Chef Sugarlips_A Ponderosa Resort Romantic Comedy

by Tawna Fenske

  My mother pats my arm. “It nearly ruined his career, but—”

  “We don’t need to do this right now, Mother.” I put a stiff arm around her, willing her to shut the hell up. To stop talking right now while we can still stop this snowball from tumbling into an avalanche.

  But my mother is oblivious. She offers Amber the indulgent just-between-us smile she gives the cameras when she’s sharing some secret ingredient. “Honestly, he’s such a party pooper sometimes,” she stage-whispers. “You’re the first girl he’s dated with spunk. They’re usually these cardboard model types who look like he trimmed them out of Vogue and propped them up on a stick.”

  She clinks her glass against Amber’s bottle of soda, convinced she’s just paid her a compliment. But I see Amber wince, and I know I need to redirect this damn conversation as fast as possible.

  “Mother.” I clear my throat. “How did you get here?”

  “I borrowed your car, of course.” She gives a mock shudder and takes another sip of champagne. “The resort has these lovely white vans with automatic transmission, but of course they’re all in use,” she tells Amber. “That silly Audi is so hard to drive with the stick shift and all.”

  Christ. I need to get her out of here.

  Amber chatters happily with a story about learning to drive a farm truck. I’m missing the details as I fumble around in my brain for a way to make a subtle, graceful exit.

  My mother yanks my arm again. “I was telling Amber it would be fun to have the two of you come to one of my tapings,” she says. “I could fly you both out as soon as the show starts back up.”

  “That would be amazing.” Amber gives me an odd look, probably wondering why I’m sweating like a wrestler and clutching my phone like I expect it to beam me up. “I had no idea your mom was the Chef Melody.”

  “The one and only.” I force a smile. “We’ve been trying to keep it a little quiet, you know?”

  “Ah, the paparazzi.” My mother laughs and swipes a champagne flute off the tray of a passing waiter. I start to reach for it when a woman in a pink dress rushes over.

  “Oh my goodness, Chef Melody?” The woman practically swoons as my mother turns to smile. “I’m a huge fan of your show. I loved that episode where you did that thing with the melon and the prosciutto and all those little edible flowers?”

  My mother swirls her champagne and laughs a little too loudly. “That was a good one, wasn’t it?”

  “I’m Sandra, and I was wondering if I could get a photo with you to post on—”

  “Actually, Sandra, we’re trying to keep things sort of hush-hush here.” I edge closer to my mother, desperate to do damage control. “Chef Melody was just leaving. We don’t want to steal the bride and groom’s thunder, you know?”

  “Oh.” The woman frowns. “Right, I understand. But if I could just get an autograph—”

  “Later,” I say, my voice sharper than I mean it to be. “We’ll mail you one, I promise.”

  I can feel Amber’s eyes on me as the woman shoots me a confused look, then frowns and wanders away.

  There’s no relief, though, because my mother is talking again and my head is pounding and oh my God I need this to stop.

  “Well, anyway, Amber,” my mother continues, “it’s like I was saying—”

  “I’m texting Bree,” I interrupt, punching her number on my phone. “I can’t get away right now to take you home, but you can’t stay here, Mother.”

  “Why ever not?”

  “Because you’re not on the guest list.”

  I type the words as fast as I can, trying not to notice my fingers shaking on the phone screen.

  * * *

  MOTHER CRASHED WEDDING PLEASE COME.

  * * *

  Amber moves closer as I shove the phone back in my pocket. “We built some wiggle room into the food budget,” she whispers. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be a big deal for her to stay.”

  “For heaven’s sake,” my mother says. “I wasn’t planning to eat anything anyway. Just visit a little. Get to know your friends. Especially Amber.”

  They beam at each other like best friends as my mother lifts her champagne glass in a toast. “To love,” she says before knocking back the rest of her drink.

  Amber looks at me, clearly trying to read the situation. I’m smiling like a fucking madman, hoping like hell she can’t read my mind. Hoping everything isn’t about to come unraveled. Hoping even more that Bree gets here soon.

