“He threatened to fire me.”
“You know your job is secure, right?”
Working with Jerry was no easy feat, and he preferred a man to bend him every which way, as he put it. Cindy accepted his grumbles and complaints with ease.
“I raised four girls who seemed to tag team each other during their menstrual cycle. One was always in PMS mode. I never caught a break until my youngest moved out. Thirty years of raising kids and my job still isn’t over. I don’t think Jerry can say or do anything my own kids haven’t tried.”
“If you need me to come home, I can. I’m just down the road.”
“No. Jerry wanted me to ask you to bring home a bottle of Lobster Red. He said it was spaghetti night, and a bottle of red would be needed after my manhandling.”
“Consider it done. Call back if you need me to come home.”
“We’re good. Have fun.”
Jenna hung up with a chuckle and pocketed her phone again.
“Is Jerry okay?” Alexis asked when she returned to the tasting room.
“He’s fine. Wants me to bring home a bottle of Lobster Red.” Her smile stayed on her face until a man by the door turned toward her, bringing back memories she’d buried long ago.
“Jerry? Who’s Jerry?”
CHAPTER THREE
Tristan. She knew she’d run into him someday. But she didn’t think it would feel like a knife to her gut when she saw him again.
Oblivious of the tension between them, Alexis did the polite introductions. “Tristan, this is—”
“Jenna,” he finished for her.
She didn’t know where to look. In Tristan’s hazel eyes or at Alexis? Would her friend be intuitive enough to see the shock, the fear, the anger in Jenna’s eyes? Her other friends would for sure, but Alexis wasn’t like that. Hoping she hadn’t picked up on the skill over the past few years, she cast a quick glance at Alexis before pretending to look at Tristan.
Staring over his shoulder and focusing on the door behind him, she forced a smile. “Tristan. Nice to see you again.” Acting like he didn’t mean anything to her, she took in a giant gulp of air and focused her attention on Ben who stood behind the bar. “I’m afraid I’ll forget later, so can you ring me up for a bottle of Lobster Red?”
“Sure. I need to grab another case from the barn while Tristan sets up. You two know each other?” Ben arranged the opened wine bottles and set four on the counter.
“We went to school together.” She lifted her right shoulder as if it was no big deal.
When Ben moved toward the door, Alexis leaped in front of him. “Jenna and I will grab the wine. Why don’t you help Tristan set up?”
Jenna opened her mouth to argue, but Alexis lifted her eyebrow as if warning her to be quiet. When they were outside and near the barn, her intuitive friend blocked her from going inside.
“You know I’m not one to pry, but you’re going to have to tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” She scrunched her face as if confused and glanced around for a distraction. Where was Hemmy when she needed him?
Maybe she could trip and fall and pretend to twist her ankle. Anything to avoid having to see Tristan again. There were too many buried emotions, too much anger and hurt built inside of her to pretend they were nothing more than casual acquaintances.
The burning in her chest only got hotter as they reached the barn.
“Please. I may be new to this love and romance thing, but the way Tristan was staring at you, and the way you worked so hard to avoid eye contact with him tells me there’s more to your history than passing notes in front of the lockers.”
“And we were all led to believe Grace had inherited all the drama in the family.” Jenna ran her hand through her infinity scarf at her neck, doing her best to appear teasing and nonchalant about the turmoil happening in her stomach.
“Really? There’s no story between the two of you? I guess I’m not as good at this fishing thing as the rest of the group.” Alexis opened the barn door and crossed the space to the storage area where the bottles of red were housed.
The look of defeat on her friend’s face was too much to bear. Besides, it would feel good to have someone to talk to. She’d been friends with Hope and Mia for a few years now, and she had met Alexis when she joined the book club, but she’d yet to bare her heart and soul to anyone.
Alexis sold some of Jenna’s pottery and paintings in the tasting room with the rest of the Maine made products. Over the past year, since she married Ben and started coming to the book club nights, their friendship had developed into something more, despite her deeply-rooted jealousy.
