by Drea Stein
“What are you doing?” she managed to whisper.
“Kissing you,” he breathed, his eyes looking deeper into hers. There was an intensity there, something more than simple lust. She didn’t know what it meant, what she should do with it. Last night had been different, like they had shared a deeper connection. Was it possible, she wondered, to be in love after just a few short weeks?
“But I’m making coffee.” She said the first thing that came to her mind.
“Coffee can wait. It’s lonely up there,” he said.
“I have a meeting at nine. I need to shower, get dressed . . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“There’s plenty of time. Especially if we do this.” With one swift movement, he swept her up and into his arms.
“Sean, what are you doing?!”
“You said you needed a shower,” he said, and with a laugh she let herself be carried off.
Chapter 35
Mandy pulled back. She hadn’t thought things had made it that far. But there it was, Sean Callahan nuzzling the neck of that Darby Reese as he walked her to her store. Mandy smoothed down her pencil skirt and fluffed her hair. What did Darby have that she didn’t? Chocolate chip cookies? Was that all Sean cared about?
She had discovered Sean Callahan when he’d been green, fresh. She had gotten him his first booking, his first TV spot, on one of the local stations. That in turn had gotten him his first big job. It was her constant work on creating the image of Chef Sexy that had made him who he was. He was her biggest client. People took her calls now because she represented him. They were a symbiotic team. He needed her, and she needed him.
Mandy had known Sean a long time now, and she had seen him date. She even assumed he had taken a few of those kitchen groupies to bed. But she had been patient, knowing that he would tire of them. He always did. He would order a bracelet, almost the same one each time, from a jeweler and gently disengage himself, always throwing himself back into work.
If they didn’t take the hint from Sean himself, Mandy usually found a way to make sure they got it, loud and clear. Most of them had moved on gracefully, and Sean was always a free agent again, always telling her that he’d be lost without her.
But not this time—not with Darby. Mandy could see that the girl had her claws in him but good. And Sean was telling her he was committed to this little backwater and dinky restaurant. Sure, he’d gotten a chance to be on national TV, but Mandy had had to beg for that. The calls were going to be few and far between if Sean didn’t get his head back in the game. He could have his own TV show, and here he was canoodling with Darby and probably making plans for the future.
No, Mandy thought. Darby Reese would have to be put in her place.
Chapter 36
Darby arose at dawn on the morning of her opening day to clear skies and the sounds of the birds singing. Next to her, Sean lay wrapped up in the sheets, his bare chest rising slowly and steadily with the movement of his breathing. He seemed at peace, his face smoothed out, and his blonde hair curly, tousled. She almost ran a hand through it but resisted. She didn’t want to wake him. He had gotten home late after overseeing a busy night at the Osprey. Word was getting out about the new chef and menu, and it meant that they were staying open later.
He had crept in, but she had been sleeping lightly, waiting for him, wanting him. They hadn’t talked much, just made love and then both fallen asleep, tangled up in each other.
Sean wasn’t a morning person, but that was all right with her. She liked these moments early in the day, when the world was calm and hers alone. It would all change after this. Today was her grand opening. She had told everyone that she was just redecorating, but her new sign, which had been hung and covered with a tarp, was waiting to be unveiled.
Quent had been sniffing around, but she had sworn everyone who knew to super-secret double-ninja secrecy, so while he was suspicious, he couldn’t be sure of what was going on. And now she had just a few days until her parents were back, a few days to operate as The Golden Pear, to show her dad just what The Dory could become. If he hated it, he could always go back to his old menu and put the old sign up.
It should be foolproof, she thought, even as she felt her stomach knot and clench and realized that she felt just a little bit nauseous. This was a big leap, and she had the right to feel the jitters as she crept down the hall and into the bathroom.
The thoughts milled through her head as she took a quick shower and dressed. She stopped once, looking at him. He was still asleep, deep asleep, and she decided not to wake him. Gently, she brushed her lips against his forehead and bounded down the steps. She pushed the on button on the coffee maker and let herself out.
She went down the street. If she’d been a whistler, she would have been whistling a tune. There was no one on the street, and she liked Queensbay this way. She could see the blue of the harbor, glinting in the rising sun, the seagulls wheeling around. A lone motorboat chugged out, someone getting a head start on a day of fishing, grilling, and relaxing. She sighed. After the summer, maybe on a weekday, she would take the boat out. Maybe she would go fishing with her dad—maybe, just maybe that would placate him. He never could resist a fishing trip with his little girl. She would pack a lunch, let him relax, have a beer, and she could handle the boat for him.
Yes, she thought, making her plans. She looked at the cafe. That was strange. There was a light on. She’d been sure she turned it off the night before. She walked toward the cafe, a feeling of dread coming over her. It couldn’t be. The door was unlocked, and she pushed it open.
“Dad.”
Her father turned, and she didn’t like the way he looked.
“Here, you need to sit down.” Hurriedly, she pulled a chair out for him, and he slid into it, like an old man. “Water, here let me get you some.” She pulled open the cooler and grabbed a bottle of water. She cracked the top and handed it to her father, but he didn’t take it.
