. “Don’t argue, Penny. His mind is made up.”
“Good luck,” Penny said.
“Thanks.” He cut off a piece of the battered fish. “Great meal. The best I’ve had in nearly a year.”
“Thank you. I thought you’d like it. So why did you turn down Naomi?”
Cal winced. “Very smooth transition. Subtle.”
Penny shrugged. “I’m curious. You’ve been away a long time. I’m guessing there wasn’t a lot of, um, well, you know.”
“Sex,” Walker said calmly. “You’re saying there wasn’t a lot of sex to be had on my tour.”
“Something like that. Naomi is attractive and from all accounts, very skilled.”
“You’re offering me your friend?”
“No. I’m curious. Is it because she’s older?”
Walker shrugged. “She’s what? Thirty-eight? Thirty-nine?”
“Forty.”
“Perfectly seasoned,” he said. “It’s not the age thing.”
“Then what?”
“Then none of your business.”
She held out her fork like a weapon. “I’m pregnant. You have to be nice to me.”
Cal decided his brother needed rescuing. “Mariners should have a good season this year.”
“I heard that,” Walker said.
Penny rolled her eyes, then said, “The infield looks promising. Now if only we can come up with the hits.”
Conversation shifted to baseball, then the success of the restaurant, then to possible neighborhoods for Walker’s apartment.
Cal watched his brother skillfully dodge any personal questions. Walker might love Penny, but he wasn’t going to share more than he wanted to.
Secrets, Cal thought. They were a family who kept secrets.
CHAPTER NINE
FRIDAY MORNING Penny found herself pulling into The Waterfront shortly before seven.
“This is just plain wrong,” she muttered as she climbed out of her car and hurried toward the rear of the building. There hadn’t even been time to shower. As she wasn’t allowed caffeine anymore, due to her pregnancy, a shower was the only thing that perked her up in the morning.
“I know, I know,” Naomi said from her place just outside the open back door. “It was your turn to sleep in. I’m sorry. I thought you’d want to see.”
Penny and Naomi traded off predawn times, alternating who had to get in to go over the delivery.
Penny stared at the water pouring out the back door. “Shouldn’t we be able to turn that off?”
“We’re working on it.” Naomi gave a half smile that didn’t look the least bit convincing. “First the pipe cracked, then the shutoff broke. That’s when I made the executive decision to rip out part of the wall to see if we could get to any other kind of shutoff.”
Penny had a bad feeling there wasn’t a happy ending to the story. “And?”
“Rats.”
Penny took a step back and shuddered. “This isn’t your attempt not to use bad language, is it?”
“Sorry. No. There’s not a lot. Obviously the exterminator has been doing his job, but still, there was a family of them.”
It was too early to deal with rodents. “Great.” Penny started for the kitchen.
Naomi clutched her arm. “There’s more.”
“Because a broken pipe, no ability to turn off the water pouring through my kitchen and out into the alley and rats in the walls isn’t enough?”
“We haven’t had the produce delivery. The truck was in a big pileup. Three cars and the truck. No one was injured but…” Her voice trailed off.
Penny shook her head. “Something tells me my lettuce didn’t survive.”
“That’s what they’re saying.”
“Great.” She had special orders due in today for her new chef’s special. “You know we have three parties of ten in tonight.”
Naomi nodded.
“And I would kill for cilantro, which we’re now not getting.”
“You mentioned that,” Naomi said. “I’m really sorry.”
Penny stepped close and hugged her. “None of this is your fault.” She reached for her cell phone. “Time to call in the troops.”
She punched in Cal’s number. “You’ll never guess what’s happened here,” she said and told him what was going on. “Naomi has already called the plumber, but we have to do something about the rats. They’re going to totally gross me out.”
“I’ll call the exterminator and then be in.”
“Yeah. You wouldn’t happen to have any cilantro, would you?”
“No. Want me to stop and get some?”
“No. I’ll call the produce company and see what they can do about delivering something to me. Although it won’t be their best. That’s in the pileup.”
“Gotta love the business,” he said.
“At least it’s not boring. See you in a bit.” She hung up and looked at Naomi. “Cal’s on his way. He’s calling about the rats.” She glanced at the door. “Do I have to go in there?”
“The rats are all scattered. You don’t have to worry about them.”
“Okay.” Penny tried to tell herself they were just really big, ugly mice and she liked mice. They were small and cute and reminded her of Cinderella. But rats? She shuddered.
She stepped inside and immediately found herself ankle-deep in the raging river that went right through her kitchen. “The plumber’s on his way, right?”
“Shouldn’t be too long.”
“Good.” Because there wasn’t going to be any prep work while this was going on. And even after the water was turned off, the floor would need some time to air out. And there were those three parties of ten, not to mention a full house, tonight.
At least her office was dry, she thought as she shrugged out of her coat and moved back into the main area of the kitchen.
“We have fish,” Naomi said helpfully. “That’s something.”
Penny put a call in to the produce company. They read off what they had available and she checked it against her order. “Send it,” she said, then hung up. She quickly scribbled out another list and handed it to Naomi. “I’ll need this stuff by one. But before you go, let’s brainstorm a new special for tonight.”
