Island Thyme Cafe (Madrona Island Series Book 3)

by Andrea Hurst

  Lindsey burst into her room. “Do you have any hair straightener? I can’t find mine.”

  “I don’t use one,” Jude said. “We can get some at Island Drug later if you want.”

  Lindsey rolled her eyes and fled back to the bathroom.

  Jude got out of bed and pulled on her robe. A long, hot shower might help, followed by a triple mocha. She heard Lindsey slam the front door and clomp down the steps to the café. 6:00 a.m. sharp. Jude was impressed.

  It was going to be an extra stressful day all around. The set designer from the film had put everything in order for a shoot that would take place at the table by the window in the café. A menu had been given to Ryan, and Jude noticed it included chocolate mousse.

  The warm water pounded on her back and neck as she hummed softly in the shower. She inhaled the calming scent of her favorite lavender soap from Tea & Comfort, and imagined the water rinsing off all her tension and sending it down the drain.

  After towel drying, she returned to her room to dress. Her house was silent and, she had to admit, peaceful again. In her mind, she blessed Ryan for coming up with the idea of Lindsey working with him in the kitchen. The girl needed a routine and something to do to feel good about herself.

  Dressed and ready, Jude headed downstairs. She avoided the kitchen and went directly to the espresso machine behind the bar. They wouldn’t be open for almost an hour, but there was a lot of prep to do first. The crew members and cast would need beverages and morning snacks. The smell of fresh baked blackberry muffins drifted in from the kitchen and made her stomach growl. Jude turned on the large coffee makers, ground the fresh roasted local coffee beans, and started the brewing. For herself, she brewed two shots in the espresso maker, covered it with foamy steamed milk, and added a generous pump of chocolate. She took a seat at the bar with her iPad for a quick email check. There was a note from the assistant director requesting a few changes to the menu. She gulped her mocha, slipped off the stool, and headed into the kitchen.

  It made Jude smile to see Lindsey wearing an apron over her shorts and T-shirt. Her sun-streaked hair was rolled in a bun and she was chopping vegetables furiously. The smell of garlic and thyme filled the air.

  “Good morning,” Ryan said.

  “Maybe,” Jude said. “A few requests for changes in todays menu. Now they want fresh squeezed orange juice for the scene and the muffins to be gluten free. Can you do that?”

  Ryan nodded. “That’s why we’re hustling in here. I figured there would be last minute changes. We won’t officially open for lunch until the scene is complete.”

  “I’ll take care of the chilled wine and make sure each glass a strawberry in it,” Jude said. She walked over to Lindsey and admired the platters of vegetables she had sliced. “Good morning,” she said. “Did you get some breakfast?”

  Lindsey cocked her head toward her mother. “Ryan threw together an omelet. It wasn’t half bad.” She turned and went back to her chopping.

  “If it’s okay with Ryan,” Jude said, “Why don’t you come out and watch them shoot the scene today in the dining room?”

  Lindsey looked over to Ryan. “I’d really like to.”

  Ryan eyed the pile of cut vegetables. “I think I can spare you for an hour or so.”

  Jude could hardly believe her eyes. Ryan was taming the wild beast she called her daughter. Maybe . . . she stopped herself before she set herself up with more expectations.

  “I’ll let you know when they arrive,” she said before rushing out.

  Just as she got back into the lobby area, the crew was piling in with all of their equipment, and she knew she’d better get the coffee ground and ready. As people clamored in with lights and other equipment, she saw the set designer arranging plates and glasses, and trying different flower arrangements at the table. Meanwhile, the cameramen checked angles and figured out where to shoot. The extras were brought in and placed at their tables.

  Jude rushed to get cups of coffee out on the bar and have pitchers of ice water ready. She knew that everyone was waiting now for Peyton to arrive. With that thought, the door opened, and in walked Peyton Chandler followed by her entourage. Wearing dark sunglasses, a skimpy red sundress, and carrying a pricey Gucci bag, she strutted in for all to see. Jude noticed Lindsey standing by the door to the kitchen, watching the entrance intently. Her eyes never left the actress. Jude waved Lindsey over for an introduction. Lindsey seemed quite interested in being a part of what was going on.

