Either way, things were looking up for him.
Tristan took his time setting up his trays, keeping most of the food in his portable food warmer.
At six o’clock, the customers—or were they samplers?—started coming in. They sat eight people at the bar, and Alexis motioned for him to start his spiel.
“The first sample is a simple veggie quiche.” He set one on each of the plates. Jenna’s plates, no doubt. “The filling is a combination of mushrooms, bacon, egg, cheese and zucchini from Patterson’s Farm down the road.” He mentioned the local dairy farmer and the farm stand where he picked up the eggs as well.
He continued on listing the fresh herbs and spices that were mixed in. His shoulders relaxed in appreciation as he watched one customer cut delicately into the mini quiche with her fork, appreciating the flakiness of the crust. While baking wasn’t his forte`, he did enjoy coming up with creative desserts. It took him a while to perfect his pie crust recipe and technique.
Stepping back so Alexis could go over the pairing of wine, Tristan watched for cues of pleasure or dislike as the crew ate the quiche. For the most part, their nods and comments were positive.
“I can’t stand mushrooms,” one guy at the end muttered.
That was okay. Tristan appreciated people’s likes and dislikes. He even had his share of food he didn’t care for. Pineapple being his absolute least favorite food in the world.
He interrupted Alexis, hoping she wouldn’t mind. “You’ll like the second sample better.” Addressing the other seven, he continued. “I find that if you bite, sip, bite, sip, you get the most flavor from both the food and the wine.” He stepped back, showing Alexis respect and letting her have the floor again.
The tart went over well, as had the tapenade. Two couples bought the white wine, and another bought all three bottles. None took his brochure, but the two women in the middle asked what restaurant he worked at. They let out a sigh of disappointment when he told them he only catered events.
There was a lull in between customers, and Tristan used that time to bring the dishes to the back room and wash them. Every time the bell above the door jangled his heart sped up and his stomach clenched. It was stupid of him to think Jenna would come by, but he couldn’t convince his organs to chill.
“You don’t have to do that.” Ben joined him at the sink, taking a plate from him.
“I’m not good at being idle. If I have down time I’m usually in the kitchen experimenting.”
At the sound of the bell, Tristan turned off the faucet and dried his hands on the towel at his waist, internally scolding his chest for allowing his heart to thump so fast.
“Ready for round two?” Yup. Totally chill.
“As long as I can have another of those tart things. They were pretty good. I might even be able to get my daughter to eat her vegetables this way.”
“I’ll leave you with any leftovers then.”
They went out to the tasting room where Alexis was chatting away with a group of women. He noticed all too quickly none had a thick mane of dark hair. Tristan stepped around them and waited for Ben and Alexis to signal the start of another pairing.
They’d talked about having set times in the future. On the quarter hours, but for the first time they figured they’d wing it.
He did his best to blend into the background behind the bar while the Martellis introduced themselves to newcomers and hugged their friends.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” the tall blonde said, hugging Alexis.
“We can find someone for you.”
“So late? I doubt it.” The blonde hung her purse on the back of the stool before falling into it, dropping her head to the bar-top.
“I’ve got connections.” Alexis came around to his side of the bar and patted the blonde’s arm.
Another woman joined the blonde, draping her arm around her. “Worst case, I’ve got you covered. The Happy Clam isn’t exactly five star, but we have good food.”
“I don’t want five-star. I want casual, tasty, and delicious.”
“We’ve had nearly twenty different caterers here. I’m sure one of them can squeeze you in.” Alexis squeezed her friend’s hand and poured her a glass of wine.
“I know. You gave me the list last winter, and I called them all. Ty and I narrowed it down to five, and only two of them were available.”
“So call the other one,” the brunette suggested.
“I did. She’s booked.”
“Well then. It’s settled. The Happy Clam will cater your wedding.”
Tristan had heard of the local restaurant. Family style specializing in fresh seafood and home-style cooking. Nice for a backyard wedding in the summer, maybe. But an elegant fall wedding at Coastal Vines? Not so much.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation.”
The blonde picked her head up, her green eyes sad and wary. “That’s okay. I’m a blubbering mess. Sorry to kill the mood here. You must be the chef from Fresh Ketch.”
“Tristan Ketch.” He held out his hand, and she shook it. “First, congratulations on your upcoming wedding.”
“Thanks.” A glimmer of a smile appeared on her pretty face.
“If you don’t mind me asking, when is the big day?” His Saturdays were booked solid for the next thirteen months, but maybe he could call in some favors from other chefs in the region.
“Two weeks from Sunday.”
“Afternoon or night?”
“Three o’clock,” she said with a sigh.
That could give him enough time. He’d need to hire additional servers, but if he pulled an all-nighter, he could manage.
“I realize you haven’t sampled my cooking yet or seen my menu, but I’d be more than happy to cater your wedding for you.”
“You what? You would?”
“My Sundays are relatively free until December.” He kept them free as a recovery and shopping day from his Friday night, Saturday afternoon, and Saturday night events. Filling his weekend calendar was not a problem.
“I appreciate it,” she said with a slump, “but we already researched you. You’re a little out of our price range. No offense.”
