After a sip, she said, “It’s not Pride Reserve, but it’s better than boxed wine.”
When he went to pour Allie a glass, she shook her head. “None for me, I’ve got to hit the road soon.” A feeling of giddiness welled up inside her. “I’m looking at a place to live since I don’t have a boyfriend I can crash with.” She eyed her brother, who’d recently abandoned living with her at their father’s vacation home to move in with Dani. “I need to get out of Dad’s house. It’s too big and lonely to stay in all by myself.”
“You can move into the little apartment attached to my office until you find something,” Dani offered.
James shook his head. “No, she can’t.” His eyes pleaded with Dani. “Sometimes, that’s the only place I can go to steal a kiss from you.”
Allie watched her brother and Dani interact. They were two halves to a whole. Would she ever find her perfect half or was she already too much on her own?
Flynn’s sous chef, Mollie brought arrived with the starter, and set the tiny plates in front of them.
“To start, we have wild salmon tartare with sungold tomatoes, haricot vert, and pressed cucumber with a tomato consommé.”
“Fancy,” Allie said and took a bite. “It’s good, but what sets it apart from the other fine dining experiences in Timberline?”
Mollie laughed. “There are no fine dining experiences in Timberline. You have to cross into Aspen for that.”
“True,” James offered. “But what makes us different from anyone within a hundred-mile radius?”
Mollie stood taller and pressed her hands down the front of her blinding white chef’s jacket. “Everything is organic. We purchase locally when we can. Just wait until you get to the main course. I’ve got a venison steak that will melt in your mouth.”
“Oh good, wild game.” Allie smiled and tried to not look like she might get sick. She’d rather eat canned pet food than gnaw on a piece of venison. It didn’t matter how it was cooked, deer meat never tantalized her taste buds.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes with the second course,” Mollie said.
As soon as she was gone, Allie reached for her bag. “Sorry to eat and run, but I’ve got to get to the place I’m trying to buy.”
“Where is it?” James pushed away his nearly empty plate.
“It’s off of Pine Bluffs in a building called Evergreen. Get ready because I’m sure it will need some of your magic.” Her brother was a master craftsman, and he had the skills to turn a piece of coal into a diamond in record time.
He pointed at her. “Are you wearing that?”
She stood and looked down at her Chanel suit and Louboutins. “What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Just hand over your checkbook and let the realtor write in the amount she wants. You can’t negotiate a fair price when your shoes probably cost more than her mortgage.”
He had a point. She glanced at her watch. If she hurried, she could make it back to her father’s and change into something nice but didn’t say empty my bank account.
“You’re right. I’ll change, and then head over.”
“Take Dad’s old Jeep instead of the Porsche.”
“You make me sound awful with your brand shaming.”
He shrugged. “No use arriving with a neon, flashing dollar sign that says I can pay whatever you’re asking.”
“Whatever.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “You two be good,” she said moving past them. “Let me know if the menu is up to par.”
***
She rushed home. As she approached the house, she laughed. Her father who spent his summers on the golf course in Palm Springs, called it their winter cabin, but it was twelve thousand square feet of pure luxury, not the tiny stacked log structure that the word cabin implied. The only reason he kept the place was because her mother didn’t get it in the divorce, and it was paid for.
She raced inside and changed into black slacks, a pink silk blouse, and Kate Spade loafers. She refused to dress down completely. There had to be an entry point to the multimillion-dollar building, and she didn’t want to appear under-qualified either.
The little detour to change her clothes put her behind schedule. She climbed into her father’s old Jeep. Old wasn’t quite accurate. It wasn’t even out of warranty, but it had seen some four-wheeling, and had a road hard look about it with its scarred rims and dented quarter panel.
She whipped down the long winding driveway and turned onto the highway. If she pushed the limits, she could make up a few minutes and be on time. Someone once told her that early was on time, and on time was late. Though she always had a lot on her plate, respecting other people’s time was important.
Reaching to grab the lipstick in her purse, she swerved and slightly crossed over the line. The car coming her way laid on the horn and offered an unpleasant gesture. She overcorrected sending the Jeep into a fishtail and causing her heart to skip a beat at the near miss.
“No shade of red is worth dying over.” She took a few deep calming breaths, but her heartbeat jolted when she saw the flashing red lights in the rearview mirror.
“Not now.” She mentally counted her most recent ticket and wondered how many points she could lose on her license and still be allowed to drive. “How fast was I going?” she asked out loud. She looked down at the speedometer and realized she was traveling at close to twenty miles over the limit, and that was a six-point ticket. “I’m so screwed.”
She slowed down and pulled to the side of the road. A thousand thoughts went through her mind, but the loudest was, how can I get out of this mess?
In the mirror, she watched the officer in the cruiser behind her. She knew how this went. He’d sit there a few minutes and make her sweat. No doubt, he’d run the plates to be sure the car wasn’t stolen. She said a silent prayer hoping the registration was up to date.
As she waited for the officer to stroll to her window, she considered her options. She could cry, but the last time she did that, the officer handed her a Kleenex and a ticket.
She could undo another button on her blouse and try to woo him out of a citation, but most chickens had bigger breasts than she did.
She could say it was a bathroom emergency, but dysentery was no joking matter. When they’d been looking at a site in Mumbai, she experienced food poisoning. It was one of the reasons they didn’t take over the property. The restaurant had been closed down several times for health violations and a resort would never recover from having the reputation of making people sick. Nope, she wouldn’t lie about a bathroom issue.
She considered using humor, but the only police officer joke she knew was, What do you call it when a prisoner takes his own mug shot? A cellfie. That would probably get her thrown in jail for having criminally bad taste.
She could fake sick and say she was on her way home to rest, but if he looked at her driver’s license it would show an address in Breckinridge which was exactly the opposite direction she was heading.
Note to self … update the address on my license.
She could be honest.
She watched as the officer climbed out of his cruiser. He was tall, dark and deadly, or at least his expression was. This was going to be bad—really bad.
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Acknowledgments
There are so man
y people to thank including my wonderful husband Jim who is always there to lend his support.
A big shout out to Melanie Summers who is the sun on a dreary day and knows exactly what to say at the right moment. She also helps with my blurbs from time to time, and that always feels like a lottery win.
My editing team works endlessly to take what I send them, and they rub it to a sparkling finish. Brooke, Kasi, Janice, and Donna, I’m grateful for your help. If dangling participles were a true crime, I’d be serving a life sentence.
Big hugs to my mom Joyce Collins who reads all my books and cries during each one. She claims to be my biggest fan and I’d bet she is.
Thank you to the ARC readers in both Kelly Collins’ Book Nook and Kel’s Belle’s who are always up for a read. Many of you started as fans and have become friends.
Now to you my dear reader, thank you for taking your precious time to read my words. I hope you enjoyed the story.
Hugs,
Kelly
Need More Recipes for Love?
A Tablespoon of Temptation
A Pinch of Passion
A Dash of Desire
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About the Author
International bestselling author of more than thirty novels, Kelly Collins writes with the intention of keeping the love alive. Always a romantic, she blends real-life events with her vivid imagination to create characters and stories that lovers of contemporary romance, new adult, and romantic suspense will return to again and again.
Kelly lives in Colorado at the base of the Rocky Mountains with her husband of twenty-seven years, their two dogs, and a bird that hates her. She has three amazing children, whom she loves to pieces.
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A Tablespoon of Temptation (A Recipe for Love Novel Book 1) Page 20