by Whitley Cox
“You selling any of them?” Mason asked, admiring another one of Paige. This one was of her using the pasta roller on her mixer to roll out her sfogliatelle dough. Flour dusted her cheeks. Her eyes were bright and her lips set in a thin line as she concentrated on the task.
Mitch shook his head. “Not any of the ones with models. I’ll part with prints of my landscapes or wildlife, but most of these are just to showcase what I can do.”
Mason nodded, wandering up to the photo Mitch had taken of a blue heron standing in a marsh at sunset. The sky colors behind the bird were a watercolor of pinks and purples, yellows and oranges. The bird held a small fish between its beak, but instead of swallowing it, it simply stood there, staring up at the sky.
“I’ll buy a print of that,” Mason said. “Lemme know how much. I’ll take it in this size, too. It’ll look great in my dining room.”
A line forming at the door caught Mitch’s eye.
The public was here.
It was showtime.
He rested his hand on Mason’s shoulder. “I’ll give you the friend discount. A painting for booze. How does that sound? I come to your bar, you hook me up with a pint.”
Mason was all smiles. “You got it.”
Mitch found Paige at his side, and he wrapped his arm around her waist. “Everyone, could we have your attention, please?”
Murmurs and conversations came to a halt, and all eyes fell to Mitch and Paige.
They both took deep breaths.
“We’d just like to thank all of you for coming tonight. This studio has been a big dream of mine for a while, and thanks to all of your love and support, it’s finally become a reality. I’m looking forward to taking family, wedding and holiday photos for all of you, and now that I have the proper studio space, I won’t be editing those photos in the dark and noisy corner of my kitchen.”
Chuckles drifted through the small crowd.
“We have a line forming outside, so we will keep this short. Paige’s dream began long before mine. She knew she wanted to cook, to bake, to feed people incredible food since before a lot of us had even had our first kiss. She has worked harder than any person I’ve ever met, overcome more obstacles than any person ever should, and she has so much to show for it. I know that you’re all as proud of her as I am and all that she’s accomplished. The Lilac and Lavender Bistro is going to become a Seattle hotspot by year’s end, so let’s all hope she just takes note of everyone in this room and puts us to the front of the reservation book when we call.”
The woman in his arms laughed quietly, but he also heard her hiccup a sob. He didn’t look down at her, but he squeezed her tighter against him.
“So please, without any further ado, welcome to Mitchel Benson Photography, and please enjoy the incredible food we have here tonight, courtesy of The Lilac and Lavender Bistro.” He nodded at Liam and Scott, whom he had designated as official door openers. “We are open for business!”
20
Paige’s face hurt from smiling and laughing so much.
They were two hours into the studio opening, and the place was packed to the rafters with friends, family, admirers and photography enthusiasts.
Her food was a huge hit—thankfully—and she’d noticed several people not only entering to win the free photo shoot Mitch was offering but also buying prints and booking photo shoots.
Finally, with a moment to herself, she stole to an empty corner, grabbed a bottle of water and chugged. It was a sweltering August evening, and although the air-conditioning was on full blast, the number of bodies packed into the confined space made for a sauna-like feeling to Paige, who was wearing her black chef’s coat.
“Hey, chef.” The man Mitch had introduced as Liam sidled up next to her, his plate loaded with her food. Zak and Liam’s brother Scott joined him.
“Hey, guys. How’s the food?” She scoped out their plates. “Be honest.”
They all had mouthfuls, but Zak was the first to speak. “You know I’ll always lick the plate of anything you make, Paige. You’re the best cook ever.” He pretended to whisper. “Don’t tell my grandma that.”
Paige smiled. “You know you can go back for seconds, right? You don’t have to pile everything on to your plate at once.”
He shook his head and picked up a chickpea flour breaded Moroccan spiced chicken tender and dipped it into the mint yogurt it was meant to be paired with. “I took two of everything. I don’t want to miss out.” He took a bite of the chicken tender. “These are fucking awesome.”
