Ivy elbowed her friend. “But then, once they heard my awesome idea, our parents all agreed that we could live here with you.”
“Why would your parents agree to that?” Dani asked. Although she wasn’t ready to admit it quite yet, Ivy had a good point. The upkeep on the mansion was beyond Dani’s means, and she hated the idea of operating a B and B where people were continually checking in and out.
Ivy scooted over and laid her head on Dani’s leg, crooning, “They said if you agreed to keep an eye on us, then it wou—”
“Whoa.” Dani jerked away, causing Ivy’s head to bounce off the settee’s cushion. “I can’t take that kind of responsibility.”
“All you have to do is enforce the ‘no booze, drugs, or guys upstairs’ rule,” Tippi wheedled. “And we are totally cool with that.”
“We know you could use the money for your new business,” Starr coaxed. “We could even pitch in as grunt labor when you needed us.”
Starr was right. Dani could definitely use the cash. After turning down several offers for various HR positions, she had finally admitted to herself that she really didn’t want to go back to doing that kind of work. And when she’d seen the mansion’s restaurant-quality kitchen and found out that it had been remodeled specifically to pass all the inspections and gain the needed permits to prepare and serve food, it had almost seemed like a sign from above that she was meant to cook for a living.
Heck! Even her benefactor’s name, Geraldine Cook, had been nudging her in that direction.
Once she had accepted that she wasn’t going back to her old job, Dani had spent the months waiting for Mrs. Cook’s estate to be settled drawing up a business plan and completing the necessary legal and financial documentation to establish her company. With the details taken care of, Chef-to-Go, a combination of personal chef services, catering, and ready-to-pick-up lunches, had been born.
Now, she gazed speculatively at the three young women waiting for her to speak. Having in-house helpers would be a huge bonus to her fledgling enterprise. She certainly couldn’t afford full-time employees. And according to the online courses she’d taken, the availability of reliable workers could make or break a company.
“Come on,” Ivy said in a soft, singsong tone. “Our plan is totally solid.”
Dani narrowed her eyes. “Exactly how would this work?”
“Mrs. Edwards says we have to be out of our apartment by Sunday, and we’re all enrolled in the summer session at school, which starts the week after finals. Which, by the way, we currently have no place to live while we take them,” Ivy said. “If you give the okay, our parents will meet with you, then we’ll all sign some sort of agreement as to the rules and rent.”
“Hmm.” Dani thought it over, then said, “I’d also want a clause guaranteeing me a certain number of hours that you all would work for me.”
“Bring it on.” Starr motioned with her fingers.
“Totally,” Tippi agreed.
“No problem,” Ivy chimed in, then paused and added, “Oh, I almost forgot. Our parents also want Uncle Spence to check with you every week to see how we’re behaving.”
Tippi snorted. “Yeah. Can you believe we’re almost twenty-one and they think we need not one, but two babysitters?”
“Contrary to popular belief, no one owes you anything. Even your folks have met their obligations once you reach eighteen,” Dani pointed out. “You could always refuse.”
“Not really.” Red flooded Starr’s face. “We have three choices. The dorm. You and Spence. Or no more money from our parents.”
“Yep.” Ivy snickered. “They have us by the checkbook.” She shot Tippi a dirty look and added, “And not all of us are close to twenty-one.”
“All of us who aren’t geniuses,” retorted Tippi.
“Whatever.” Ivy stuck out her tongue at Tippi, then turned to Dani and said, “But we’d all be thrilled to stay here. We think it would be even better than the apartment.”
“My bad.” Tippi dipped her chin apologetically. “I’d love to live with you, Dani. I’m just ticked that my parents don’t trust me.”
“I understand.” Dani turned her face to hide her smile. These young women hadn’t yet learned that trust had to be earned. “However, I will need to look into the legalities and do some cost analysis to figure out how much rent to charge you.”
“At least as much as the dorms.” Ivy winked.
“Absolutely.” Dani grinned.
