by Liz Isaacson
“We start in ten minutes. If she’s not here at start-time, she can’t compete.”
Kurt nodded in short bursts and looked past the volunteer, willing May to come running across the parking lot. It felt like too much time had passed, and Kurt had started thinking about what he’d do with all his groceries if he couldn’t compete, when he heard his name.
May hurried toward him, laden with grocery bags. He sprang forward to help her, and she checked in with the volunteer while he deposited her steak and vegetables on the table. “Dishes?” he asked as she tied her hair up.
“I’m so sorry, Kurt. I—”
“We can talk about it later. You have dishes in your car, right?” He held out his hand for the keys. She put them in his palm, and he ran toward the lot, clicking her lock button to make the car honk so he could find it.
When he returned to kitchen six, she had her groceries out and the competition had already begun. His chest heaved and he felt scattered, his thoughts all over the place. He took a deep breath.
“All right,” he said. “You’re doing the steak marinade, and I’m on tarts.”
She looked like she wanted to apologize again, and Kurt worried that perhaps something serious had happened with her family. Her parents weren’t exactly young either. “Is your family okay?” he asked.
“Everyone’s fine.” She pressed her lips into a thin line and reached for a bulb of garlic.
So she’d been late because of something at Sotheby’s. And while Kurt said they’d talk about things later, he found he didn’t want to talk about the restaurant and how it had almost ruined their chances of competing in the Spring Jubilee cookoff. Didn’t want to talk about the restaurant at all.
Chapter Nineteen
May pushed aside the reason she’d been late—three people had quit at Sotheby’s that very morning. Two prep cooks and a waitress. And on the busiest weekend Grape Seed Falls would see this month, May had panicked. She’d spent a couple of hours consulting with Juan Carlos and then trying to get the shifts covered.
And she had. But it had made her late loading her car with the groceries and dinnerware she needed, and traffic coming into the community center had been insane. At one point, she’d considered loading up as much as she could carry and walking, because then she’d at least be moving toward her destination.
Her thoughts circled, causing her hands to make clumsy mistakes. She straightened and drew in a calming breath. The last of her worry edged away. She’d made it. They were cooking for the churches on Elberta Street and Freestone Avenue. She could do this now, and focus on the restaurant later.
Focus on what’s in front of you, she told herself, something her father had been telling her for months now as he trained her to manage everything. Plan for the future, but focus on what’s in front of you.
So she did.
The two hours passed in a blur, with the last five minutes just as rushed and anxiety-ridden as their practice session a few weeks ago. But when the bullhorn sounded, and they both threw their hands up in to the air, their dishes looked beautiful. A real Texas feast.
Judges swarmed, a pair of them coming to each kitchen at the same time. May stepped back, joining Kurt as Marcus Mann, who sat on the city council, said, “Tell us about your meal.”
May and Kurt looked at each other, and blinked. They’d worked in sync despite her tardiness and the charged atmosphere between them, but now it seemed he’d gone mute.
So May opened her mouth and said, “This is a journey through some of Texas’s finest dishes. We started with a classic tortilla soup, with homemade strips, pico de gallo, and roasted chicken. Then there are fajitas, with chips, guacamole, and salsa. And what Texas meal is complete without pecan pie? We did tartlets, and finished everything with a peach sweet tea.”
Marcus looked at her for an extra moment before turning his attention to the food. His partner, Leanna Hoopes, who ran the bank on the corner of Main and Suncrest—the largest institution in Grape Seed Falls—had already picked up a spoon.
They tasted everything, scratched out notes on their clipboards and moved to the next kitchen with thank yous. The process repeated five times, until ten judges had tasted their food. When judging ended, May leaned into the table, relief cascading through her like an avalanche. She plucked one last remaining strip of beef from the platter and put it in her mouth. The flavor of cumin and red pepper exploded in her mouth, and though the meat was a half an hour cold, it still tasted delicious.
“Well, we did our best.” She turned back to Kurt, who watched her with an unreadable expression. “I’m sorry I almost missed it.”
“You didn’t.” He started cleaning up the kitchen, the conversation clearly closed. She’d been planning to take the entire day off to spend with him at the Jubilee. He’d gotten the time off work too, but now she wondered if he’d just pack up his stuff and head back to his cabin.
Her stomach growled, and she turned back to him. “Where do you want to go to lunch?”
“Up to you.”
She hated how he wouldn’t look at her, so she moved to stand in front of him. “No, it’s not up to me. Let’s decide together.”
He finally looked at her with those electric blue eyes, and she fell back a step from the powerful shock she got.
“What happened at the restaurant?” he asked, like he already knew why she’d been late.
Defeat slumped May’s shoulders. “Three people quit. I handled it, but it made me a little behind.”
“You almost missed this,” he said. “This—this thing we’ve been practicing for four months, May. For our churches.”
“I know, but like you said, I didn’t.”
He scoffed and looked away.
“And,” she said. “We’re going to win.”
He sighed, and when he focused on her again, his eyes and jaw had softened. “You think so?”
“I know so. Our food was flawless.” She reached for him, relieved and grateful when he let her slip her fingers along his. “I’m sorry I was late, Kurt.”