Liam and Scott both nodded.
Zak double-dipped his chicken into the mint yogurt again. “Besides, I’m carb loading. I’m running a half marathon tomorrow, need to fuel up.”
Paige rolled her eyes. “Sure. Fuel up. Sorry I don’t have any fettuccini alfredo for you. I know that’s your favorite.”
He shrugged, then dove into the pea shoot and Thai peanut mini wrap. “I think I can manage.”
“I’m doing a full marathon tomorrow,” Scott piped up. “Have to drive twenty-six miles to go pick my kid up from his grandparents tomorrow. Gonna need some fuel for the drive.”
Liam snorted. “I just fucking love food. If I gain five pounds from this tonight, I won’t give two shits.” He swirled his pinky finger into a dollop of apricot chutney on his plate and stuck it in his mouth. “I could fucking drink this shit.”
Paige took a sip of her water. “I’ll send you home with a jar of it. Just remind me before you leave.”
His dark brown eyes went wide. “Oh, I like you.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and squeezed her into his frame. “Photogenic and a killer cook. If I didn’t believe in love, I’d say I loved you.”
Zak and Scott groaned and rolled their eyes.
“Not today,” Zak said blandly. “We don’t need your cynical diatribe tonight, please. Save it for poker night. Hell, save it for when you’re alone in your car, because I’m pretty sure you’re the only person who wants to hear it.”
Liam released Paige and straightened up, picking up a canape off his plate and popping it into his mouth, shoving it into his cheek before he spoke. “I’m just saying—”
“Yeah, but don’t,” Zak cut him off. “Just don’t.”
Liam’s face scrunched up before he shrugged and continued eating. “I’m just saying … ”
“Always the last word,” Zak grumbled. He directed his attention back to Paige. “How’s it all going?”
She nodded. “It’s going all right so far. My staff is very competent. They’ve been replenishing the trays and clearing dirty plates left behind. They’re a well-oiled machine. I’m very lucky.”
“But how are you?” Zak probed. “I mean, your face is plastered all over these walls. Every picture is incredible, but it has to be a bit overwhelming to watch people fawn all over your images.”
She’d been trying not to think about that. Whenever she was forced to walk past a photo of herself—which was a lot—she put her head down or looked in the opposite direction. As much as she had okayed Mitch hanging the images of her, she wasn’t keen on staring at them.
“It’s a little weird,” she admitted. “But Mitch says they’re some of his best work, and I want him to put his best work out for the public to see, so … ” She toed at a speck on the tile floor. “I guess I have to suck it up and be modest in other ways.”
“Or you embrace it and hold your head high,” Scott offered, wrinkling his slightly crooked nose. “Those photos are beautiful, you’re beautiful, and your food is incredible. No need to be modest about any of it. Be proud.”
A warm hand encircled her waist, and lips touched her temple. “I couldn’t agree more.”
She glanced up and smiled at Mitch.
“The boys keeping you company or driving you nuts?” he asked, offering her a glass of wine. She shook her head. She was still on the clock and wanted to keep a clear mind. She’d celebrate once the doors were locked and it was just her and Mitch left to clean up and de
compress for the night.
“They’re keeping me company,” she assured him. “Making me laugh.”
“I hope not at my expense,” he joked.
“You came over too soon,” Liam added. “We were just about to tell her how terrible you are at poker.”
Mitch pretended to look offended. “It’s because I have an honest face. Can’t lie to save my life.”
She wrapped her arm around his waist and rubbed his lower back. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“Unless you’re betting money,” Scott corrected.
“Mitch is going to have to toss in twice as much into the pot now too,” Liam added. “Once you’ve got a lady in your life, your buy-in doubles.”
Mitch rolled his eyes. “So Mark and Adam have told me.”