She was beginning to get on board with the idea. She already felt like the girls’ older sister. She could easily give them their freedom but with the security of rules to keep them safe. And with the added bonus of filling the three finished guest suites on the second floor without resorting to renting them out to strangers.
“You’ll give me your words that you’ll obey the rules and not sneak around behind my back?” Dani met each girl’s eyes.
“APAF!” the trio shouted in unison.
“Huh?” Dani blinked. What in the heck is an APAF?
Ivy snickered, then explained, “Absolute promise as friends.”
Dani chuckled. “Got it.”
Shaking her head, Dani hoped her dealings with Spencer Drake wouldn’t be too challenging. From some of Ivy’s comments, she thought that the old cop might be a bit of a curmudgeon.
Hmm. Would her new recipe for apple cider crullers win him over? Cops were supposed to love doughnuts, and she’d bet that applied to retired ones too.
Once Dani agreed, the girls immediately called their parents. To seal the deal, Dani made them her newest recipe creation, bruschetta pizza. The whole-wheat crust and balsamic vinegar–infused sauce was a big hit, and as they all worked cleaning up the kitchen, Dani’s heart warmed.
Having her young friends live with her was a good idea. It would be too easy to withdraw into this huge mansion. And the last thing Dani wanted was to turn into a bitter recluse like her father, who only left his house for work.
• • •
Less than a week later, after meeting with the girls’ parents and getting the rules and rent agreements signed, Ivy, Tippi, and Starr had moved in. The young women each had a private suite, which included a bedroom, a sitting area with space for a desk, and a bathroom.
Unfortunately, one of the three finished rooms had a pair of twin beds instead of the kings in the other two, and Tippi had drawn the short straw. This had caused a bit of a rift among the three friends, and Dani hoped Tippi would get over her disappointment before it hurt the girls’ friendship.
The girls were allowed full use of the first floor, but unless invited, they were forbidden from entering the third story, which contained Dani’s personal living quarters. All meals were provided, and each girl agreed to work up to ten hours a week for Chef-to-Go as part of the rent. Their parents had particularly liked that clause in the contract. And Ivy’s mother, who had been a master sergeant in the air force, had announced that KP would straighten out the girls and make them “fly right.”
While getting the mansion ready for Ivy, Starr, and Tippi to take up residence, Dani had begun an advertising campaign for her business. She’d already acquired quite a few steady customers for her sack lunches, as well as one couple who had begun hiring her as their personal chef a couple of nights a week. Now, she just needed to get the catering arm of her company off the ground.
A week after her tenants settled in, instead of a visit, Dani received a text from Spencer Drake. He apologized for being unable to stop by to see how the girls were doing and explained that he had been called out of town to testify on a former case. He requested that Dani contact him immediately if she had any concerns regarding Ivy or the other young women.
Dani grinned, then quickly sent him a reply assuring him that she had everything under control. The girls were doing great, and everyone was safe and sound. She wished him good luck in cour
t and crossed her fingers that all their interactions could be conducted quickly and efficiently via text. As long as her boarders remained on the straight and narrow, maybe she wouldn’t ever need to have a face-to-face with the ex-cop.
Chapter 4
Although it was barely 10:00 a.m., the scent of sautéed peppers and onions drifted through the air. Dani inhaled the tantalizing aroma as she hummed along to “Come Rain or Come Shine,” which was playing softly on the kitchen’s sound system.
“You’ll never guess who is in my differential equations section.” Without waiting for Dani to respond, Ivy continued. “Regina Bourne. And she asked me to be in her study group.” Ivy beamed as she assembled the Grill Murrays, beef tenderloin sandwiches, destined for the lunch-to-go sacks. “She’s the first girl in the history of the Normalton University to be elected homecoming queen three years running.”
“Impressive.” Dani finished tossing a huge bowl of broccoli-and-cashew salad. “But is she good at math?”