  “Hi, everyone,” Peyton said. “Are you waiting for me?”

  Jude almost choked. Lindsey stood beside her, and it was obvious that she was very excited to meet Peyton.

  “Well, hello,” said Peyton. “And who is this pretty young girl?”

  Jude stepped forward. “She’s my daughter, Lindsey.”

  Peyton shook Lindsey’s hand, showcasing her best smile. “Are you here for the summer?”

  “Yes, I’m helping Chef Ryan out in the kitchen as his sous chef. It’s so great to meet you.”

  “Well, thank you,” Peyton said.

  The director walked over and took Peyton’s hand. “Good morning, darling. We’re all set up and ready for you.” He guided her over to the table so the shoot could begin. The young actor who was playing the local reporter looked familiar to Jude, maybe from TV. He took his place at the well-set table for the lunch scene and took a sip of water.

  “Quiet everyone,” the director said. The actors got into place, cameras were readied, and a hush fell before he said, “All right, action!”

  A low buzz of conversation and the clattering sound of coffee cups hitting saucers began. Extras were mixed throughout the café in booths and tables. A waitress moved among them filling coffee cups, just like a regular day at the café. Jude watched as the two main actors began their conversation. Peyton crossed her hands in front of her on the table, and smiled innocently at the man across from her. She was obviously wrapping that local reporter around her diamond-clad finger as she weaved her story.

  “I’m so worried,” Peyton said. She leaned over toward the reporter, revealing ample cleavage. “My husband and I finally had some time alone. He’s so busy with his career, I barely see him. And then,” Peyton dabbed her moist eyes. “All of sudden he was so pale and passed out right in front of me. I told the captain to find a hospital immediately. And now, I just don’t know if he will make it.”

  The reporter seemed sympathetic and quite mesmerized by the actress’s charm. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, Mrs. Blackwell. I’ll see to it personally.”

  “Call me Lizbeth,” she said coyly.

  “Lizbeth, then,” he said. “Is there anything I can do for you? Find you a place to stay, call a relative?”

  Peyton looked at him with grateful eyes. “Thank you for your kindness. I’ll just stay on the yacht for now. But you could . . .”

  “What?” he said.

  “Keep the story quiet, just for a little while?”

  The reporter’s face sank. “Of course, whatever you need.”

  “Thank you. You know what will happen if people start finding out the infamous Blackwell is here; we’ll have no peace.”

  The reporter rose and handed her his card. “I totally understand. If I can be of any service, you know where to find me.”

  The way he looked like he wanted to devour her, Jude thought he was probably hopeful that Lizbeth would take his hand and bring him back to the yacht with her. But no luck. Lizbeth lowered her head and faked more tears.

  “I will let you know,” she said and watched him exit the scene.

  It seemed like hours went by as they shot the scene three more times. Fresh food had to be brought in, hair and make up were checked with each take.

  “Working on a film would be so cool,” Lindsey said beside her.

  “Right,” Jude said. That was about the last thing she hoped Lindsey would do with her life.

  In the middle of saying her lines, Peyton lifted her hand in the air to stop
the shoot. She pushed back her dark, silky locks, and came abruptly out of character. “Cut, break,” she demanded. “This doesn’t seem real. I think the chef should come out in this scene and ask us if we want anything else.”

  Jude sighed. That was quite a chess move on Peyton’s part. But she forced a smile and went into the kitchen. “Ryan, your presence is being requested by Peyton. She would like you to come out and ask how their meal is going on camera.”

  He rolled his eyes, dried his hands on a towel, and buttoned his chef coat. “I don’t remember signing a waiver to be in the film and I damn well don’t want to.”

  “Just come out then and humor her a minute. She’s holding up the shoot.”

  Ryan marched over to the table as ordered.

  “Wait,” the director said. “Let us get the cameras rolling and then walk in and ask for their order.”

  A dark frown crossed Ryan’s face. “No release.”

  The director nodded and motioned for Ryan to move to the table. “We’ll take care of that later.”

