by Mia Carson
“Yes, she is a remarkable cook,” Douglas agreed, clearing the plates.
“Take a load off, sit down, and have a brandy with me. Is she still here?” he asked as he stood to fix them both a drink. “I would like to meet her and give her a compliment, or five.”
“She has yet to make it through one of your date nights.”
“I have a feeling it won’t be a problem for her. Is she still here or not?”
Douglas accepted his glass of brandy with a thanks and scratched Gimli on the head when the dog rested it in his lap. “No, she hasn’t remained at the house past a certain time since she started. Something you would know if you had been home at all.”
“I know. This new project with the lodge and the restaurant has swamped me.” He sat back down and patted his thigh. Strider came over and climbed halfway up into his lap. He let the dog lick his face and his cares from the crazy week disappeared.
“The dogs like her,” Douglas said.
“What?” Walker frowned at Strider and the dog barked. “They do?”
“Loved her the moment she stepped in the door. She’s even cooking their food now.”
“Fancy that. Now you boys can be as spoiled as I am. When is she here, the new cook?”
“Jaylyn, and she is here around five in the morning to fix your breakfast. She leaves for a few hours if you’re not here for lunch, then returns in the afternoon to make the dogs’ dinner, your dinner, and dessert if you should request it,” Douglas explained. “Then she leaves for the evening once it’s served and she knows you’re happy.”
“Where does she go?” he wondered aloud.
Douglas shrugged. “I haven’t asked. As long as she does what is required of her, I don’t pry into her life. It seems rude, but feel free to ask her yourself if you plan on meeting her one of these days.”
Walker set his glass down and Strider hopped off his lap. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, sir.”
“Douglas, I’m sorry I’ve been rude and not introduced myself properly to my new cook. I’ll do so first thing in the morning,” he promised.
“Good. Now then, how about we enjoy the key lime pie she made for dessert?”
As Douglas went to grab the pie from the kitchen, Walker refilled his glass and was thankful tomorrow was Saturday. The new hires for the lodge would start on Monday, but he still needed at least fifty more employees and had yet to track down a chef for the restaurant, or a decent bartender. Many of the people coming in for interviews were from Manchester or the surrounding states. It appeared the small towns nearby had boycotted Jaybird’s and refused to set foot there. Walker wanted a chance to speak to the old employees. He wanted to try and hire some of them back, but none of them returned his calls.
He used to wonder why his father had become so cold-hearted and numb. Now he realized it was so he could endure following through with causing people to lose their jobs and their business. It still made Walker sick to his stomach.
Saturday meant he didn’t have to see his father, but he did have another date with Georgette. She insisted on seeing him all weekend, and he hadn’t told her no yet. No excuse sounded believable, and he had a feeling he would be stuck with her finding a way to stay the night. The dogs couldn’t be penned up all weekend, so if she wanted to stay, she would have to endure the animals she turned her nose up at whenever she heard them bark.
“The pie has arrived,” Douglas announced, carrying two slices into the dining room. The dogs had their noses in the air, sniffing noisily as their tails went crazy. “And for you boys, cookies from your new favorite person.” He pulled out three large biscuits shaped like gold rings inscribed with writing and handed them out.
“Creative. What are the specialty shaped and iced cookies for, though?” Walker asked.
“She mentioned your dogs’ names, said you named them after a movie or something.”
“I did, and she took the time to make their cookies in the shape of rings. Who is this incredible woman you’ve found to cook in my kitchen?”
Douglas hid a smile behind his glass as he replied, “You will have to find out for yourself.”
They ate their pie and drank more brandy as the night wore on and the dogs curled up around the dining room, falling fast asleep. Walker hated to wake them, but he was yawning and Douglas was headed home for the night. The second he scooted back his chair, all three dogs perked up and he waved goodbye to Douglas as he followed the furry butts to the back door to let them out for the night. He stepped out onto the stone patio with them as they trotted off into the grass, chasing and wrestling each other despite having been sound asleep just moments before.