His blue eyes looked at her accusingly. “Darby, what have you done?”
“Now Reg, take a deep breath.”
Darby stood back, never so glad to see her mother in her life.
“What happened here?” Reg seemed to have found his voice, and he stood up again, moving around.
Without waiting for an answer, he walked around the seating area, peering into corners, poking his head underneath tables, bending down to rap his knuckles on the floor. He shot a look at Darby, and she swallowed. She’d been a good kid, but any time she’d started to step out of line, that was the look he’d given her. Still, she was a grownup now, with a grownup plan and the cash to back it up.
He walked over to the counter, ran his hand down it, and picked up one of the laminated menus. He looked it over and then tossed it back down.
Darby tried not to look at the clock. It would be opening time soon, and she had a ton of things to prep before the early bird regulars started to come in.
Without a look or a word to her, he went behind the counter, through the swinging doors to the kitchen.
Darby looked at her mother, who was wringing her hands. That was not good. “You weren’t supposed to be here for another three days,” she hissed.
“I know, I know. Your dad just said he couldn’t sit around anymore. He got us booked on the red-eye home before we knew it. He wanted to surprise you, and I had no idea he would get up and come straight here. I’m sorry; I would have texted.”
Darby shook her head. “It had to happen sometime. I will talk to him. It’s all my fault.” She turned and headed toward the kitchen, but her mother stopped her and pulled her into a tight embrace. “It’s a big change. More than just a coat of paint, Darby.”
Darby swallowed, looking around. The deli looked completely different. Not like the old Dory at all.
She was about to stammer out an apology when her mother looked at her, a sparkle in her eye. “Oh dear, it’s so beautiful.”
Darby felt herself relax. “Thanks, Mom.”
Pushing thr
ough the doors, she faced her father. “Dad—”
“At least you didn’t change the kitchen,” he said, running his hands along the counter.
“I’m sorry, but it seemed like the only way.”
“Darby—” he said.
She rushed on, “Quent told me you were going to sell it, and you hadn’t even discussed it with me, didn’t even give me a chance to make an offer, to buy it from you. I thought I had to act fast, show you that I was serious about wanting this. I know you didn’t want me to go into the restaurant business, but I’m not happy doing what I’m doing. I want to cook. I love to cook, and I want to do it right here. I thought if I made some changes, you would see I was capable, that I could handle it.” She petered out as her father looked at her. “And I figured that a new coat of paint would help the resale value,” she finished lamely.
Reg had both his hands on the counter, his head hanging down, and suddenly Darby was ashamed. She had tricked him, taken what was his and changed it, erasing everything that had been his. “I’m sorry, Dad. I guess I went a bit too far.”
“The floor, the paint, the menu. The name,” he said, shaking his head. “I knew a new owner would do all this, but my own daughter?”
“I know, but I just wanted to show you that I could handle this on my own, that I had a plan.”
“But you have a job, a career, even an apartment.”
She took a deep breath, getting ready to explain.
There was the sound of a door opening. “Hello, is my egg sandwich ready?”
Sean appeared in the kitchen, and she stiffened, thinking, Not now, please not now. She wasn’t ready for her dad to meet Sean. But it was too late.
“Excuse me, mister. You’re coming in the wrong door.” Her dad turned, bristling at the intrusion.
“Sorry.” Sean didn’t seem flustered at all, and she tried not to remember how she had last seen him, with the sheets wrapped around his naked body. “I thought I was going to be able to catch Darby alone.”
“You know her?”
Reg had stood up to his full height, feet spread wide, arms folded across his chest. She swallowed. Her father had managed to scare off just about any potential boyfriend just by pulling his Big Reg act, and it looked like Reg, with that unerring sixth sense fathers had, had immediately sized up Sean.
Before a pissing match could begin, she stepped in. “Dad, this is my . . . .” Her tongue tried to make the words come, but Sean stuck out his hand.
“Sean Callahan. You must be Reg. Heard a lot about you from Chase and his brother. Great place you have here. Let me tell you, your daughter has a way with flour and sugar that you wouldn’t believe.”
Reg looked down at Sean’s hand and then ran his eyes up and down. “Aren’t you on TV or something?” he drawled.
“Only sometimes. I’m Chase Sanders’s partner in the Osprey Arms restaurant.” Sean didn’t back down, and for that, she was grateful.
Grudgingly, Reg shook Sean’s hand. “You were saying. About my daughter?”
Sean smiled. “Her chocolate cookies are amazing. And have you tried her breakfast sandwiches? The whole crew at the Osprey Arms swears by them as the perfect cure for a late night, if you know what I mean.”
#
She wasn’t quite sure how Sean did it, but he had her father out in front sitting down, talking about his trip like they’d known each other for years. She breathed a sigh of relief and closed her eyes.
“Darby!” Caitlyn burst into the kitchen, breathless, her eyes crazed. “I just drove by your parents’ house. I think they’re home early.” She stopped short when she heard the unmistakable roar of Reg’s laughter, followed by Aggie’s lighter, more fluid tones.
“What—”
“Sean. Don’t ask. I just have to get ready. I open in thirty minutes, and today’s the big day.”
