by Lucy Kevin
Phoebe stopped what she was doing and turned to Julie with a smile.
“Rose suggested I should run the flowers by Mr. Kyle to check that I’m going in the right direction. So,” Phoebe asked, “what’s he like? I mean, I’ve seen him on TV, but who knows if celebrities are the same in real life.”
Julie pushed back an odd sense of disappointment at not getting to see Andrew alone. How could that even be what she wanted after their kiss the night before and the way she’d asked him to leave?
“Andrew is—” She hastily shut down more thoughts of their kiss as she tried to think of a diplomatic way to put it. “He has a very clear idea of what he wants for his brother’s wedding. Very clear.”
“I see,” Phoebe said, looking a little worried. “I heard that he was really picky when it came to the food. Sorry your first wedding couldn’t be an easier one.”
This time it was even harder for Julie to be diplomatic. She wanted to say, You don’t know the half of it. The thing was, not only would she sound like a complete jerk, but she wasn’t actually sure any of her preconceived notions about Andrew were true anymore.
“I’m sure you’ll do fine with him,” Julie said in what she hoped was a reassuring tone, before turning her attention to unwrapping and assembling her cake.
“Wow, Julie, it’s lovely. You must have gone to so much trouble. And all for a tasting.”
Just then, Andrew arrived. Julie had barely been able to sleep after their kiss, but he looked annoyingly well rested. And confident.
Right in line with his I’m not giving up and neither should you parting comment.
Opting for an uber-professional tone that couldn’t possibly give away their secret kiss to anyone who might be listening, Julie said, “Andrew, this is Phoebe who’ll be handling the flowers. Phoebe, meet Andrew.”
“Hello Phoebe,” Andrew said, extending a hand. “That is a lovely dress. And Julie, you’re looking great as always.”
The sudden compliment took Julie by surprise, but she tried not to show it as she led him through to the dining room. He made easy conversation with Phoebe, and the two seemed to hit it off, with Andrew telling her some anecdote about a minor starlet he used to cook for who was fanatical about having edible flowers on every dish.
Part of Julie wanted to reach out to Andrew and drag him back towards her, but she knew she couldn’t have it both ways; pushing him away in one moment, pulling him in at another.
I am not jealous of how well they’re getting along, Julie told herself. Even if Phoebe is gorgeous today, and Andrew is…well, Andrew.
The trouble was, it was hard to keep repeating that once they got into the dining room, and Andrew caught sight of the flowers.
“Phoebe, this is wonderful. The arrangements you’ve put together will be perfect for the wedding, thank you.”
But instead of simply accepting the compliments, Phoebe said, “I know how important your brother’s wedding is to you. I can change them if you’d like. It wouldn’t be a problem at all.”
Why was Phoebe fishing for compliments? She wasn’t attracted to Andrew, was she?
Julie worked to quickly shut that part of her brain down. Clearly, the reason Phoebe couldn’t believe Andrew might be nice about her arrangements was because she’d heard just how badly he’d ripped apart Julie’s menu.
Which brought them to the cake.
Phoebe was already beside it, telling Andrew how much work Julie had put in. She ignored that, focusing purely on Andrew as he circled it, examining it closely before cutting slices from each layer and trying them.
Come on, thought Julie, how long did it take to have an opinion on cake?
Finally, he turned to her and smiled a slow smile. One that brought both dimples to the fore.
“It’s great, Julie. Really great. It tastes good, and the decoration must have taken you quite a while. I like the idea of having the three different layers a lot. It’s inventive, while still being traditional.”
Julie could feel herself glowing at his praise. She shouldn’t care so much about what he thought, but the truth was, she did.
Phoebe offered to show Andrew out, but Julie practically shoved her out of the way. She waited until they were out in the parking lot, away from prying eyes, before she said anything.
“Andrew, I—”
“Come to my place for dinner tonight, Julie.”
“What?”
He took a scrap of paper out of his pocket, wrote an address on it, and pressed it into her palm.
“Say you’ll come. Please.”
“Andrew I…I don’t know where I stand anymore,” Julie admitted. “First I thought I hated you, and then I started to like you. But kissing you?” She shook her head. “I’m pretty certain I shouldn’t have kissed you back.”
“And I’m certain you should have.” His eyes softened as he slid the back of his hand gently across her cheek. “It felt right to me, Julie. Are you going to tell me it didn’t feel right to you, too?”
Oh God, it had been so right that it was all she could do to keep from kissing Andrew again right there. But Julie knew she couldn’t do that. Not in front of her workplace. And definitely not when he was still the man who’d held her future in his hands twice–once with her restaurant and now with the Rose Chalet.
Julie took a shaky step away from him and tried to still the butterflies twirling around in her belly.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to come over tonight, Andrew.”
He started to reach out for her again. “Julie, I know this is difficult for you, but—”
“I can’t, Andrew.” She took another step back, rather than launching herself into his strong arms the way she so desperately wanted to. “I want to, but I just can’t.”
“Take a risk, Julie.”
Julie shook her head at his softly worded urging. “I’m glad you liked the cake,” was all she could say. Julie watched him drive off a few moments later, his address still tucked into her hand.