The stars shone brightly overhead, the new moon giving them a chance to be seen. Walker tilted his head far back and smiled as he picked out a few constellations he recognized. When he was little, his mother and he would stay outside long into the wee hours of the morning, watching the stars. She taught him many constellations and he’d never forgotten. Even when the cancer took hold and she was weak, she would make Leo wheel her outside so she and Walker could stare up at the inky night sky.
“Miss you, Mum,” he whispered.
He wondered what she would think of the women Leo made him date. She was serious about the family business, too, but when she got sick, her attitude changed. She tried to have fun, laughed more, and spent time with Walker. Leo never seemed to understand. He thought she’d given up, and Walker saw the bitterness in his father’s face even now when he spoke of his wife. Lucinda. His Lucy.
Leo rarely spoke of Lucinda anymore. Walker gave up years ago when he stopped trying to hold onto the fun-loving and carefree life his mother left him wanting.
He whistled when the wind picked up, carrying with it a chill that seeped into his bones. Tomorrow morning, he’d meet this new cook. If he liked her well enough, maybe he’d have her work at the restaurant instead of his house.
Jaylyn sipped her coffee from her bright orange thermos. The warm liquid glided down her throat, warming her belly as she flipped through her handwritten recipes, wondering what she would make tonight. The past week had been rough. She’d gotten in three arguments with her dad and one with her mom last night. She was pissed off when her alarm went off that morning and considered calling in, but the job was going well.
Her first week of pay would be delivered today, too, and she needed it badly. She beat Mariah to the mailbox yesterday and found a stack of overdue bills, including one from the bank about their house. She’d argued with her mom about why she hadn’t said anything before, and it ended with Jaylyn storming out of the house to clear her head before she said something she’d regret.
A furry head nudged her leg and she smiled sleepily down at Strider. “What’s up, big guy?” He pressed his big head harder against her hand, his tail creating a gust of chilly air. “Are you hungry? Where are your brothers, huh?”
The other plus side to this job was the dogs. They made her day that much better, seeing their happy faces and floppy ears. Lately, they were the only thing that made her smile during the day, and they’d given her a chance to work on a recipe for dog food. Wholesome and with everything they needed. It had been her mom’s idea a few years ago, but they never did much with it. There’d never been a reason to until now.
As she got out the chicken and vegetables she’d prepared the day before, she heard the clicking of more dog nails on the tile and was soon surrounded by all three dogs, waiting patiently for their breakfast.
She was laying out their bowls and searching for her coffee to finish it before making another cup when a hand landed on her shoulder. She screamed, jumping in the air, and her thermos sailed from her hand. It clattered to the floor, spilling coffee everywhere when the lid popped off. She whipped around to tell off whomever had the nerve to sneak up on a person like that to see a very handsome man smiling sheepishly back at her. His messy, sandy brown hair covered his forehead, and she had to l
ean back a bit to look him in the eyes—chocolate-brown eyes—watching her from behind black-rimmed glasses that framed his face perfectly.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and his smooth voice slid over her, warming her better than the coffee had.
Jaylyn coughed as her heart pounded in her chest. “Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn’t sneak up on people.”
“I thought I made enough noise.”
Jaylyn grabbed for the roll of paper towels when the dogs started licking up her spilt coffee. “Get out of that, you three mooches. You don’t need any more caffeine.” She knelt to sop up the mess and they licked her face instead. She giggled as they finally managed to tackle her fully to the floor, and she reached up to pet them all.
The man who scared the crap out of her stood by the counter, his brow wrinkled intently and his arms crossed. “What have you done to my dogs?”
She managed to push them away and sit up. “Nothing.”
“You did something. You’re the first person besides Douglas they’ve taken a liking to.”
“I’m a highly likable person,” she replied and finished cleaning up the coffee, picked up her thermos, and set it on the counter. “You’re Mr. Allard, right?” she asked, noting how different this man appeared from the man who had ruined her parents’ lives, and hers.