  I feel myself morphing into Damage Control Sean like the Hulk ripping through his T-shirt with green-tinged skin, and I hear Sarah’s taunting voice in my head.

  “Try being a real person sometime instead of a robot hell-bent on fixing things at any cost.”

  But the situation is too far gone now for me to do anything else. To be anyone else. I’m sweating like a goddamn sumo wrestler.

  “Your mom got to meet Jade,” Amber says, trying to pull me back into the conversation.

  “A beautiful bride.” My mother is too busy waving to the bartender to notice Amber’s puzzled look.

  “She’s kidding,” I whisper. “My mother’s a big jokester.”

  “Oh.” Amber frowns, then steps closer and lowers her voice. “It really isn’t a big deal if she wants to stay,” she whispers. “The bride was thrilled about having a celebrity at the wedding. She asked the videographer to get some footage of the two of them—”

  “No.” I wave at a guy with tray of champagne flutes, giving him my best “keep away” look. The guy hesitates, then heads the other direction.

  Jesus, where is Bree?

  “Darling,” my mother says, grabbing my arm again. “Amber tells me the two of you are very serious. Wedding bells, maybe?”

  Amber’s eyes go wide, and the color drains from her face. “I never said—”

  “Tell you what,” my mother says, oblivious to Amber’s distress. To my distress. To any of the chaos around her. “Maybe Amber can come by the house tonight and the three of us can—”

  “We’re just friends,” I blurt, needing my mother to drop this. Needing to get her the hell out of here before she does any more damage. “I’m sorry there’s been a misunderstanding, but we really do need to get you out of here.”

  My phone buzzes in my back pocket and I almost wilt with relief. I yank it out of my pocket and scan the text from Bree.

  * * *

  Just got here. WTF?

  * * *

  “I’ll explain later,” I say, not sure if I’m talking to Amber or Bree or myself. My heart is hammering in my head, and I spot another wide-eyed pair of fans pointing at my mother and mouthing the words “Chef Melody.”

  I grab my mother’s arm. “Come on,” I say. “Bree’s here. She’s excited about giving you a tour of the spa. Remember your spa date?”

  The spa is far from operational, but my mother nods and smiles. “I do love a good Swedish massage,” she says. “Amber, dear, it was lovely to meet you.”

  I dare a glance at Amber, and my heart sinks. Her face is the color of egg white, and she has a stricken expression.

  “It was—um—nice meeting you, too, Mrs.—Chef Melody. I—will you excuse me?”

  She doesn’t wait to say more goodbyes. Doesn’t meet my eyes at all. Just turns away, mumbling something about checking the wedding cake.

  “I’ll see you in a few minutes,” I call after her. “We can—uh—talk about the rest of the catering stuff.”

  Amber doesn’t respond. Just vanishes into the crowd, leaving a twisty feeling in my gut as I turn and lead my mother out the door.

  Chapter 15

  AMBER

  I stand there staring like an idiot as Sean hustles his mother across the parking lot in the gauzy Central Oregon twilight. Stars are just beginning to prick the sky, and there’s a chill in the air that wasn’t there when I trailed the happy newlyweds down the grassy path to their happily-ever-after.

  I’m sorry there’s been a misunderstanding.

 
; We’re just friends.

  I keep watching as Bree steps out of her car and confers with Sean. I know I’m being a creeper watching them like this, but I can’t stop. Sean doesn’t see me standing here at the side door, but Bree does. Her gaze holds mine before flitting away, but I see something in her eyes.

  Pity.

  “Hey.”

  I turn at the sound of my sister’s voice, and I know from her creased brow that she heard everything.

  “Hey.” I straighten my shoulders and do my best impression of a chick who isn’t losing her shit.

  “Are you okay?” Jade touches my elbow, nudging me out of the way of a server wobbling beneath a giant platter of cake slices.

  “Sure.” I force a smile. “I get it. Now’s not the right time to meet his mother.”

  Jade frowns. “That’s probably not it. He’s a new business owner. I’m sure he was just freaked out about having his mom crash a wedding.”