Dani turned toward the enormous pan of seven layer bars and began to cut them into squares. She was glad that Ivy couldn’t see her concerned expression. The girl was a brilliant student, double majoring in economics and mathematics, but because she was always the youngest person in her class, she tended to be a tad naive. And Dani had a bad feeling that Regina might be taking advantage of her.
“Hmm. Hard to say,” Ivy mumbled around the handful of nuts she’d just thrown into her mouth. “Monday was the first day of class.”
“You might want to wait a bit to commit to a study group,” Dani cautioned as she finished with the dessert and started packing the lunches in her specially designed red-and-white bags. She offered two lunch choices per day—one indulgent and one healthy. The Grill Murray was the former. “You know, see who might be able to help you as much as you could help them.”
“But that’s the thing.” Ivy crossed to the sink and ran her hands under the tap. “I don’t need help with my studies. I need help with my social life, and that’s where Regina shines.”
“I see.” Dani nodded, impressed with her young friend’s perceptiveness. She was silent as she packaged the fresh fruit cups and oatmeal carmelitas, then said, “I guess as long as you’re both getting something from the relationship, there’s no need to worry. But remember that when you follow the masses, sometimes the m ends up being silent.”
“You are so not funny.” Ivy threw a broccoli stalk at Dani, then shook out a paper sack before placing the Fowling for U sandwich, a turkey sub with lemon basil hummus and balsamic onions, inside. “How many of each are we making?”
“Twenty-five healthy and forty indulgent.” Dani stifled a yawn. They’d started cooking at 6:00 a.m. She checked the time. Fifteen more minutes and the customers would start stopping by for the to-go lunches. “I’ve noticed that we run nearly two to one.”
“Not that your cooking isn’t totally worth it, but I’m a little shocked that students are willing to pay ten ninety-five,” Ivy commented.
“A fast-food lunch costs seven or eight bucks.” Dani opened the massive refrigerator and added the final batch of filled lunch sacks to the shelves. “And even my indulgent selection is way better for you than greasy fries and burgers.”
“Definitely.” Ivy nodded vigorously. “It’s awesome that you have the perfect location here. The house is midway between most of the student apartments and the NU campus.”
“And your idea to distribute flyers in those apartments was brilliant.” Dani grinned. “Especially since I had three serfs, I mean employees, to slide them under each and every door.”
Ivy hopped off her stool and stretched. “I’d better get into the shower if I’m going to make my noon AMALI class.”
“Amali?” Dani asked. The summer session had only started yesterday and she wasn’t familiar with all the girls’ courses yet.
“Asian, Middle Eastern, African, Latin American, or Indigenous cultures,” Ivy explained. “NU’s attempt at providing a politically correct, diverse education. Three hours are required for graduation.”
“What did you pick?” Dani tilted her head. Ivy wasn’t fond of studying anything that wasn’t related to math or business and usually tried to wiggle out of what she called “breathing for credit” courses.
“The only one that seemed even a tiny bit relevant to my future career was Japanese communicative strategies, so I took that.”
“Sounds fun,” Dani teased.
“I’m sure it’ll be fascinating,” Ivy said dryly. “But on the bright side, the professors who teach stuff like this are so afraid of hurting our itty-bitty self-concepts that they grade really easy and no one gets below a C. Which means as long as I sit in back, I can catch a nap if it gets too boring.” Ivy wiggled her fingers in farewell and dashed out of the kitchen.
Dani smiled and shook her head. Having Ivy, Tippi, and Starr as boarders wasn’t anywhere near as problematic as she’d feared. The three college girls were good kids, and she had to admit their rent eased a lot of her worry about starting a business versus taking one of the HR jobs that she’d been offered.
Between inheriting Mrs. Cook’s property and the girl’s payments, the amount she’d needed to borrow to start the company had been cut in half. She truly was fortunate.
Dani had found a picture of Geraldine Cook that appeared to have been taken ten or fifteen years prior to her death. In the photo, the seventyish woman was seated in the sidecar of a red motorcycle wearing a bright-pink helmet tied on with a black, fringed silk scarf and clutching a huge tapestry bag in her lap. Although not exactly Dani’s image of a person who would create a chef’s dream of a kitchen, Mrs. Cook did seem like the kind of person who fully embraced life.