Paige spied Jane out of the corner of her eye. Her number two was trying to get her attention.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” she said, squeezing Mitch’s muscular back with one hand and Zak’s powerful forearm with the other before taking her leave and being whisked off to the kitchen by a nervous-looking Jane. “What’s up?” she asked, once they were out of earshot of the masses.
“A food blogger.”
Paige squinted in confusion.
Jane’s eyes went wide. “A big-time Seattle food blogger and restaurant reviewer is here, and he wants to talk to you.”
Dread filled Paige’s stomach. “Does he have a complaint?”
Jane shook her head, excitement filling her still-wide eyes. “The opposite. He has nothing but praise. Wants a quote from you.”
Tingles raced up and down Paige’s arms.
Nothing but praise.
She let out a deep breath and nodded. “I need to just check my hair in the mirror, and then I’ll go talk to him.” Then she took off toward the restaurant bathroom to go and collect herself, unable to wipe the smile off her face if she tried.
On cloud nine after speaking with the food blogger and reviewer who had introduced himself as Will Gorgehimself, Paige floated around the full studio, checking in on guests and making sure everyone was still enjoying her food. She perused the biggest table and noticed an empty canape plate. The saying shouldn’t be going like hotcakes, it should be going like canapes. At least Paige’s canapes. Smiling, she grabbed the empty plate and spun around to head next door again and grab more smoked salmon cucumber canapes when a blast from the past—a blast from high school—blocked out the sun in front of her.
His smile was wide, just like his shoulders, and his big, muscular arm was casually draped around the waist of an attractive redheaded woman.
He walked right up to her.
Paige swallowed.
“Hi, Paige!” He released his wife and didn’t bother waiting for Paige to respond before he drew her in for a big hug.
“Garth! Wow, uh, what are you doing here?”
He pulled away, still smiling, and drew his wife back into his embrace. “Our daughter, Lizzie, goes to dance class at Benson School of Dance. Violet extended the invitation to all the parents.”
“Oh!”
Seeing that Garth and Paige were getting caught up after all these years, his wife smiled shyly, then took off in the direction of the makeshift bar in the corner.
“So, how the heck are you?” Garth asked, shoving his large, meaty hands into his pockets. “Looks like you’re doing well. You look great.” His eyes roamed her body from head to toe, but it wasn’t in a creepy predator way, more in just a friendly, long-time-no-see way.
Paige blew out a slow breath. “I am, thanks. Yeah, I just started my own restaurant and catering company.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Next door, actually. We open in a couple of weeks for breakfast and lunch, but I already have a great staff, and we decided to cater this event to test the waters and get people talking about the food.”
He grabbed a couple of appetizers off the tray of a passing waiter. “Well, they look amazing. I’m sure your restaurant is going to become the hottest spot in Seattle.”
“From your mouth to the ears of the masses.”
Paige nibbled on her bottom lip as Garth’s dark-blue eyes grew serious. He leaned in closer before he spoke. “I heard you worked with Marcy.”
“Worked being the operative word. Emphasis on the past tense,” she said with a snort before cocking her head to the side in curiosity. “How did you know?”
“Facebook.”
“What!”
“She posted about how she was your boss, and then when you quit, she badmouthed the crap out of you.”
Ice dripped down Paige’s spine. “She what?”
“Don’t worry, enough people jumped on her and defended you that she took the post down. We all know the hell she put you through during school. Nobody believed for a second the things she posted.”
“What did she post?” Had she spread horrible rumors about Paige? Made fun of her?
Garth shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Nobody believed her, and nobody supported her. Her fall from grace is going to happen, Paige. A little later in life than any of us would have hoped, but it will, trust me. She never had to work for a damn thing in her life. Everything was handed to her, including the money to buy the restaurants. When her dad died, he left her a bunch of cash, and because she had a business management diploma, she thought she could run a restaurant. The one she bought where you worked is her third. She ran off all the staff at the other two and had to close.”
Paige’s eyes went wide. “They all quit?”