Chapter Nine
“Come on, Andrew, how hard can it be to cook one meal?”
Andrew’s father sat at the dining room table, knife and fork already in hand like he might start banging them onto the wood if food wasn’t forthcoming. His father had gained a few pounds in his sixties, but he kept his hair dyed black, and his gaze was as steely as ever, perfect for convincing juries to vote his way.
Next to Andrew’s father was his mother, who had stopped counting her age sometime after she hit forty. Between her fitness routines, plenty of days at the spa, and the occasional touch of work from plastic surgeons, she didn’t look that much over it, either.
Then there were Phil and Nancy. Phil took after their father, more heavily built than Andrew, with the same piercing stare. He dressed with the expensive elegance a doctor with his own very successful practice could. Nancy was blonde and bubbly, but definitely no airhead, with plenty of success in PR to prove it. Andrew watched as she leaned in to kiss his brother.
At least somebody’s love life was going well.
“Come on, Andrew,” Phil said a few moments later, “isn’t dinner ready yet?”
“I’m just finishing the game hens now,” Andrew said, taking the birds out of the oven and starting work with the carving knife. “You’ll all just have to be patient.”
“Honestly,” his father said, “I don’t know why we couldn’t just have steaks. Throw them on the grill for ten minutes and bam! they’re done.”
The answer to that was perfectly simple. Andrew flatly refused to serve steaks as his father liked them, which was best described as ‘just this side of cremated.’
Besides, steaks wouldn’t have given Andrew the chance to show just what he could do with an oven. If putting up with a few complaints about the choice of dish was what that took, then so be it.
His mother’s brow almost wrinkled as she looked over the kitchen counter and said, “If you like, I could come give you a hand with—”
“It’s
fine, Mom,” Andrew said quickly. “Our meal is nearly ready.”
The sauce was bubbling away nicely, the potatoes were done, the vegetables were layered perfectly and all that remained was to get everything onto plates. A family meal done with all the skill Andrew possessed, just to make it that little bit more special.
Family. Such a simple word in theory, such a world of difficulty in practice.
How many times had he invited his family over for meals like this? Dozens? And how often had they come? As often as their busy schedules allowed, certainly, but not nearly as often as Andrew would have liked. Almost invariably, his father would point out that he had a big case, or Phil and Nancy would be busy with either work or a night out with their friends. They’d either cancel altogether or suggest some other date, then not understand when Andrew pointed out that his constant rounds of filming and cooking didn’t allow for that many breaks in his schedule, either.
As he plated up the meal, they began to get into a discussion of some big contract his father had worked on. That was fine, but it also meant that any minute now…
“You know, Andrew,” his father said, “my offer still stands. With contracts like this, we need everyone we can get, and I just know you’d be a phenomenal lawyer if you’d only put your mind to it.”
“I enjoy my career, Dad.”
“Or you could go off to medical school. It’s not too late, you know. You had the grades, so there’s no reason why you couldn’t eventually go into practice with your brother. Think what it would be like, two Kyles working side by side.”
Well versed in years of tuning his father out, Andrew let his brain drift as he put out the plates. Of course, it could drift in only one direction.
Julie.
Had kissing her been a mistake? Andrew didn’t want to think it had, but given her behavior at the Rose Chalet that afternoon, she didn’t exactly seem to be warming to the idea of dating him.
Andrew’s nature had always been to push for what he wanted, and out in the parking lot of the wedding venue, he’d wanted to kiss her again to show her exactly how good they could be together...and what she’d be missing out on if she refused to give into it.
But if he’d done that, he knew Julie would have run from him, figuratively if not literally, and that would have been that.
Still, Andrew wasn’t sure he could take much more waiting.
“Andrew,” his mother said, interrupting his train of thought, “your father was making a serious suggestion. Medical school would be good for you.”
Medical school would be a disaster for him, and Andrew had hoped that his family might see it by now. He wasn’t a doctor, he was a chef. He had his own life, and he loved it.
“Son—” his father began, but at that moment, the doorbell rang.
Eager to put off the inevitable argument a little longer, Andrew went for the door before anyone else could get up.
“Julie?”
The woman he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about looked stunning. She’d obviously gone home and changed, since she was now wearing a dark dress that did more to show off her gorgeous figure than the clothes she wore for work ever could.
Andrew’s eyes lingered on her, appreciating every detail. Her makeup was just a fraction more than she wore during the day too, he noted, while he caught the faintest scent of perfume standing this close to her.
He wanted to pull her into another kiss, then and there. Instead, he said, “I didn’t think you were going to come.”
“I almost didn’t,” Julie admitted. “I’m still not sure that—” She finally noticed they weren’t alone. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Andrew, who are these people?”
“My family,” Andrew explained.
Julie’s eyes widened and he knew that if he didn’t think fast, she would be back out the door in a matter of seconds.
He put a hand lightly on her arm. “Please stay. I haven’t had the chance to cook for you yet. And I’m so glad you’re here.”