“Any special requests for you?” Alexis lifted a case of Lobster Red.
Needing to confide in a friend, and feeling bad about making Alexis second-guess her observations, she caved. “You were right.”
“About what?”
So maybe Alexis wasn’t festering over being wrong in her observations.
“Tristan and I were more than classmates.”
“Really.” Alexis set the box on a nearby stool and crossed her arms. “Do tell.” Jenna’s face must have revealed the heartache, and Alexis softened. “I’m kidding. You don’t need to tell me anything if you don’t want to. I’m sorry to pry.”
“Actually, I’d like to talk to you about it. About him.”
“You dated. Things didn’t work out. I’m not exactly the best one to offer relationship advice, or to lean on in times like this. I’m totally inexperienced.”
“He’s my ex-husband.”
“Oh.” Alexis’ eyes grew wide with shock and then softened. “Oh.”
Jenna chewed on her thumbnail. “I won’t go into the details, but the divorce ... it was hard.”
“I’m sure.” Alexis stepped closer and stretched her arms out in an awkward hug.
It was no secret she wasn’t the touchy-feely, huggy, emotional type. Jenna hugged her back and squeezed extra tight. One did not walk away or take for granted a hug from Alexis.
When they broke apart, Jenna stepped back, toying with her scarf again. “Do you think ... maybe tonight after Jerry goes to bed and Sophie’s tucked in that you could ... maybe...”
“Do you want me to come by the house?”
“Yeah.”
“In a heartbeat, Jenna. You say when and where. I’m so sorry for stirring up memories of the past. If you want to go home now, I can tell Ben and Tristan you weren’t feeling well.”
“No.” Jenna shook her head. “I have a new life now. Tristan is just a ... a piece of my past.”
“We still have other caterers to interview. This doesn’t mean we’re going to hire him for the wine pairing events.”
“Yesterday you told us his reviews and referrals were the best in the state. Don’t not hire him because of me. Let’s sample his food. If you and Ben think he’s a good match for your wine, then hire him. I’ll be fine.”
“Jenna.”
“Seriously. Now let’s get back before he thinks I’ve chickened out and gone home.”
Mustering up all the courage she could find, Jenna lifted the case of wine. By the time they got back to the tasting room, Tristan had an array of appetizers spread across the counter.
“Finally. This is killing me smelling all this food and not eating it.” Ben took the case of wine from her hands. “You should hear what Tristan has come up with for theme nights.”
“I can’t wait.”
She took a seat at the end of the bar and breathed a sigh of relief when Alexis sat next to her.
“Why don’t you tell us about each theme, and Alexis and I will pick out a pairing.”
“Sure.” Tristan moved behind the bar and set a plate in front of each of them. “The first pairing suggestion is meatballs.”
“Ben’s Italian. I doubt what you come up with can compete with his family’s cooking.” Jenna bit down on her lip and sat on her hands. She hadn’t meant to sound so snarky. He
ck, she hadn’t meant to even speak to Tristan. And it wasn’t like she knew too much about Ben or his family’s cooking.
“I’m taking the nontraditional approach here,” he said politely, not calling Jenna on her attitude. “This is a simple Thai chili sauce.” He squirted a red sauce on each of their plates then set a meatball on top of it. “And an orange-sesame pork meatball.”
She waited for Ben and Alexis to pick up their forks and taste Tristan’s cooking. He wasn’t amazing when they were married, but he didn’t suck at it either. If anything, he persevered through all his failed attempts.
One thing was for sure—she never went hungry. Jenna never knew what to expect when she got home from work, whether it was six o’clock or midnight; if Tristan was home, there was food waiting for her.
From homemade pasta to jambalaya to egg rolls, he liked to experiment with every ethnicity. Following a recipe wasn’t his strong suit, but once he learned how to cook a basic dish, he experimented over and over again by adding his own twist.