He nodded. “You’re not the only person she treats like garbage.” He made a face of regret. “You were just who she treated like garbage the longest … and the worst.”
Bile burned the back of Paige’s throat. She really didn’t want to rehash the past right now. She’d been happy and reveling in the praise of all her admirers before Garth walked in. And yet, the curiosity was overwhelming. Why had Marcy hated her for all those years? Why did she torture her so, try to ruin her life again and again? What had Paige done to warrant such blatant hatred?
Her need to know got the better of her, and she asked the question that had been on her mind for far too long. “Garth, do you know why she hates me? What did I do to her?”
His eyes flicked up to an image behind Paige, and he wandered over to it, encouraging Paige to follow him with a hand at her elbow. “You have a natural beauty,” he said quietly. “A smile that just lights up a room.” His eyes fell back down to hers, and heat wormed its way into her cheeks. Garth was still a very handsome man. He had a way of just looking at a person and putting them at ease. Despite his popularity all through school, he’d never been a jerk or a bully. Not only was he popular, handsome and a star athlete, but he was also a really nice guy.
She nibbled on the inside of her lip before speaking. “Thank you.”
“That’s part of the reason why she went after you the way she did.”
She didn’t understand, and it must have shown on her face.
“You had the perfect life. Your parents were devoted and there for you. You were sweet and kind, polite and generous. Parents and kids, teachers, they all liked you. They all liked your parents. You were smart. You are smart. And you’re beautiful. You don’t have to wear an ounce of makeup, and you still look like a cover model.”
“She told you all of this?” Paige found it hard to believe. Garth had to be embellishing.
His eyes drifted back up to the photo of Paige in the kitchen. “She complained about you all the time to me. How perfect you were. How perfect your life was. She was jealous. Her jealousy fueled her hatred. You had everything she wanted. Her parents never came to her recitals or competitions. She was raised by various nannies and put in day cares. She was given everything but what she wanted most—love, attention, nurturing. So she lashed out, and you were an easy target.”
Paige’s mind reeled. “I find it hard to believe that Marcy was deep enough to know why she behaved the way she did.”
“She d
oesn’t understand why, deep down anyway. Marcy isn’t a deep person.”
“About as deep as a puddle,” Paige murmured, averting her eyes.
Garth chuckled, scratching the close-shaved dark beard on his strong jaw. “True enough. No, though. She complained about how perfect you were, your grades, your parents, your life, but she never said that she was jealous of you. But it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out.”
Paige’s lip twitched. “What did you ever see in her, Garth?”
He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “She was a cheerleader. I was a football player. It was like we were betrothed by the powers that be. I really didn’t feel like I had much of a choice.”
“Until you did.”
“She made it pretty easy.”
Paige exhaled. “That she did.”
“I hate that I stayed with her that long. That I let it get that far.” He dropped his head and shook it, shuffling his feet and shoving his hands back in his pockets. “I’m sorry, Paige.”
As nice as it was to see Garth and catch up, Paige would rather talk about the present or the future than let the past bring her down anymore. Her food and Mitch’s photographs were an absolute hit, and they were both riding the waves of success. She wanted to keep her high as long as she could.
“What are you up to these days, Garth? Where are you working?”
He lifted his head and pinned her with that dashing smile that had won the hearts of far too many freshman girls to count. “I’m a contractor.”
“Oh, cool, and your wife?”
“Deb is a psychologist.”
Paige nodded. “Ah, hence the in-depth breakdown of She who I’d rather not name.”
His smile said it all. “Guilty.”
“Well, I appreciate you guys coming, and it was so nice to see you and catch up.” She rested a hand on the side of his shoulder. “Mingle, eat and enjoy. Thanks again for coming, Garth.” Then without waiting for him to delve any deeper into Marcy Thibodeaux and why she’d treated Paige like a punching bag for twelve years, Paige took off next door to go and grab more food.