Julie hesitated for a second or two, but then she smiled faintly. “Only if I get to make scathing comments about your cooking, too,”
Andrew guessed he deserved that. “If you think it deserves it, yes. Just as long as you stay long enough to taste it.”
Another hesitation, but then Julie nodded. He reached out to take Julie’s coat.
“I’d like you all to meet Julie Delgado,” Andrew said, as he introduced everyone. Knowing it was all going to come out soon, he said, “She’s the chef who will be putting together the dinner at the wedding.”
“Really?” Andrew’s mother said. “Have you finalized the menu, then?”
Julie flushed lightly, but held her ground. “We’re still working out the finer details. But I can promise you,” she said with a smile at Phil and Nancy, “it’s going to be absolutely perfect.”
Andrew couldn’t help noticing that no one asked her for details of being a chef at the Rose Chalet any more than they cared about the details of what he did for a living. It was almost nice to know it wasn’t just him.
Almost.
Andrew set out another place for Julie and then served the meal. His father and brother ate the way they always had, shoveling down food with hardly enough time to taste it. Nancy and his mother both picked at their food, meaning that his mother was probably on another of her diets, while Nancy was probably determined not to gain so much as a pound in advance of the wedding.
Julie, meanwhile, ate with the gusto–and appreciation–that Andrew had loved in her when he’d taken her to The Glass Square. She shut her eyes for the first couple of mouthfuls, obviously savoring the full taste of everything Andrew had put on the plate.
“This is amazing.” She looked up at Andrew. “Seriously, I think this is the best home cooked meal I’ve ever had.”
“Oh, don’t encourage him,” Phil told her. “At this rate, we’ll never persuade him to give up this thing he has about cooking and get a real job.”
His parents and Nancy all laughed along with that, but Julie just looked confused.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“The boys have been trying to persuade Andrew to finally make the switch to medicine,” his mother supplied. “If he doesn’t do something soon, he’ll be at it too late to reach the top of his profession.”
Andrew saw Julie’s frown deepen, and he tried to signal to her that it was all perfectly normal behavior from his family and just to ignore it, but she was already saying: “He’s already done that.”
“Oh, you mean with the cooking?” his father said. “That doesn’t help anyone.”
Andrew’s mother looked over at him. “I’m sorry, dear, but it has to be said. I know you’re having a good time in the kitchen, but just think of all those people you could be helping if you went back to school. You could be doing something the world really needs.”
Andrew bit back a sharp response, but Julie didn’t bother.
“I was under the impression that the world needed to be fed.” She looked over at Nancy and Phil. “Like at your wedding, for example. Andrew’s going to a lot of trouble over it.”
“And we’re very grateful,” Nancy replied.
“It’s great,” Phil agreed, “but a bit of cooking here and there can’t take up that much time. It isn’t brain surgery, after all.”
“Are you kidding?” Julie looked at each of his family members with clear shock–and dismay–written on her pretty face. “Cooking, and cooking well, is hours of work. Not just with putting together the food, but the planning. And as for free time, Andrew has been running back and forth between sorting out your wedding arrangements and the filming for his new show, as well as putting in a couple of nights a week in a high-end restaurant with extremely exacting standards. I don’t know if you can understand how much work that is, but I certainly wouldn’t be able to juggle that much.”
For a moment, just a moment, Phil looked a little ashamed. In Andrew’s experience, he didn’t look that
way very often.
“Really, bro, Nancy and I are very happy you agreed to do this.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Andrew said.
“Even so,” his father began, “we do worry about you. Only because we care. What are you going to do when all this comes to an end?”
Julie shook her head with a smile that suggested to Andrew she would laugh if it wouldn’t be too impolite. “I expect he’ll invest the money he’s made by being incredibly good at what he does and buy an island somewhere with the interest. Mr. Kyle, trust me, you don’t have anything to worry about. In fact, you should be proud of your son. Particularly when he’s just made you a meal that’s better than anything I’ve tasted in a long while.”
Julie left it at that and, surprisingly, instead of blowing up at her for daring to speak to them like that, Andrew got the sense his family respected the way his beautiful guest had refused to back down.
Throughout the rest of the meal, Andrew couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. Nor could he help noticing the way the others took fresh bites from their plates, eating much more slowly, tasting it properly this time. He doubted it would last, but for now, at least, no one made any more comments about his chosen profession. Instead, they made a few remarks about how good the food was.
A short while later, they all stood up to leave, but for once, Andrew wasn’t eager to get rid of them. Amazingly, his mother pulled him close and told him that he could do a lot worse. Of course, he’d known that already, had known it the minute he set eyes on Julie Delgado.
“So,” he said, turning back to Julie when everyone else had gone, “would you like some dessert?”
Chapter Ten
“I didn’t think you’d come,” Andrew said as Julie started to help with the dessert.
“You didn’t think I would? Until I actually made it to the door, I wasn’t too sure I would. I actually spent five minutes outside thinking I should just turn around, run for home, and pretend you didn’t exist.”
Andrew smiled at her honesty. “I’m glad you didn’t do that. And I’m glad you agreed to join my family for dinner.”