by Casey Dawes
The room was decorated in cool gray colors with solid-looking furniture. He walked to the large mullioned window at the far wall. A view over a vegetable garden to the mountains beyond provided good light. The room was homey and comfortable, not that he’d be spending much time here.
“When do you serve breakfast?”
“We don’t have many guests except for the weekends. That’s when Mandy—she’s our chef—does a lot of the cooking. During the week she sets out a variety of bread, fruit, yogurt, and cereal.” A frown creased her forehead. “Is a big breakfast during the week important to you?”
“As long as I can get something before I leave, which will be early in the morning, I’ll be fine. I’m looking forward to tasting Mandy’s cooking, though. I met her last night at Costanoa Grill.”
“Oh. I see.”
That makes one of us.
Sarah gestured across the hallway. “That’s Mandy’s room over there.”
His throat tightened. “I didn’t know she lived here.”
Sarah nodded. “It’s part of the arrangement.” The frown reappeared. “Is that a problem?”
“No, no. Not at all.” Proximity made it easier to see if she’d be open to a brief fling.
Chapter 2
By early that afternoon, James had moved his belongings to the inn and was on his way to meet the movie caterer he’d hired before he left LA, someone he’d worked with frequently. One less hassle in his life. Sally had the sense of humor needed to deal with actors’ high-strung nerves.
She’d arrived from Southern California with her rig the night before. When he drove into the motel parking lot, she was waiting for him outside the catering truck, dressed in her traditional Hawaiian shirt and mid-calf pants. Long purple earrings contrasted to her short iron-gray hair.
He pulled up to her and popped open the locks on his car. He’d learned long ago that Sally clutched her independence like a country woman with her purse in the city. Gentlemanly niceties made her cranky.
Cranky interrupted the flow of a well-disciplined day. Something to be avoided at all costs.
“Thanks for coming up early,” he said as she settled into the front seat of his Ford Explorer. He headed the car north.
“Always a good idea. I’ve been up here before, so I know a lot of the local grocers and where the farmer’s markets are, but things are constantly changing.” She rolled her head and her neck cracked. “I’m getting too old for this gig. Retirement is sounding good.”
He laughed. “You’ll never retire, Sally. You’d miss all this fun and excitement.”
She shook her head. “My sister has a place in Hawaii, and she’s been bugging me for years to come stay with her. Sounds good to me.”
Tension squeezed his shoulder muscles. If Sally left the business, it would be a blow to his carefully orchestrated career path. Over the years, he’d developed a roster of people he could depend on. Sally was one of the best movie caterers he knew.
Dank odors from fields of Brussels sprouts wafted into the car. Beyond the odiferous vegetables, waves crested into outlying rocks.
“Sure is pretty up here.” Sally stared toward the ocean for a few minutes.
“Yeah.”
They were silent for a few more miles. Sally had something on her mind. He could feel it, but he knew better than to press. She’d let him know what it was when she was ready.
A little south of Davenport, he made a left onto a narrow, paved road. “By tomorrow this road will be blocked with signs that read ‘Locals Only.’ I figure you can set up your truck at the end of the pavement by the path to the beach. There’s an empty lot we can use for the canteen tent. The crew will be here Sunday, and the actors will arrive Monday.”
“Glad we don’t have any big stars or finicky eaters on this shoot,” she said. “That last gig we did down by Santa Barbara was a graduate-level course on misery.”
“Good thing you had Julie working for you,” he said. “She lets everything roll off her back. She going to be with you this time?”
Sally cleared her throat.
What’s bugging Sally must have something to do with her top assistant.
“Julie’s getting married in a few weeks. She quit and moved to Seattle for her husband’s new job.”
“Who’d you replace her with?”
Sally shook her head. “Couldn’t find anyone. Seems like everyone is doing a movie this month. I think I can handle it on my own, but … ”
She let the sentence trail off, leaving him to figure the rest of it out for himself, as she often did.
He pulled the car to a stop. “You want me to see if I can find a local caterer to fill in.”
“It’d be good training for someone,” Sally said as she opened her door. “If you can handle a movie crew, you’re ready for most anything. ’Cept maybe an extreme bridezilla.” She shuddered. “I’d never do weddings.”
Would Mandy be interested? With her other obligations the movie catering might be too much. He needed someone reliable. There was also the matter of her moods.
James trailed Sally to the end of the pavement. She stared at the land for a few minutes then nodded. “It’ll work. How soon can I get in?”
“Tomorrow. The tent and tables will be set up Saturday afternoon to be ready for Sunday’s crew.”
“Good. I’ll prep between now and then. Be good if I had some help.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
• • •
“You did what?” Mandy asked, her voice growing louder with each word.
“I rented a room to the film guy you met last night—the one you waited on.” Sarah plucked a ripe tomato from the vine and handed it to Mandy.
“Why?”
Sarah pressed her fists into the small of her back and stretched. “It’s what I do, Mandy. Rent rooms. Don’t forget you’re the one who gave him my business card.”
“Darn.” Mandy yanked a carrot from the ground.
“What’s with you? He seems nice enough.”
“He’s from Hollywood.” Mandy went for another tuber.