Chapter 37
“It’s been quite day, hasn’t it?” Her father came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.
The Dory—no, The Golden Pear—had been busier than she would have thought possible. It may have been the samples of cookies she passed out along the street, but most people had been persuaded to come in to order something, whether it was one of the new special sandwiches or a cup of her chowder.
“We ran out of stuff,” Darby thought aloud, focusing on what hadn’t gone right, “and I think I should have priced the specials higher.”
“Darby, would you stop?”
“What?” She looked at her dad. She thought that maybe there was a tear in his eye.
“Darby, this place was busier than it’s been in years. I took a walk down the street, and they were all talking about us.” He took a deep breath. “This has been one of the most amazing days of my life. In a few short weeks, you have turned this place around. I was thinking of selling to Quent because I was tired of running it, tired of watching The Dory get old and tired and slip away, but the truth is that my heart isn’t in it anymore, hasn’t been for a while.”
She turned to look at her father, feeling the emotion welling to the surface. “So, you’re not mad anymore?”
“Mad is a relative term. I wish we could have talked about it before, but who knew if I would have listened. It was time for a change. That’s what happens when you get old. You get stuck in your ways. Sometimes you need to be yanked out of the rut.”
“So, you’ll sell me the cafe?”
Reg shook his head. “It’s not easy, running a restaurant, a business. I know you love cooking, but there’s a whole lot of other stuff that goes into it. I always thought you would have it easy sitting behind a desk in an office.”
“But . . . .” Darby trailed off. Maybe her father hadn’t understood at all.
“But you hate it. And you have a genius for food. Ever since you were a little girl. Who am I to deny the world the magic of your chocolate chip cookies?”
Darby felt the relief wash over her. “Thanks.”
“And,” her father said, “If I know you, you’re probably already thinking bigger. That and Caitlyn might have mentioned something. But before you go and open another location, well, make sure you see me first before you hit up the banks. The Dory, or whatever you’re going to call it, is still a family business, even if I get to spend a little more time sailing into the sunset.”
Darby was speechless, but she pulled her father into a tight hug.
“Aww, now don’t get all mushy on me,” her dad said, but she could hear the catch in his voice.
Chapter 38
“Mandy, really, I need to get back to work,” Sean told her. She had texted him, telling him that she needed to see him, and he had agreed, hoping that they could still be friendly.
“Come, let’s take a walk,” she said, slipping her arm through his.
He nodded, thinking that it would be better if they stayed in public. She was less likely to yell at him that way. She led the way along the walkway that ran along the water. It was the last weekend of summer, and the crowds were out. Queensbay, for a small town, was hopping.
He looked down at Mandy. Her blonde hair was down and loose, and her lips were dressed in cotton candy pink. They made almost the perfect bow. Her body was long and lean, and she had on a short, backless dress that made it clear she was letting very little get in the way between her skin and the sun.
She’d already collected a fair number of double takes along the way, and he was aware that, with the way she was hanging on him, people might think they were together. That was the last thing he wanted. He had tried to shake her off, but it seemed to make her cling to him even more, so he just stopped, knowing that she would fill him in on her agenda.
At least he was out of the kitchen. Perhaps he’d have a chance to run up and check on Darby. He’d barely had a chance to talk to her this morning, and he was dying to know what her parents had said. Things had seemed tense to him when he’d walked in and, when Reg had recognized him, he’d decided to shamelessly play the celebrity card, especi
ally if it would help Darby.
“Seriously, Mandy, I need to get back to work.”
Mandy looked over her shoulder. She seemed nervous, but then a look came over her eyes.
“Sean, this isn’t how I wanted to tell you, but you leave me no choice.” She cleared her throat. “You’re making a mistake. Throwing away everything we’ve worked for. Without me, you’d be stuck as a line chef in some diner in some hick town. I made you who you were, and now, you’re just going to sit back here. You don’t get second chances to make it big.”
Sean laughed. “Make it big? Is this what this is about, the TV show? Mandy, find me some guest segments that I can do here and there, and I’ll be happy. But I’m not dropping everything to run to LA for months to work on some cable show that might or might not make it, especially if it’s one where I have to yell all the time. That’s not who I want to be.”
“Be? You’ll be famous; that’s what you’ll be. Or on your way to it,” Mandy said, her voice rising.
“Or I’ll just be a joke of myself. I am fine, more than fine here. I own a business, the publishing company wants a cookbook, and the local TV station said they’d love to have me on sometime. And I can do all that from here. I don’t need fame to be successful.”
“It’s because of her.” Mandy almost spat out the name. “Darby. You think you love her, the pretty little baker? Well, she’s holding you back. Sure, you may be happy right now, but what about in six months, when the only people that recognize you are the librarian and the lady who runs the antique store? You won’t have your groupies, you won’t have the press, and you won’t have me.”
“Okay,” he said, holding his hands wide. “It’s okay because I’ll have the things that really matter. A place to call my own, a woman who loves me. A home. Something I never really had. And if that means I’m not as famous as I could be or don’t get to show up on late night TV, so be it. I’ll make my reputation back the old-fashioned way.”