He tugged her closer, his forgiveness coming easily and quickly. Tucking her against his chest, he said, “I know you are. And I sure hope you’re right about us winning.”
As if summoned by his statement, a microphone crackled to life, and the mayor said into it, “Ladies and gentlemen, I have the winner of the Spring Jubilee Congregational Cookoff in my hand!”
The crowd cheered, and Kurt kneaded May against his side, the tension in his grip prevalent. Mayor Lemone opened the envelope, removed a single sheet of paper, and scanned it. “With comments like, ‘some of the best food I’ve ever tasted,’ and ‘a true Texas masterpiece,’ the winner of this year’s Two Peas in a Pod contest is….”
May’s heart beat so fast, she pressed one hand against her chest to make sure it didn’t explode right out of her ribcage.
Kurt sucked in a tight breath.
“…Kurt Pemberton and May Sotheby!”
May squealed, her adrenaline spiking again as her name settled in her ears. They’d just won. She turned toward Kurt, who grinned like he’d won the lottery not a cooking contest in small-town Texas.
He swept her off her feet, and together they laughed and laughed. And though the moment only last for a few breaths, May felt more happiness under that tent, in the parking lot of the community center, inside the circle of Kurt’s arms, than she’d ever felt.
With the onset of tourist season, Sotheby’s saw increased crowds each day. They filled the restaurant to capacity each evening for dinner, and May ran herself ragged trying to keep up. She couldn’t reserve the family’s corner booth for Kurt to sit in while she worked, and he’d taken to hanging out in the office and stealing a few rushed words of conversation and a kiss before heading over to her place.
He kept Char company and had hot coffee waiting for her when she finally got home. He never complained about the lack of time they had together, and they talked about setting a wedding date for December.
“I love Hill Country at the holidays,” he’d said, and May had agreed. Nothing had been announced. No venues had been booked. She still wore the diamond around her neck, but they hadn’t gone to a jeweler to purchase a real engagement ring.
As the months passed, they talked about him moving in with her once they were married, and after several conversations over the course of two weeks, he finally agreed. “It’ll be hard for me to give up my place on the ranch,” he said. When she’d asked him why, he’d fallen silent, held her tight, and then left without kissing her goodbye.
May sensed a new distance between them, but she didn’t know what to do about it. Kurt still came into the restaurant on most days, and as the date of her father’s retirement announcement neared, May’s focus on the restaurant increased.
The day before the big event, where family, close friends, and the entire staff at Sotheby’s would be in attendance, her mother found her working in the office before the restaurant opened.
“Hey, honey.”
“Mom, hey.” May stood and gave her mother a peck on both cheeks. She scanned the kitchen beyond her. “Where’s Daddy?”
“Just me this morning.” Her mom settled in the chair where Kurt usually sat and put her purse on the floor.
“Oh. Well, what’s up?” May sat behind the desk again, the food order she’d been working on waiting for her. After that, she had payroll to complete, and then she needed to run down the street to the party supply store for tomorrow’s shindig.
“How are things with Kurt?”
“Great.” May almost choked on the word. “Really great.” Though she knew they really weren’t, she couldn’t stand the thought of not being with him. “We’ve been talking about a wedding over the Christmas holidays.”
Her mother smiled, but it was one of her controlled ones without much emotion behind it. “Well, we should get started on the planning, then. That’s only six months from now.”
May sighed and picked up the pencil she’d been using to mark boxes on the order. “Yeah, I know.”
“That’s not much time to find a dress and get it altered, or book a venue,” her mom continued. “The best places are scheduled months out, and with it being the holidays, they might already be booked.”
“I know,” May said again. And yet she’d done nothing to advance the wedding plans. She hadn’t told anyone about a date—not Beth, not Ally, not her mother.
“So what’s the hold up?” her mom asked.
“I don’t have a real engagement ring,” May said, automatically reaching to finger the diamond she did wear. “This was supposed to be a placeholder.”
The silence that followed didn’t comfort May. She wasn’t sure why she and Kurt hadn’t made time to go buy a proper ring. And as soon as she thought as much, she did know why.
She didn’t have time.
He had asked her about it at least twice, and she hadn’t had time.
“With everything going on, and the summer season, we haven’t had time to get to a jeweler,” May said, her voice feeble even to her own ears.
Her mother heard it, and cocked her head as she searched May’s face. “Do you want to marry this man, May?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She hung her head. “There’s just so much work to do here,” she added, her defenses flying into place. “I don’t know how Daddy does everything.” May felt like she was drowning beneath schedules, paperwork, and baking.
“He doesn’t,” her mother said simply. “We ran Sotheby’s together, May.” She stood and shouldered her purse, the meeting clearly almost over. May hadn’t even realized her mother’s visit had turned into a meeting. “Together, May. It’s another reason your father and I wanted you to marry before you took over the restaurant. It’s an impossible job for just one person.”
May stood and looked at her mother, panic combining with desperation in her chest. “But, Mom, Kurt’s a cowboy. Not a restaurant manager.” They’d been planning for him to keep working out at Grape Seed Ranch. Him coming to Sotheby’s and helping out had never even been on the table. May hadn’t known it needed to be.