  He mock bowed before Peyton. “And how was everything today, ma’am? Can I get you anything else?”

  Peyton looked at him with fury in her eyes. No young, attractive woman liked being called ma’am. Jude guessed Ryan threw that in specifically for that reason. He had more spunk than she thought.

  “I’d just love a chocolate soufflé,” she drawled.

  Ryan hesitated. “May I suggest a lighter dessert?” he said, glaring at Peyton. “I could bring out a dish of our homemade grapefruit and thyme sorbet with a couple of our special macaroons.”

  Peyton pouted. “If you don’t have what I really want here, then I guess that will have to do.”

  It was obvious to Jude that they were locked in a power struggle and neither was going to back down.

  “I guess it will,” he said.

  Ryan turned abruptly toward the kitchen, just as the director called a halt to the

  scene.

  Peyton stood blocking Ryan’s exit, and faced the director. “Do we have it?” Peyton asked impatiently. “Is my alibi handled now?”

  The director looked put out, but acquiesced. “Why don’t we call it a wrap? The crew can break for lunch, and we’ll meet back on the pier for the shoot on the yacht at 2:00 p.m. sharp.”

  The crew began to disperse, but Peyton was not finished with Ryan. She touched his shoulder, and whispered in his ear. Jude could not hear what she was saying and moved closer.

  “You know how I love your, rich, creamy chocolate mousse,” Peyton cooed.

  Ryan shook free. “I’ll put it on the dinner menu this week,” he said.

  “That would be so sweet of you.”

  “No problem,” Ryan said, “now if you will excuse me . . .”

  Peyton tried to get another word in, but Ryan showed her his back as he hustled back to the kitchen. Hands on hips, she glared after him. Realizing she was being watched, Peyton turned to her audience. “It’s nice to have an “in” with the chef,” she said winking.

  Jude wanted to strangle her long, perfect neck, but reminded herself she had work to do. The shoot was over. Peyton showed up, worked for a few hours, and now she’d be off till the afternoon. Jude could only imagine the seven figures the actress was paid. She noticed Peyton still staring toward the kitchen and knew exactly what was on her mind, but before Jude could react, Peyton glided right through the doors into Ryan’s private domain.

  Jude hesitated. It would be best not to follow her and let Ryan handle it. She went back to the bar and supervised cleanup as the crew returned their dirty coffee cups before leaving. Lunch today would probably be quite crowded, and she didn’t have much time to turn things around before the hungry tourists and regulars started arriving. Luckily, Lindsey was back in the kitchen helping Ryan, and the waitresses had arrived early, so everyone was hustling to put the restaurant back in order.

  Jude couldn’t hear what was going on in the kitchen, but without a doubt, Ryan would be escorting Peyton out fairly quickly. And of course, she was right. But not completely. She was surprised to see Peyton exit with Ryan following her out the back door. They sat down at a table in the middle of the deck, in clear view of everyone in the café through the dining room windows. It was obvious the actress was setting the scene to be sure Jude and everyone else who was still in the restaurant would see just how cozily she was sitting with the chef.

  Laughing, smiling, flirting, Peyton put on quite a show. When she reached over and put her hand on Ryan’s leg, Jude’s chest tightened. For one minute, she wondered if Ryan and Peyton were an item again. Was Ryan lying to her? It all looked so real, but then with an actress how could you ever tell what was real and what was fake? Was this just staged? Staged by a professional to cause more problems? She sighed.

  Ryan, red-faced and frowning, finally walked back in. He waved to Jude and headed back into the kitchen. Peyton made her exit much like her entrance, pretentious and attention grabbing. Jude sighed. One down. How many to go?

  Fortunately they had cancelled dinner service tonight because they’d had no idea how long the shoot would take and how late lunch would run. Jude wanted to ask Ryan what was going on. Why hadn’t he told her he had a past with this woman before she arrived? All Jude knew was that she might want to rethink their relationship. At least question him a bit more. He’d assured her that his relationship with Peyton, or whatever it had been, was long over. But could she believe him after what she saw today?