“Walker, if you please. Mr. Allard sounds like my father, and thankfully, I am not that man.” He held out his hand for her to shake, but Jaylyn’s talk to herself about how she would be polite when she finally met this man went out the window. After a tense moment of silence, his hand fell back to his side. “Do you not shake hands as is polite?”
Jaylyn heard Frankie’s voice in her mind telling her to bite her tongue. She dug the nail of her thumb into her palm and said stiffly, “I do, but I’m afraid it’s harder to be polite to your face than I expected.”
Way to go, Jaylyn. You couldn’t hide your brutal honesty just this once? Now he’s going to fire your ass. Way to go.
Walker’s jaw clenched. “And why is that? You don’t like working for me?”
“No, I enjoy working for you.”
“Then I don’t understand why you’re upset. This is the first time you’ve met me.”
“Yes, met you,” she agreed, “but not the first time you’ve—how can I say—disrupted my day?” He blinked, and it clicked then that Douglas must not have informed his employer who she was. “My name is Jaylyn Wilson. Ring any bells at all?”
His jaw clenched hard and his eyes widened before they narrowed. “I see. You’re the daughter of Darien Wilson.” He blinked a few times then took a step closer. “You were the chef there, weren’t you?”
“Yes, I was.”
His mouth worked but no sound came out. He seemed disgruntled, but if it was directed at her or Douglas for not telling him who was in his kitchen, she couldn’t decide, if Douglas even realized, but something told her the old man knew what he’d been doing when he hired her. “Why are you here?” finally came out of his mouth.
“Because you and your father left me without a job—me and the rest of my family.”
“And you chose to work for the man who put you out of business?” He shook his head as if he didn’t believe her. “Why did you really take this job? What do you want?”
She dug her nail deeper into her palm. Did she tell him her hopes? No, that look on his face was no longer open and warm. He looked exactly as his father had when he fired everyone at the restaurant. She would keep her reasons to herself until he realized he would never find a chef good enough to replace her at Jaybird’s.
“I needed a job and you were hiring. I didn’t have time to be picky.”
He turned his back to her, and she expected him to storm out of the kitchen, but he whirled back around. “Tonight is the first of many you’ll have to endure of picky guests under my roof. If you’re successful tonight and the rest of the week, perhaps this job will work out for the best.”
“I accept that challenge,” she said, grinning widely. His eyes narrowed and she grinned wider.
“And taking care of the dogs is not part of your job description. I won’t pay you for it.”
“I never asked you to. Consider it a bonus of having me in your kitchen.”
His hands fisted at his sides and he grunted in aggravation. He stormed out of the kitchen, mumbling under his breath, and Jaylyn sagged against the counter when she was alone. Her pulse pounded in her ears, drowning out every other sound. The dogs had followed him out the door and she was left alone, wondering why the hell he hadn’t kicked her out of his house.
She made another cup of coffee and nursed it as she moved to the small kitchen table, giving her a view of the backyard she’d been jealous of since she saw it. Strider raced across the lawn and was followed by Gimli and Legolas. A tennis ball launched over their heads and she saw Walker running after them, laughing as he did so. The sight was heartwarming and the smile on his face genuine.
“Where was that man five minutes ago?” she muttered in annoyance, flipping through her cookbook.
“Jaylyn.”
“Gah!” she yelped and cursed when she sloshed her coffee all over the table. “What is it with y’all today? I swear, it’s a ploy. You’re trying to give me a heart attack!”
Douglas handed her a towel to clean up the coffee. “Y’all?”
“Yes, you and Mr. Allard—or Walker, rather. He stopped in to say hello.”
“And I would say, from the angry set to your face, it didn’t go well.”
He started making himself a cup of coffee, leaving Jaylyn to glower after him. “No, it didn’t, and I blame you. You didn’t tell him who I am? Who does that? Oh, hey, I hired you a cook, but I’m not going to tell you she’s the daughter of the man whose business you just ruined?” she finished on an aggravated yell.