“So what? He’ll only be here for a few weeks, and then he’ll be out of our lives. Besides, what do you have against people from Hollywood? I thought you were from New Jersey.”
“Lola lives in New Jersey.” Mandy grasped another leafy top.
“So your mother isn’t the problem. Your father lives in Hollywood. I forgot.”
As Mandy lunged for another green, Sarah held up her hand. “Stop with the carrots. We have enough.”
“I thought I was the chef.” Defiantly, Mandy yanked one more.
“I have learned to make a salad. No cooking involved. No chance of burning the inn down.” Sarah laughed and held out her hand for the carrot. After Mandy gave it to her, she dangled it in the air. “Poor defenseless little vegetable. You shouldn’t be taking out all that anger on it, should she, Daisy?”
The golden retriever sniffed the carrot and walked away in search of more interesting aromas.
Why the hell had she given the inn’s card to the man? Now she’d have to see him every day and pretend she wasn’t attracted to him.
Sarah picked up the basket loaded with red tomatoes, carrots, deep green peppers, and pale lettuce. “Come inside and tell me what’s bugging you so badly.”
Mandy grabbed the basket from her friend and led the way to the kitchen.
Her nerves tensed like they did when she was standing guard over a coddled egg to insure it didn’t harden.
What was going on with her? She resented working at the grill, had been rude to James, and she’d just yelled at her seven-months-pregnant friend for no good reason. It was so stupid.
Sarah slumped into the kitchen chair, Daisy at her feet.
Mandy dumped the vegetables in the sink and clunked the kettle on the stove.
“This baby better come soon,” Sarah said. “She’s getting far too big for the summer heat, and it’s not even that hot on the coast. Not like it
used to be at Davis.”
“Yeah, the whole Central Valley sucks this time of year.”
“Sit down, Mandy. You’re making me nuts. What is with you?”
Mandy sat. “I dunno.”
Sarah shook her head. “Not good enough. You’d never let me get away with that answer.”
Mandy gave a feeble smile. “No, I wouldn’t.” She sat up straighter and tried to fake disinterest. “It’s no problem for me if James lives here. He seems nice enough. If he isn’t, your ex-Marine boyfriend will take care of him.”
Sarah laughed. “That’s for sure.” She peered at Mandy. “You like him!”
“Do not.”
“Uh-huh.” Sally leveraged herself up, walked to the sink, and began to wash the vegetables.
Mandy stood. “Let me do that.”
Sarah waved a soapy hand. “It’s okay. No matter what position I get in, I’m uncomfortable. I may as well be useful. You can make the tea.” She looked over her shoulder. “While you’re doing that you can tell me why liking James is such a bad thing.”
“I told you. I don’t like him.”
“But you do find him attractive.”
Mandy opened the tea cabinet. “What kind do you want?”
“Peppermint.”
The kettle whistle blew, and Mandy pulled it off the stove. Explaining her aversion to James meant talking about her childhood—which was akin to having surgery without anesthesia.
Mandy prepared the tea and set it on the table before she arranged gingersnaps on a dessert plate. Maybe if she told a sanitized version of the story Sarah would buy it.
They sat at the table.
Sarah stirred sugar into her tea. “Well?”
“Lola and Dana met in college when they were theater majors. Lola wanted to become a Broadway actress, and Dana wanted to direct. Lola finally got a part that was opted for a movie. They moved to LA. I was born. They split. Lola moved back east so she could go back to theater. The end.”
The hiss of running water was the only sound in the kitchen for a few moments.
“You call your parents Lola and Dana?” Sarah asked.
“Sure.”
“Your childhood was that bad?”
“Yeah.” Mandy sipped her tea.
“Why did they split?”
“They were egotistical, just like everyone else in Hollywood. I know everything I need to know about movie types, and how their lives play out in the tabloids.” The memory of her mother’s face featured on every supermarket checkout stand newspaper was still vivid in her memory. She took another sip of tea. “Therefore, I cannot like James Lubbock.”
“But you do.”
“Nope.”
“Want to tell me more?”
“Nope.”
Sarah ate a cookie. “How about a movie tonight? Hunter’s got a few more days down at surf camp in Pismo Beach.”
Mandy smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”
As long as it isn’t a movie starring Lola Parker.
• • •
Mandy was setting up the breakfast tray when James walked into the inn’s kitchen.
“You’re up early.” She forced a smile, poured a cup of coffee, and handed it to him.
“Comes with the territory. Thanks for this.” He took a sip and smiled. “Nice blend.”
Mandy, talk to the nice man. Be polite. Don’t be so difficult. Lola’s voice echoed in her head.
“Why do you have to be up so early?” She pulled cranberry nut bread from the oven and set it on a rack to cool.
He settled into one of the kitchen chairs.
Couldn’t he take his Southern California good looks somewhere else?
“The perils of being an assistant location manager. I have to be at the site before anything starts, and I’m the last one to leave at night.” He smiled at her. “Doesn’t leave much room for a social life.”
Dangerous territory. She didn’t need any kind of a social life involving James Lubbock.
“You don’t have to sit in the kitchen. Guests usually prefer the dining room.” She gestured with the knife she had in her hand.