  Ryan strode back into the kitchen before saying something in public he would regret. He didn’t want Jude exposed to the depth of his anger before he could calm down and explain everything to her. Ryan couldn’t believe Peyton. “If you come right now, we can settle this,” she had told him. He had no idea just what they were settling, but he’d taken the bait. And in turn she’d brought him out there, flirted with him, and purposely tried to make a public scene. When he’d asked her what she wanted to clear up, she grinned and said, “Us, honey.”

  What must Jude have thought? He diced the celery and the onions in prep for the lunch special. With each knife cut he imagined chopping Peyton out of his life, word by word. If he just ignored that woman, maybe she would go away, but of course he knew that would never be the case.

  Lindsey walked over and admired his handiwork with the knife. “Could you believe how beautiful Peyton is? She’s such a good actress. And you knew her.”

  Ryan just rolled his eyes.

  “Do you think Mom would mind if I watched some of the shoot down at the pier after we finish here? They told me it was okay. It might run late.”

  “You better ask her,” he said.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Lindsey was out of the kitchen faster than he’d seen her move all day, and back almost as fast. From the smile on her face, Jude must have said yes. He hoped Jude wasn’t too disappointed that Lindsey was heading out on her first afternoon in town.

  “What time will I be done here today?” she asked.

  “You’ve only been here a few hours,” Ryan said.

  “Mom said I could go to the shoot, and I don’t want to miss too much.

  Ryan wiped his hands on a towel. “About 3:00. In the meantime, could you get the avocados peeled? We’re going to have people coming in for lunch any minute.”

  “All right, all right,” Lindsey said. “Peyton told me I could come watch her shoot any time. It sure was fun watching. It must be amazing working on a movie set.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure it is,” Ryan said. “Meanwhile, you’re working in the kitchen.”

  “I know,” Lindsey said with a sigh. “I’m on it.”

  She propped herself on the stool by the counter and began peeling avocados for sandwiches. The daily special was crisp, apple smoked bacon, local lettuce, tomato, and Coho salmon sandwiches.

  “Two specials and a shrimp salad,” a waitress yelled through the order window.

  Ryan checked the temperature of the grill. It was siz
zling hot, so he could start searing the salmon. He’d baked the savory garlic thyme bread last night and would cut it thick for each individual sandwich.

  Lindsey assembled the sandwiches and dressed them with a pickle at the side and a scoop of homemade potato chips fresh from the fryer.

  Ryan dropped another handful of sliced potatoes into the oil and watched them sizzle until golden brown. Sizzling was probably what Jude was doing. He was going to have to tell her more than he wanted to even remember much less share that part of his life. After the morning antics, he had to prove to her that he was not interested in Peyton.

  An idea came into his mind. There was no dinner service tonight, and Lindsey was going to be out for a while. What if he made a wonderful early picnic supper for just the two of them? He sighed, for the first time letting out the breath he’d been holding all morning. He would open that exquisite bottle of Chardonnay that a friend had sent from the Napa Valley. It was already in the wine chiller. He would serve it in crystal glasses.

  As he worked, he created the meal in his mind. Salmon salad sandwiches. What would be better? He would put aside some of the salmon into a bowl and add fresh squeezed lemon, cut up fresh picked tarragon, very thinly cut red onion and celery, and blend it with mayonnaise and whipped cream cheese. He’d add a hard boiled egg, a dash of salt and pepper, and voila, salmon salad.

  A waitress took Ryan out of his daydream by calling in another order. “Two soup and sandwich specials, one lemon thyme chicken pasta.”

  Lindsey moved into action with the chicken dish alongside the new prep chef he was training. Ryan continued making sandwiches. The orders continued to pour in. Ryan would have to wait for a down moment to catch Jude’s attention and mention the picnic. It seemed that everyone in town had decided to eat there today. He hoped Jude was handling everything well in the front. Just as he thought of her, she appeared in the doorway. Her classic smile was there, but her eyes were tinged with sadness.

  “Sorry for the rush guys, it’s finally slowing down,” Jude said. “You’re doing a great job back here.”