“None taken.” Tristan didn’t know why he was bending over backward for the stranger; he told himself it had nothing to do with the possibility that she was friends with Jenna. “Do you have time to meet tomorrow? I can take a peek at the menu and price range you established with your other caterer, and I’ll do my best to match it.”
“Are you kidding? Oh my God! I want to hug you!” She jumped out of her seat and ran behind the bar and did just that. “Ty is going to be so excited.”
“My brother doesn’t care as long as he has food to eat,” the newcomer said from behind the Happy Clam owner.
“He does too. Oh. I’m Lily, by the way.” She stepped back and held out her hand. “Sorry for accosting you, but you made my day.”
“Saves you from fried fish and mac n’ cheese.”
“Hope. I’m sorry.” Lily scurried to her friend and hugged her. “I’m a wreck. I didn’t mean to offend you either. I don’t want you cooking for my wedding because I need you standing in that gazebo with me.”
“There’s no place I’d rather be.”
Tristan watched as the trio hugged each other. From his side, he heard Alexis speak to him under his breath. “This better not be some elaborate scheme to get to Jenna.”
“Just helping out a friend of the Martellis.” He smiled and slid past her, making his way to the quiche.
Over the next hour and a half, there were three more rounds of customers. All were happy and full of compliments. When the last of them left, as did Ben to check on his daughter, Alexis dropped a cleaning rag on the bar and crossed her arms.
“I didn’t want to be the one to rain on Lily’s parade, but you really should have checked with me before offering to cater her wedding.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know it had anyt
hing to do with you.” Tristan grimaced and rubbed his palms into his eyes. “That came out rude. I meant no disrespect.”
“You sure about that?” Alexis crossed her arms tighter and narrowed her eyes at him. He’d never quite seen the protective mother bear look as he saw on her face. His mother had mastered the art of laying on the guilt and the poor me pout. Maybe if she’d been more protective—for good reasons—his life would have turned out differently.
Tristan untied the apron around his waist and folded it, setting it on the counter. “I assume Jenna has told you about our past.” Alexis cocked an eyebrow but didn’t respond. “To be honest—”
“Honesty is the only way we’re going to have a working relationship.”
“Absolutely. I’m not a liar. I’m not a thief. I’m not a cheat. And I’m not abusive in any way. I have enough references, personal and professional, who will say the same.”
Something changed in Alexis’ face. As if he’d debunked her assumption of him. So maybe Jenna hadn’t laid out the entire story. He respected her privacy enough to not provide any details.
“I won’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind that I’d run into Jenna again. You’re friends with her, and I was ... I was hoping she’d stop in tonight for the tasting.”
“Is that why you took this job?”
“No.” Tristan shook his head and moved to the other side of the counter, sliding a stool out, and taking a seat. Maybe sitting would make him appear less imposing on Alexis. He had to have nearly a foot on her, and he didn’t want to come off as threatening or domineering. “Honestly, I didn’t know she even lived in Crystal Cove until she walked into the tasting room a few weeks ago.”
Since then he’d done some extensive researching. There wasn’t a lot to find about her. No social media accounts under their married name, which he already knew. He’d kept an eye out over the years. And no accounts under her maiden name either. He did find a Facebook page for her pottery and paintings. He had been tempted to Like it but didn’t want her to think he was stalking her.
“She’s a bridesmaid in Lily’s wedding.”
“Oh.” He figured she’d be there. But standing up front, wearing a fancy dress as her friend said her vows? That could be awkward.
Not that he’d see the ceremony; he’d be in the kitchen or function hall setting up for the early dinner.
Disturbing her life hadn’t ever been his plan. Heck, once she gave him the final boot, having anything to do with Jenna again had stopped being a plan.
“I can call in some favors. See if I can find another caterer for Lily.”
Alexis glared at him and scratched her chin. “Lily seemed really excited to have you cater. And you already know you’re the best in the area. Hell, probably in the state.”
She leaned her elbow on the bar and pointed her finger at him. “I’ll let you do this.”
Let? The woman was ballsy, that was for sure. And Tristan was grateful Jenna had her on her side.
“But I’m giving Jenna a heads-up. If she has a problem with you being there, you’ll find someone else. If she says it’s okay, which she probably will because she wouldn’t want to ruin anything for Lily, then you stay in the background. I don’t want you stirring up trouble for her. Understood?”
“Understood.” The last thing he wanted was to stir up trouble for Jenna. Yet it was inevitable. Just him being in the vicinity was enough to bring a cloud of sadness over her life again. He saw the veil drop the second she recognized him.
Once again Tristan was the bearer of bad news. The one who brought tears and sadness to the one he loved.
Some day he wanted to be the bearer of smiles and laughter.
Only that day would never come. He killed any chance when he crashed into Jenna’s car, sending her and their baby to the hospital.
And only one of them came home.
CHAPTER NINE
“You’re kidding, right?” Jenna drummed her nails, or rather the tips of her fingers on the table in Jerry’s kitchen.
“I told him I was going to talk with you, and if you had a problem with it, he’d have to find a replacement.” Alexis swirled her tea bag in her mug and pressed her lips together.