  I wish I could believe her. “Sure. That’s probably it. I should get back to—”

  “Amber.” Jade’s grip on my elbow tightens, and her eyes hold mine with a ferocious sort of sympathy. “Whatever happens, give him a chance to explain. Don’t sabotage this.”

  I nod and take a shaky breath. “Absolutely.”

  She lets go of me, and I get back to working the room. There are old friends to greet, groomsmen to cut off at the bar, and one sly reindeer to herd back outside after the groom’s tipsy uncle releases her onto the dance floor.

  When Sean reappears in the doorway, my heart stutters. I watch him march straight back to the buffet and confer with one of the servers. Then he moves to the bar, his chef’s whites a bright contrast to Ginny’s all black ensemble. One of the kids from the culinary school walks over with a tray full of empty cake plates, and Sean points him to the other side of the room.

  He’s working. That’s why he’s not looking over here. That’s all it is.

  “Amber, I’ve been looking for you.” The mother of the bride sidles up to me and puts an arm around my shoulder. “Everything’s so lovely, sweetheart. What a wonderful job you’ve done.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Parker.”

  The older woman smiles and waves at a twenty-something guy in a crisp blue shirt. “Have you met our older son, Bradley?” She beckons him over, and Bradley appears at her side. His eyes are bright azure, and his dark hair is thick and wavy. When he smiles at me, I feel nothing at all.

  “Bradley, this is Amber,” she says. “Amber, meet Bradley. He’s been away at medical school, but he’ll be back later this year to do his residency at St. Charles.”

  “Pleasure to meet you.” Bradley shakes my hand with a grip that’s firm and warm and a look that says, “pardon my mother,” but also “hello, there.”

  My whole body feels numb, but I clear my throat and force a smile. “It’s very nice to meet you, Bradley. Will you excuse me a minute? I need to see if the bartenders are running low on ice.”

  I turn and hurry away, needing to get out of here. Needing to stay focused on my job.

  “Thanks again, dear,” calls the mother of the bride as I hurry away. “We’ll be in touch later this week.”

  I force myself to do a cheerful wave before darting back across the room to where Ginny—who has plenty of ice—tries to hand me a glass of wine. “You look like you need this.”

  I shake my head, needing to keep my head clear. Maybe some fresh air will help.

  “I’ll pass on the wine while I’m working,” I tell Ginny. “Can I get you anything from next door?”

  She surveys the bar and shrugs. “If you have another jar of maraschino cherries, we’re getting low.”

  “Coming right up.”

  I hurry out of the barn, taking big gulps of sage-scented breeze as I hurry down the path toward the outbuilding where we’re keeping all the food.

  Everything’s fine. Everything will be fine. There’s no need to freak out, to start jumping to conclusions.

  I’m breathless by the time I reach the other building. Flinging the door open, I nearly collide with Sean.

  “Amber,” he says, gripping me by the arms.

  “Hey.” I glance down, surprised to see he’s changed out of his chef’s uniform. “Are you leaving?”

  He nods and releases me. “Yeah.” His throat moves as he swallows and takes a step back. “Meal service is done, and Josh has cleanup under control. I’ll be back in a few hours to pack up my stuff.”

  I can’t read his expression. His green eyes are darting all over the place like he wants to be anywhere but here. Like he’s been caught doing something regrettable. Am I reading too much into this?

  Maybe I’m overreacting. I take a shaky breath and offer up the most natural smile I can muster. “It was nice meeting your mother.”

  Sean closes his eyes briefly, hands balling into fists. “Right,” he says. “I’m really sorry about that.”

  “It wasn’t a big deal.” I wave a hand, letting him know it’s cool. I’m fine. Everything’s fine here. “I was a little surprised to find out your mom is the Chef Melody. Seems like something you would have mentioned.”

  Shit. I didn’t mean to say that. I didn’t mean for it to come out like an accusation. I’m still smiling, but Sean isn’t. There’s a muscle twitching beside his left eye, and I know whatever comes out of his mouth next isn’t going to be good. I know.