“People change,” her mother said simply. She patted May’s arm with sympathy in her expression. “I’ll stop by the party supply store for you.” She moved away, her heels clicking on the red-orange tile in the kitchen until she disappeared out the back door of the restaurant.
May sat down heavily behind the desk, her mind churning. People change. People change. People change.
Chapter Twenty
Kurt pulled into the restaurant parking lot at nine o’clock in the morning, having switched his shift with Shane again. At least the other man hadn’t snapped at him. Austin had healed well, and Dwayne had paid for everything, but Shane still carried a certain edge of anger everywhere with him.
Kurt was tired. Tired of getting up early to get chores done so he could rush into town and…sit around by himself. Tired of spending his evenings with an apricot miniature poodle. Tired of the uncomfortable chair in May’s office. Tired of reading on his phone, or surfing his social media alone.
He was in love with May Sotheby, and she simply didn’t have time for him. She’d promised things would slow down again in the winter, but Kurt had met her in January, and she’d been plenty busy then.
And next year, she’d be the chef/owner of Sotheby’s, not just the pastry chef of her father’s restaurant.
As much as he didn’t want to admit it, that morning when he’d looked at himself in the mirror to make sure he was presentable for her father’s retirement celebration, he’d looked lonely.
He felt absolutely alone. He’d given up evenings and weekends on the ranch, and therefore didn’t socialize with hardly any of the men out there anymore. He’d been going to church with May if she was available, so he didn’t have his congregational support. He barely talked to Dwayne anymore.
I’m unhappy, he thought as the feeling pulled through him again. He had the woman of his dreams, and they were going to get married in December, and he was unhappy.
His phone buzzed. May, asking him how close he was to arriving. And because he didn’t want to let her down or cause her the same worry she’d caused him by being late to the cookoff, he stuffed his unhappiness into a box and shelved it in the back of his mind.
Then he got out of his truck and went inside the restaurant to help May hang banners and light candles for her father’s retirement party.
She hugged him hello, but stepped back quickly with directions already streaming from her mouth. He liked watching her work, had always enjoyed the way she carried confidence in her step and her voice. She was sophisticated, powerful, and beautiful, and he loved everything about that.
So he hung the banners where she said, and mixed up the peach sweet tea they’d won the cookoff with, and positioned himself off to the side with Ally and a few other members of the wait staff at Sotheby’s as the front doors opened and May’s father walked in.
Cheers went up, and applause started, and May beamed so much joy from her face, Kurt wondered if she could be happy for the both of them. If she could carry him in his times of unhappiness until he could find his way back to the light.
Her father made a speech about the restaurant, and how he’d started working in it sixty years ago, as an eleven-year-old boy who took out the trash and ran errands for his father. He continued, but Kurt couldn’t get the fact that the man had dedicated six decades of his life to this restaurant.
May’s father continued, telling the story of how he’d met her mother in that corner booth, and how they’d conducted their family and business meetings right at the table where Kurt stood. Tears were shed, and Kurt caught May wiping her eyes several times.
Her father finished and lifted a set of keys high into the air. “And today, I’m retiring. I’ll still come into Sotheby’s for the chicken fried steak, but my daughter is going to take this restaurant into the next generation of food lovers.” He handed her the keys to thunderous applause an
d they embraced.
Kurt clapped along with everyone else, and a smile even stole across his face. May hugged her father tight, and then her mother too. They both cried, and Kurt’s chest pinched at the emotion on May’s face. She loved this restaurant, and she’d worked really hard to get where she was. A measure of joy pulled through him too at watching her achieve her dream.
She continued down the line, hugging both of her sisters, and then Juan Carlos and Ally. Kurt swallowed, his hands raw from clapping and his throat dry as he waited for his embrace.
But May only gave him a sexy, knowing look and turned back to her father. Kurt knew that look. He’d seen her flash it toward him as he sat in the booth this spring, and then in her office this summer. It said, We’ll celebrate in private.
But he still felt like she’d stung him with a powerful shock. His hands fell to his sides as he realized she hadn’t claimed him as hers in this private setting. Glancing around, he saw the staff from Sotheby’s. Her family. Their closest friends. Why couldn’t she hug him too? Maybe whisper in his ear about how much she loved him.
His loneliness descended, crushing him with its tremendous weight. He felt like he existed behind a layer of wax paper, and everyone who was now laughing and smiling and moving toward the buffet tables were out of his reach.
He swallowed against his dry throat and headed for the exit, half-hoping someone would notice and call him back. No, hoping May would notice and call after him. Follow him. Thread her fingers through his and lead him carefully back to her inner circle.
She didn’t. No one did.
So Kurt did what he’d been doing for months now. He drove to May’s house, let himself in through the garage, and curled up with her dog to wait for her to come home.
“There you are.”
Kurt glanced up from his phone to find May standing above him. He had no idea what time it was, how much time had passed, or why he hadn’t heard her arrive. Or where Char was. The last one made him bolt to a sitting position and scan the room for the little dog.