An hour later they had a special and a modified menu. Edouard strolled into the kitchen. Her sous-chef looked especially male and self-satisfied as he surveyed the flowing water.
“There is a broken pipe,” he announced.
Naomi grinned. “Gee, Eddie. Thanks. We weren’t sure what all this water was.”
Edouard smiled. “You are crabby. Should I ask why? Man trouble? I, of course, have no trouble with the men in my life. They adore me.”
“Of course they do,” Penny said. “We’re all delighted you had a good night. Now let’s talk about what’s going on.”
Naomi moved next to Edouard and rested her chin on the top of his head. “I never have trouble with my men, either, my little friend.”
Just then, a strange man stuck his head in the back door. “I’m the plumber,” he said with a grin. “Looks like you have a broken pipe.”
As he was well-muscled, young and good-looking, Penny wasn’t surprised when Naomi hurried toward him.
“I’ll deal with this,” she said.
“Of course you will,” Edouard told her. “He looks innocent. Be gentle.”
Penny glanced at the clock. It was barely eight in the morning. She didn’t want to think about how the rest of the day w
as going to go. Was there a chance she could sneak home in the late morning for a nap? Just a couple of hours of sleep. Not like she’d be doing anything else in bed. Yup, that was her. Sexless girl.
She tuned out Edouard and Naomi’s banter as she realized she couldn’t actually remember the last time she’d been with a man. As in naked. As in skin on skin, kissing, touching and the ever thrilling moment of climax.
“So unfair,” she said, still caught up in the revelation. “Everyone is having sex but me.”
Her two assistants stared at her. The plumber shifted uncomfortably. “Ah, maybe someone could show me that pipe,” he said.
Naomi patted her shoulder in sympathy, then led the guy out.
“You could be getting some,” Edouard said.
Penny accepted the comment in the generous spirit in which it was given. “I’m pregnant. Trust me. No one wants to see me naked.”
“Au contraire. Many men find the lushness of the flower at full bloom most appealing.”
“Who’s blooming?” Cal asked as he walked into the kitchen. He had a grocery bag in one hand and a huge pet carrier in the other.
“Penny. She’s upset because she’s not getting any,” Edouard said, staring at the carrier. “What do you have in there? A dog? There will be no dogs in my kitchen. Go. Shoo.”
He waved his hands toward the door, as if that would make Cal retreat.
No such luck, Penny thought, knowing her cheeks were on fire. Kitchens were rowdy, randy places where no one had secrets and every weakness was a target. She knew that and accepted it. But why did Edouard have to announce her lack of sex to Cal? And why was her ex-husband grinning at her?
“What?” she asked. “Did you have something you wanted to say to me?”
He held out the grocery bag. She took it and looked inside. Instantly her stomach growled.
“You brought me cilantro.”
He shrugged. “You said you needed it.” He set down the pet carrier and opened it. “This is for the other problem,” he said as a massive black-and-white cat jumped gracefully out.
“A cat!” Edouard sounded so horrified, Penny half expected him to jump on the counter. “No. No! They shed. The hair would be everywhere.”
“I agree,” Penny said. “No cats in my kitchen. It’s not sanitary. We won’t even discuss the health code violations.”
“Better a cat than rats,” Cal said. “He’s not an indoor cat. He’s a hunter. Guess what he likes to eat?”
That was something. She eyed the creature. “How much does he weigh?”
“Twenty-eight pounds. The lady at the shelter said he was clean, friendly and always on the prowl. He’s big enough that rats shouldn’t be a problem.”
The cat looked around, then strolled over to Penny. He rubbed against her leg and started to purr. She bent down and petted it. “Nice kitty.” She looked at Cal. “Does he have a name?”
“No idea.”
She felt the muscles in his back. “I hope he really does eat what he catches, otherwise he’s going to be damned expensive to feed.”
Edouard continued to eye the cat as if it would attack him. Suddenly the cat’s ears perked up and it took off toward the open wall. It slipped inside and there was silence.
“Seal up the wall quickly,” Edouard said. “While we still can.”
Penny shook her head. “The cat stays. The building is old. There have been so many remodels, I’m sure there are dozens of places the exterminator can’t get to. A cat is a good idea.”
At least she hoped it was.
A low rumble told her the second produce truck had arrived.
“It’s all going to be crap,” she muttered as she made her way outside. “The good stuff was in the crash.”
“Can’t you sort through it?” Cal asked, falling into step beside her.
“I’ll have to.”
“I’ll help.” When she looked at him, he added, “I know what decent lettuce looks like. I might not be a trained chef, but I’m not an idiot.”
“I’ll accept that.” She was grateful he was going to ignore what he’d heard earlier. Maybe he would even—
“Not getting any, huh?” he asked with a grin. “Bummer.”
PENNY STOOD and chopped cilantro. Her back ached, a fairly new event in her pregnancy, but one she was willing to live with. In an effort to ease the pressure, she scrounged a footstool and rested her left foot on it. The new position helped and she resumed her chopping and imagined forty-seven ways she could use cilantro in various dishes.