Running her hand lovingly across the four-sided stainless island that contained two commercial stoves, a griddle, a broiler, a salamander, sink, pot filler, and a built-in ice container all integrated in the countertop, she still wondered why Mrs. Cook had thought she needed such a lavish setup to serve breakfasts. Oh well. She wasn’t about to look a gift benefactress in the mouth.
Dani patted the island affectionately. She was so lucky to have a space versatile enough to use for all three parts of her company. Simultaneously handling the trio of businesses was going to be tough, but the mansion’s setup made it a lot less stressful.
The kitchen was spacious enough to prep all the food she would need for her catering gigs, and with the addition of the pass-through window that she’d had installed near the back door, it made selling the sack lunches a snap.
And the restaurant-sized refrigerator was a dream come true for storing the perishables she needed for her personal chef services.
Dani hummed her satisfaction as she began to clean up the mess she and Ivy had left behind in their haste to get the lunches ready. She was placing the last dirty bowl into the dishwasher when a bell chimed to indicate that her first customer had arrived.
Sliding open the window, Dani smiled at one of her regulars and said, “Good morning, Abby. Today, we have the Fowling for U, a turkey sub, fresh fruit, and an oatmeal carmelita.”
Abby Goodman had told Dani that she was finishing her sophomore year at NU and struggled to find healthy eating options on campus. From her unhappy manner, it seemed she was struggling with more than her quest to find nutritious food.
“Sounds yummy.” Abby’s mouth tilted up briefly, then she wrinkled her brow and asked, “How many carbs in the dessert?”
Dani glanced at the printed list taped to the wall and said, “About thirty grams.”
“Sugar?”
“Close to eleven grams.”
Initially, Dani had been surprised at the questions her patrons had asked her about carbs, calories, and fats, but now she was prepared.
“That’s acceptable.” Abby tapped her credit card on the machine attached to the narrow shelf. Taking the red-and-white-striped pape
r sack, she waved and said, “See you tomorrow.”
Marveling at the girl’s willpower, Dani watched the young woman hop onto her bike and head toward the university. Abby routinely refused any part of the meal that didn’t meet her nutritional goals. The gorgeous college coed was already model-thin. Apparently, she intended to stay that way.
When the serving window swished open next, Dani’s eyes watered and she blinked back tears. It was another of her frequent flyers, a guy that Dani had nicknamed Smokey. He always stank of cigarettes, stale sweat, and beer. Dani hadn’t been surprised that he ordered the indulgent meals versus the nutritious ones. Healthy habits didn’t seem to be high on this student’s priority list.
It was a little after two by the time Dani sold the last lunch-to-go and finished prepping for the following day. Her boarders’ supper was in the slow cooker, and she didn’t have to be at the Karneses’ until six o’clock to begin her personal chef duties. The university professor and his plastic surgeon wife liked to eat at seven thirty, and even with the two additional guests they’d added at the last minute, it wouldn’t take her more than ninety minutes to cook their dinner.
Because the university’s summer classes were three to four hours long and each course required more study time than a semester-long class, Ivy, Tippi, and Starr were gone most of the day. This meant that the house was empty, and she intended to enjoy the solitude.
Yawning, Dani rubbed her tired eyes. This past month, she’d really been pushing herself and she was bone tired. But she couldn’t let up now. Not when the business was still in its infancy. She just needed a long bubble bath and maybe a power nap. Then she’d get her second wind and be ready to feed the picky professor and his snooty wife.
Climbing the stairs to the third floor, Dani admired Mrs. Cook’s taste. Her grandmother’s friend had possessed an excellent eye for both form and function. Unlike the antiques in the first-floor rooms, the well-appointed owner’s quarters contained beautiful yet comfortable furniture. And the spa-like bathroom was straight out of HGTV.
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