Not wanting to take a trip down memory lane, Jenna jumped up and paced the open kitchen. She ran her hands over her face and behind her neck before clasping them in front of her.
“I can tell having Tristan at Lily’s wedding will be too hard on you. I’ll call him and tell him to—”
“No.” Jenna closed her eyes and tilted her head back. She couldn’t do this to Lily. The woman was as sweet as an angel and didn’t deserve to have extra stress and anxiety two weeks before her wedding. “I can deal.”
“No one wants you to deal.”
“Does everyone know?” She returned to her seat and wrapped her hands around her mug of tea.
“No. I haven’t talked to Lily about it. She came in last night so down, and then when Tristan ... anyway, she’s fine as long as she has a caterer. Like I said, I made him promise to find a replacement if you weren’t okay with this.”
She sipped from her mug, the blueberry green tea tasting bitter this morning. It wasn’t Tristan’s responsibility to find someone on such short notice. The issue here was with her and no one else.
Besides, it wasn’t like he’d be at the wedding. He’d be behind the scenes prepping the meal, right? She looked up from her tea and read the questions in her friend’s eyes. Alexis wanted to know the story between her and Tristan.
Part of her wanted to tell Alexis, heck, tell them all. It would be nice to confide in friends, to find solace with them. But she didn’t want to dredge up buried pain either. Granted, now that Tristan had shown up in her life, the memories and suffering she’d buried eight years ago had resurfaced.
“It’s Lily’s special day.”
Jenna would never forget her wedding day. Only nineteen-years-old and blinded by love. They had a casual backyard wedding at her parents’ house with a few of their extended family members who lived nearby, and a handful of friends from high school.
At the time, Jenna hadn’t cared who showed up as long as Tristan was at the end of the aisle waiting for her. And he was. Dapper in his rented tux, with a goofy gigantic grin on his face.
As she drew closer, she’d noticed the tears welling up in his eyes as he took in her simple white gown. She and her mother found it on the clearance rack. The beading in the band around her waist was the only bit of decoration that turned the gown from a white summer dress to wedding attire.
That and the veil she’d insisted upon. It was long and trailed behind her on the grass as she made her way to the love of her life.
“Wedding day or not, she wouldn’t want to see you hurting,” Alexis said, snapping Jenna from her failed trip down the aisle.
“I won’t be.” She ignored Alexis’ raised eyebrow. “It would only hurt if I still had feelings for him. Which I don’t.” Jenna looked her in the eye, working overtime to make Alexis believe the truth behind her words.
They were true. Mostly. She didn’t currently have any feelings for Tristan. Had his presence caused a stir in her, a longing for what could have been? Of course. A visit from a former love would do the same for anyone.
Alexis nodded. “Okay. I won’t say anything to Lily.”
Internally sighing in relief, Jenna swallowed and nodded. “It wouldn’t be fair to her. I’m fine.” She swatted her hand through the air in nonchalance. “We were high school sweethearts and made the mistake of marrying too young. I mean, he was barely drinking age, and I had a few years to go. We toasted with ginger ale instead of champagne. We were doomed from the beginning.”
Only it wasn’t their age that had destroyed their marriage.
BY THE END OF THE WEEK, Jerry had convinced his doctors to allow him to return home. After Jenna had met with his medical team and they’d met with the slew of nurses and specialists who would be making the daily home visits, Jerry was re
leased.
“There’s nothing like coming home after being away on a trip,” Jerry said with an air of nostalgia as she pushed his wheelchair up the ramp leading to the side door.
“I’m sorry it wasn’t sandy beaches and fruity drinks with umbrellas in them that you’re returning from.” She unlocked the door and pushed it open with her hip.
“Returning from Hell makes home that much sweeter.”
“Was it really hell for you?” She put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. If the nursing staff had made him suffer, she would file an official complaint and make the trip to Maine Medical Center in Portland.
He patted Jenna’s hand. “Being away from home is always hell. I miss Brigitte. I told her I’d return quickly.”
No. Did he mean her spirit in the house or that he was ready to leave earth and join her in Heaven? Selfishly she wanted Jerry to live for as long as possible. However, she knew his time was coming to an end. He seemed at peace with it, knowing his loving wife would be waiting for him on the other end of the rainbow.
“It sure was lonely here without you.” Jenna parked him in front of the television like he’d asked only a hundred times in the car on the way home and scrolled to the recordings of his soap opera.
“Can you believe they let me sleep through the show? I told that pretty nurse ten times a day to make sure my show was on. Where’s the loyalty in young people these days?”
She laughed, taking no offense. Jerry could come off crotchety if you didn’t know him. “Unbelievable.” Jenna fixed the volume and pressed play. “You have ten episodes to watch. This will keep you busy for the next few days.”
“Few days? I was in that miserable prison for two weeks. I’m gonna pull an all-nighter until I know what’s behind all the trouble in Port Charles.”
Jenna left him to his show while she made him a protein shake. When she returned a bit later, she couldn’t help but snort and shake her head. The poor man’s head had lopped forward in what had to be an extremely uncomfortable position, and a low snore escaped his lips.
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