If she—
“Penny!”
She winced when she heard Cal call her name. It had been nearly a week since Edouard had announced she wasn’t “getting any” and she was still feeling a little self-conscious. Not that Cal had been anything but the perfect gentleman. She couldn’t complain about that. But still, it was embarrassing.
She looked up. “We’re fine in here. All the orders are out. Do not tell me we have an unexpected party of twelve showing up.”
“No. We’ve cleared the reservations. We’re done for the night.”
“Good.”
He walked toward her, all tall and good-looking in slacks and a sweater. Gloria might be a bitch on wheels, but her grandsons came from a mighty fine gene pool. Just looking at Cal, at the way his body moved and the slight smile on his lips, made her knees wobble. Not a good thing when she was holding such a sharp knife.
“You’re off tomorrow,” he said into her ear.
His warm breath tickled and aroused in equal measures. There hadn’t been any repeats of their hot kisses. She’d told herself she didn’t care. She’d told herself it was better this way. She’d been lying both times.
“Is that a question or a statement?” she asked.
“A question.”
She kept her gaze on her cilantro. It had been delivered fresh and smelled heavenly. “Yes.”
“Good.” He tucked a piece of paper into her jacket pocket. “My place. Tomorrow. Sixty-thirty. I’m cooking. Here are directions.”
“What if I have plans?” she asked, turning her head so she could meet his gaze. His dark eyes made her want to jump without looking. A divorce and being many years wiser than the last time she’d jumped made her less sure.
“Do you?”
She was tempted to say she did. Except she was curious about why Cal was inviting her over. Plus the man was offering to cook. Most people assumed chefs hated to eat anyone else’s food or that they were critical. Maybe others were, but Penny loved having someone else take responsibility for the food.
“No.”
“Then I’ll see you there.”
HOW HARD COULD fajitas be? Cal had picked the dish deliberately. He’d bought beans, rice, salsa and guacamole from his favorite Mexican restaurant. All he had to do was chop up a few onions, peppers and cilantro, along with the steak and chicken and throw on the spices.
He’d already set the table and he had a blender of virgin margaritas in the freezer, so why wasn’t the meal coming together? Here it was, less than fifteen minutes before Penny was due to arrive and he’d suddenly realized he had no way to heat the beans.
“I need more pots, dammit,” he yelled as he flung open cupboards. Except he never cooked and he wouldn’t know a good pot from a bad one.
He finally found a casserole dish and dumped the beans into that. He would use the microwave and be done with it.
Just then the doorbell rang. He walked to open it.
“Right on time,” he said, before he got a look at Penny. Then he stepped back and jammed his mouth shut before his jaw dropped and he just stared like an idiot.
Penny looked great. A black-and-purple sweater clung to her newly impressive breasts and her round tummy. Black jeans made already long legs seem to go on forever. Her hair was loose and hung nearly halfway down her back. The soft waves made him remember other times when her hair had been falling over his belly and thighs as she—
He slammed the door on that
train of thought and invited her inside.
“You look great,” he said.
“Thanks. I’m really starting to show, but I’m still too small for maternity clothes. It’s hard finding things to wear. Love the house. Queen Anne is such a cool neighborhood. I saw you have a view. I’m jealous.” She shrugged out of her coat and handed it to him. “I stopped by the restaurant on my way over. Everything is fine. The cat is really settling in. We have to name it. Maybe we can hold a contest. With staff, I mean. Not customers. They don’t need to know about the cat or the rats.”
He closed the door and waited for her to talk herself out. The babbling meant she was nervous. Knowing he wasn’t the only one made things a little easier.
“So, ah, why am I here?” she asked as he hung up her coat.
“Because I asked you and you said yes.”
“I know that. Why did you ask me?”
“You passed the date.”
Tears filled her eyes. She blinked them away. “Hormones,” she said thickly. “I didn’t know you were keeping track.”
“It wasn’t hard. You only told me about the baby a couple of weeks ago. So when Naomi said you got the all clear from your doctor,” he said, “I wanted to celebrate.”
The idea had popped into his brain and he hadn’t been able to shake it loose. He’d decided to give in to the impulse and see what happened.
“You didn’t have to do this, but I’m glad you did,” she said, heading down the hall. “Is the kitchen this way?”
“Yeah. Turn right.”
He rounded the corner and plowed into her. She’d stopped just inside the room.
“What?” he asked, feeling the criticism rolling off her. “It’s big. There’s plenty of light. It’s a good stove.”
She eyed the six-burner stainless steel appliance that had come with the house. “Better than good, but jeez, Cal. It’s red.”
He nodded. “They’d just painted before they put the house on the market. I’ll change it.”
She winced. “You should do it soon. A red kitchen isn’t a good idea. You’ll never get the color right on your vegetables and it’s not appetizing. But I can live with it.”
“I’m glad, because I’m not painting today.”
Susan Mallery Bundle: The Buchanans Page 37