Douglas tilted his head back and forth, his lips moving. “I will admit, I was conflicted on whether to tell him exactly who you are.”
“And you decided you would rather him be surprised?”
“Trust me, he needed the shock.”
Douglas’ firm tone caught her off-guard. She’d worked there a week, but so far, this man had only shown her a light-hearted side of himself and seemed satisfied with how she did her work and functioned there as part of the household. Now he looked like a father ready to scold his son for misbehaving again.
“Why didn’t he tell me to leave?” Jaylyn asked once he joined her at the table.
“You have no idea how hard it is to find a good in-home cook,” he explained, giving her a horrified look. “You’ve only been here a week.”
“What was the shortest time?”
“Two days, and the longest was three weeks.”
“Who the hell are these people he invites over and why does he do it if they’re such a pain in the ass for a cook to deal with? Just make them pizza.”
“Ha! Pizza, yes. We tried that one night. Sent the poor dear home.”
Jaylyn paused with the mug halfway to her mouth. “Poor dear?”
Douglas reached for the morning paper Jaylyn brought in every morning when she arrived so early. He opened it and shook out the pages. “Yes, poor dear. There are three poor dears in total. They come on different nights and they each demand something different. Quite spoiled, the lot of them.”
“Is he…is he dating these women?” she asked, trying to get a handle on the situation she’d jumped into.
“He is expected to marry a woman of refined background,” he said, then tilted the paper away so he could add in a whisper, “That’s code for money.”
“Yeah, I figured that part out. So he dates three different women. Do they know he’s dating them?” Douglas nodded. “Damn, this is certainly an awkward situation. Why does he have to choose one of them?”
Douglas turned a page in the paper and sighed. “Because of Mr. Allard, his father. He runs the company and thereby runs Walker’s life. Has for many years.”
“Why doesn’t he ju
st leave? He obviously has money. And he’ll make plenty off the property he just bought,” she muttered bitterly, flipping through more recipes in her cookbook. “He’ll make some profit and then he can disappear and leave all his troubles behind.”
How nice it would to be to disappear. After the last month, Jaylyn was ready to vanish. Darien still refused treatment and Mariah couldn’t force him to do it. She was too worried about the bills, and the painful gnawing in Jaylyn’s stomach started again, thinking of how much money her parents were already in the hole for without adding new medical bills to the mix. But if Darien didn’t get treatment, he’d die. She gulped and her hands trembled.
“Jaylyn? Are you all right?” Douglas asked worriedly, setting his paper down.
“Yes, fine. Ah, just thinking, is all.” She coughed and focused on the pages in front of her. “Why doesn’t he leave? Does he like dating three difficult women?”
“No, but I’m afraid it’s not that simple. Whatever money Walker has is tied up in the company with his father. He technically has millions to his name, but he’ll never see a cent of it unless his father releases it. The new property is his first test, to see how he does on his own.” Douglas watched Walker and the dogs playing through the kitchen windows. “I’m afraid he’s already failing.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nope, you’ll have to ask him that yourself.” He folded his hands on the newspaper. “Now then, tonight, you’ll be cooking for Georgette Tindal.”
Jaylyn choked and sputtered on her coffee. Douglas pounded her helpfully on the back. “Tindal?”
“You’ve heard of her?”
“Her family owns half of Manchester. Yes, I’ve heard of her. I haven’t met Georgette, but her parents dine at Jaybird’s Roost, or they used to,” she mumbled. “What does she like to eat? Her parents aren’t picky.”
“I’m afraid she is. She has caused two cooks to quit at last count.”
Jaylyn straightened and waited for Douglas to go on. No picky, spoiled rich woman would make her quit her job. If Walker hadn’t liked her food all week, he would have asked her to leave by now, which meant on some level, she impressed him. The trick, now, was to impress his lovely dates.