  “Amber.”

  My mouth goes dry as I wait for the rest of the sentence. Wait for an explanation or an apology or some indication of what’s going through his head. But Sean just looks at me, those green eyes dark and uncertain.

  Give him a chance to explain. Don’t sabotage this.

  Jade’s words force me to take a shaky breath, and I will myself not to freak out. I can’t jump to conclusions here. Maybe everything’s really okay.

  But Sean says nothing. It’s like he’s lost his power of speech. Like the words he needs to say are covered in barbed hooks and stuck in the back of his throat.

  Ordering my voice not to wobble, I tuck my hair behind one ear. “So, uh—are you still planning to stay the night?”

  He closes his eyes again and takes a heavy breath. When his eyes open, I have my answer. I have it before he says a single word.

  But the words themselves sting more. “You’re an amazing girl, but—”

  “No, it’s fine.” I choke out an awkward laugh and take a step back. “Whatever, it’s no big deal.”

  Sean shakes his head, hands still clenched in fists. “Things are a little complicated for me right now.”

  “Complicated,” I repeat, nodding like an idiot. “You mean the fact that your famous mother has been staying with you all month and you never once mentioned it? That kind of complicated?”

  He winces, and I wish I could take back those words. Maybe not the words, but the tone. I hate how bitter I sound, but I’d hate myself more if I didn’t say what I’m thinking. If I let myself simmer on the hurt. It’s like Sean clamming up is having the opposite effect on me.

  Sean opens his mouth, then closes it. I see him wrestling with words, but I don’t expect the ones he actually says.

  “You’re an amazing girl,” he says again, and I swear to God I’ve never hated any four words more. “I just don’t think I have the bandwidth for this right now.”

  I stare at him. “The bandwidth.”

  His throat moves as he swallows with an audible click. “We said from the start that we weren’t going to get involved,” he says. “That neither of us wanted a relationship right now.”

  I could punch him right now. I curl my fingernails into my palm and force myself to count to ten. Five. Whatever. “We also said we weren’t going to sleep together,” I say. “I guess we’re both big fat liars.”

  The look in his eyes is almost enough to make me dial back the snark. But the words coming out of his mouth flip the switch the opposite way.

  “I really have enjoyed your company,” he says slowly. “And maybe
once things aren’t so messed up—”

  “Sure, that’s fine.” I force a smile I’m positive looks like a serial killer’s and take a step back. “Look, I need to get back over there. You have what you need to finish up the job?”

  Sean seems to hesitate, then gives a sharp nod. “Yeah. I’m good.”

  “Great!”

  Tears sting the back of my throat as I order myself to keep smiling like a goddamn Barbie doll. I try taking another step back, but my heel catches on a warped floorboard. Sean jumps to catch me, but I yank myself back and wave him off. “It’s fine. I’m fine. It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

  I start to offer a handshake, but bury my fist in the folds of my dress instead. It’s not that formality would be ridiculous at this point. It’s that touching him, even a little, would unravel me.

  I edge back again, determined to escape with my dignity intact. That’ll be a first. “It’s been nice knowing you. I’ll see you around I’m sure.”

  Then I turn and stumble out the door, gulping back tears as I hurl myself into the darkness.

  Chapter 16

  SEAN

  I don’t know how long I stand there in the doorway of my guest bedroom, watching my mother sleep. The blankets rise and fall in a steady rhythm, assuring me she’s still breathing and is likely to wake up with a bad hangover instead of not waking at all.

  That’s always been my biggest fear, ever since I was little. That she’d lie down to sleep it off and would never get up.

  I jump when someone touches my arm. “Hey.”

  I turn to see Bree watching me with concern. “I made you some tea.”

  “Tea?”

  She shrugs and drops her hand. “It seems like the kind of thing normal families would do,” she says. “Make tea and talk about their feelings.”

  I can’t think of anything to say to that, so I follow her down the hall and into the living room, willing to swill gallons of Earl Grey if it will lend some semblance of normalcy to this situation.