“But there’s no one as pretty as you in there.” He stood and peered into the dining room. “In fact, there’s no one in there at all. Nope. Much prefer it in here.” He sat down again. “That smells yummy.”
The man was flirting with her. She hadn’t noticed a wedding band, but, like some men, he may not wear one.
“Is there a Mrs. Lubbock?”
“Direct, aren’t you?”
“Well?” Mandy poured milk into a cut glass pitcher and set it next to its matching sugar bowl on the silver tray. She refused to look him in the eye.
“No time for a Mrs. Lubbock.”
“Afraid of commitment?”
“Ouch.” Irritation shaded his voice.
Crap. She’d offended him.
You’ll catch more flies with honey than vinegar.
Lola’s sayings were annoying. And amazingly stuck in Mandy’s head.
Still, she’d promised Sarah she’d be nice. “Sorry. It’s not you. It’s what you represent.” She sliced a piece of cranberry bread, put it on a blue Fiesta plate, and set it before him.
“Hollywood?”
She nodded.
He took a bite of the bread, chewed, and swallowed. “Oh, my. That’s as good as it smells. How long have you been catering?”
“Not too long. My first big job was Annie and John’s wedding last month.”
“Annie and John?”
“Annie is Sarah’s mother’s best friend.”
“I see. Anything else?”
Why does he want to know all this?
“A couple of graduation parties.” She plunked down in the chair opposite him. “It’s the marketing. I’m terrible at it. But I am a good cook.” She pointed at the bread. “You like it, don’t you?”
He nodded.
“How bad is your aversion to Hollywood?” he asked.
“Pretty bad.” She stood and sliced the rest of the bread before arranging it on a plate.
“So, you wouldn’t be interested in a job as an assistant caterer for my current movie.”
“No, I wouldn’t. Wait, did you say caterer? And job?” Mandy sat down again, and leaned across the table.
He chuckled. “Does that mean you might be interested?”
A real catering job.
With actors.
“How long is it? What would I need to do? How much would you pay me?”
“The job means pretty much what you think. Long hours over the next two weeks, but you’d get to work for Sally Minor, one of the few women in the movie catering business. She’s an amazing cook in her own right. As for pay, how does fifteen hundred for the two weeks sound?”
She stood and swept imaginary crumbs off the table. Fifteen hundred dollars? That would be a healthy start toward a new used car.
But…
She sat down again. “What are the hours? I still have a waitress job and making breakfast here.”
“Breakfast may be a problem, because you have to be there early for set up, but you’d probably be done by three.”
“Most of my shifts at the grill are nights, so that should work. Saturdays and Sundays may be a problem. Sarah’s got three couples coming in the weekend after next. They need one of our signature breakfasts.” She smiled to mask the churning acid in her stomach.
The money was good. An opportunity to learn something new. And it was only for two weeks.
She glanced at James.
Two weeks around him.
The acid in her stomach increased.
“Let me talk to Sally and see if we can work around weekend mornings,” he said. “You free today?”
“Until three. That’s when my shift starts at the grill.”
He nodded. “You can come over to the location this morning to meet Sally, if that’s okay with you.” He ate the last bit of bread before standing and heading to the coffee pot.
&
nbsp; “I’ll get that.” Mandy started to rise, but he held up his hand.
“I can pour my own coffee, thanks.” He headed for the door. “After we go to the location, I’ll take you to lunch. I found this great little restaurant in Davenport.”
He walked from the room.
Mandy stared at the open doorway and wondered if she’d lost her mind.
She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down to think. The story she’d told Sarah yesterday was such a gloss of the truth it was ridiculous. She had some vague memories of her parents being happy, but the fights were more firmly etched in her mind. Her father—no, Dana—had made his final exit when she was five, and she hadn’t seen him since.
Her mother had always reminded her of a boozy Judy Garland in A Star Is Born. Manic happiness followed by crashing dishes. Mandy was grateful when her mother was working—babysitters were more reliable.
When Mandy was thirteen, Lola was committed to a mental institution for six months. After she was released, medications, when she took them, made Lola tolerable to live with, but didn’t make her any more of a mother than she’d been before. Instead, Mandy became Lola’s maid, secretary, and liar.
When she was eighteen, she’d left home. At twenty-one she’d put three thousand miles between them.
Would working on a movie entangle her back into Lola’s web?
Chapter 3
Around ten that morning, Mandy headed north on Highway 1. Following James’s directions, she turned left just before Davenport. The summer sun threaded through the leaves of the live oaks and madrone, adding a dappled shade to the road.
A modified RV with a purple Vespa strapped to its back occupied the edge of a side lot at the end of the street. Mandy parked her aging Subaru wagon behind it and got out. She spotted James talking to a short, roundish, gray-haired woman. Her purple capris and striped mauve shirt gave her an arty flair.
Mandy walked over.
“Hi, Mandy,” James said. “This is Sally Minor. Sally, this is the gal I’ve been telling you about.”
“Pleased to meet you. Hope you can help out. James says you’ve never been on a movie set before. Tell me what you’ve done.”
Mandy gave the woman a brief recap of her cooking experience, which sounded pitifully small.