Jenna had purposely not followed his career and knew nothing of the past seven years of his life, but according to Alexis’ rave reviews yesterday at Books by the Ocean, Tristan and his Fresh Ketch catering service were nothing but first class.
First class and they were eating meatballs. Not wanting to embarrass her friends, she picked up her fork and cut into the meatball. It was firm yet delicate, and she slid it through the chili sauce before bringing the sample to her lips.
“This is amazing,” Alexis exclaimed.
“Different,” Ben added.
They were both right. The flavor wasn’t what she had expected in a meatball. It wasn’t savory like the traditional ones she ate with her red sauce. Instead, there was a sweetness and lightness to the pork with an undercurrent of spice. Nothing too overpowering.
Like a cross between Italian and Chinese. It was ... unique.
“This needs a crisp, sweet wine. I’m thinking Hidden Vine.”
“Good call.” Ben got up and joined Tristan behind the bar. “Let’s give it a whirl.” He poured a sample in each of their glasses.
“You should try them together too, Tristan,” Alexis said.
Jenna remained quiet while she sampled the other two meatballs. One, a shitake mushroom with some sort of fancy steak sauce, and the last a traditional meatball that tasted so unique and fresh she almost asked Tristan for the recipe.
Instead, she ate, sipped, ate and sipped. Pairing wines with the meatballs was relatively easy. It was the fish samples where Alexis asked for her input.
“What do you think about the ginger and lemon tuna?” Tristan asked her.
Did he ask because he too remembered how many tuna noodle casseroles they ate when they were married?
It was their special Monday night dinner when they both didn’t have to work. They’d make the classic recipe with egg noodles, cream of mushroom from a can, as well as canned tuna. Then they’d crumble up Ritz crackers and bake it in the oven, feeling like a grown-up married couple when they were really young twenty-year-olds trying to fit into a world too big for them.
“It’s good.” She sipped the dry white wine Ben had set in front of her.
“Which white do you like best with it?” Ben asked both Jenna and Tristan.
They each took their glass and sipped. Still avoiding the man across from her, she swiveled sideways and directed her attention toward Ben. “You can’t go wrong with either one, but since the fish is so ... full of flavor, I’d keep the wine simple.”
Alexis agreed, and Jenna sat back as the wine professionals jotted down notes. They continued in the pattern. Tristan setting before them three themed foods. Tuna, haddock, and salmon. Lobster, scallops, and shrimp. Teriyaki, barbecue, and lemon garlic chicken. Then finally the desserts.
Even though the samples were just bites, with all the food and the sips of wine, Jenna’s belly was full and her head swimming.
“Depending on your preference, we could offer a chocolate pairing, or we could have more variety with different flavors.”
“I like variety,” Alexis said. “What about you, Jenna?”
“I agree. It’s rare, but there are those who don’t care for chocolate. Maybe seasonal flavors? Pumpkin and apple in the fall. Peppermint during Christmas. Lemon in the spring.”
“Great idea. Oh. And blueberries in the summer.” A wicked smirk encroached, and Alexis winked at Jenna. “When you and Carter go out tomorrow night, you should mention this. Maybe he could offer Tristan blueberries and apples at cost, and we’d highlight them in our advertising.”
At first Jenna was confused. His brother Brady was the one who ran the blueberry farm. Carter was more the hired help. She cast a glance at Tristan and noticed the twitch in his lower lip.
Oh. God bless Alexis. “I’ll ask him,” she said as nonchalantly, which had become her tone of the day.
“You and Carter—” Ben stopped when Alexis kicked him—not so subtly—in the shins.
“Think you can handle what Jenna is suggesting?” Dear friend Alexis swirled the last trace of wine in her glass.
“Great minds. That’s exactly what I was going to suggest.” Tristan dipped behind the counter, opened something, and resurfaced with a fancy glass container. “I brought quite a few desserts. Instead of making three samples of each, I brought a generous slice of the cakes, pies, and cheesecakes I have on my menu.”
He rattled on about a lemon raspberry mousse, a chocolate almond coconut cream pie, a fancy ginger spin on the classic pumpkin pie and so many more. Jenna was in sugar heaven and resisted the urge to scoop up a forkful of every delectable delight in front of her.
“Impressive,” she heard Alexis say.
For the next twenty minutes, they tasted each treat and sampled different pairings until Ben and Alexis were pleased with the match up.
“I didn’t know you were a wine connoisseur too.” Tristan rested his hip against the counter and pointed to her empty wine glass.
You don’t know me at all anymore, is what she wanted to say. Instead, she went with polite. “I’m not, really. Alexis asked me to join her because we’re friends and because I represent the average person.”
“I’d hardly call you average.”
Why, oh why did his deep baritone have to have the same effect on her as it did when they were young and in love? Tristan could say the most bland, boring statement, but the cadence of his voice made it sound deeply poetic and even ... erotic.
Instead of arguing against his logic, because she was exactly that—average—she ignored his backdoor compliment and took the high road. Not that he’d been traveling the low road. Tristan had been nothing but polite and respectful, not asking her anything other than her opinions on his food.
“It seems you’ve done well for yourself. Congratulations on your success.”
“Thank you. And what have you been up to for the past seven-and-a-half years?”
Not years in the generic term, but seven-and-a-half as if he’d been keeping track. Seeing Alexis and Ben still engrossed in their lists and laptop writing down suggestions and themed pairings, she returned her attention to Tristan.
“I’m a caretaker now.”
“Really?” He rested his elbows on the counter and targeted his hypnotic hazel eyes toward her. “Do you still work on your art? You were very talented.”
“You bet your ass she is,” Alexis barked from her side, snapping Jenna out of her trance. Again. “There’s always a line at her table during our craft fairs and community days, and people buy her work nearly as much as any of the other Maine made products in here. She’s a hot seller.”
Okay, Alexis didn’t need to lay it on so thick, but Jenna appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.
“Really?” Tristan came out from behind the counter and walked in the direction Alexis had pointed to. “I’d love to see your stuff.”
For some reason having him inspect her work gave her the nervous willies. She watched as he pic
ked up a bowl and turned it in his hand.
“This is nice.”
She’d improved her craft since he’d last seen her work. Her best sellers were her small dishes and platters. Alexis and Ben had them arranged beautifully on an old hickory hutch. During busy weekends they used her bowls for dips and her trays for cheese and crackers.
While Jenna loved making the bigger pieces like bowls and vases, they weren’t as popular as the serving dishes.
“Thanks.” She clasped her fingers behind her back and watched as he skimmed his fingers across her pottery. He carefully set one piece down before picking up another. He still did that quirky thing with his tongue and lips when he was deep in thought. His lips pursed together and stuck out almost duck-like while he ran his tongue across his teeth.
He should have looked ridiculous, but the intensity of his eyes and the oblivion to how silly his face contorted always made her chuckle.
Used to make her chuckle. Now she worried what he was thinking. Picking up three four-inch square blue plates and the matching six-inch rectangle platter, he turned to her.
“Do you have more of these?”
“I think so.” Jerry had let her turn the barn into her art studio. It was where she spent most of her evenings after he went to bed. She didn’t have a huge supply of product, but there were a few sets of plates and tumblers, if she remembered correctly.
“Good.” He carried them to the counter. “Whether you hire Fresh Ketch or not, I suggest you use Jenna’s—the pottery you sell instead of your caterer’s dishes. It’s a great selling point, and it supports your local business.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t think of that.” Alexis lightly punched Ben’s shoulder.
“I would have. Good idea, Tristan.” Ben tapped the stack of plates. “Think you could bring by a few more serving sets?” he asked Jenna.
“I guess. How many are you talking?” It wasn’t like she had a busy schedule. Normally she painted during Jerry’s appointments. Easier and quicker setup and clean up. When she worked on her pottery she needed a bigger block of time, which was hard to come by. She supposed she could work into the wee hours of the morning.
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