Cooking Up Love

by Gemma Brocato

  She grasped the hand he’d extended, noting the trembling he couldn’t hide.

  “I’m going to go tell Marissa. I mean, if we’re done.”

  Jem smiled and made shooing motions with her hands. “Go ahead. We’ll work out the details later.”

  His footsteps echoed as he pounded down the stairs and Jem jumped a bit when she heard a whoop of delight after he hit the street. She raced to the front windows, a smile teasing her lips when she saw Avery pump his fist in the air jubilantly while he ran down the sidewalk.

  The day after she offered Avery the job, Jem sat in the front of the café amid the remains of lunch. A steady stream of Seventies rock music leaked out of the kitchen space, where the workers sang along. Jem worked at a table near the windows most afternoons after lunch because the men on Jack’s crew enjoyed offering her suggestions for the menu. Almost as much as they enjoyed the pitchers of lemonade she furnished and the pot of coffee she kept hot and fresh for them. Jem would raise her head with a smile, waving whenever her neighbors passed by and tapped on her window.

  Sitting in the early afternoon sunshine, engrossed in her notes from a meeting with a food distributor, she made another entry in her laptop and was reaching toward her recipe file when she noticed another person standing next to the table.

  “Oh, you startled me.” She froze when she recognized the woman hovering over her.

  “Sorry, I thought you heard the bell.” Tessa stared coolly at her. “I’m looking for BC. Is he here?”

  Jem stared back at Jack’s curvy former wife. She was gorgeous, what Resa would have described as built like a brick house. She wore painted-on jeans and a floral top underneath a long leather coat. In spite of the cool early April temperature, she wore open-toed, stacked-heeled sandals, her bright purple toenails matching the colors in her shimmery top. Her artfully tousled dark hair looked like she had just climbed out of bed, her makeup skillfully and dramatically done. Hers was the type of face and body men fought over. She was everything Jem wasn’t.

  Tessa harrumphed loudly, reminding Jem she hadn’t answered the question. “Look, Mrs. Butterworth, it isn’t a tough question. Is BC here or not?”

  Jem blinked at the other woman’s intentional misuse of her name. A slow smile spread across her face before she allowed herself to outright laugh. “Mrs. Butterworth! That’s good. Mostly I hear Aunt Jemima. I assume you’re confusing syrup brands, right?” she asked as she stood.

  Tessa leveled a venomous look at Jem. She shifted her weight to one leg, her hand resting with attitude on the opposite hip, elbow out. She was the picture of annoyed impatience.

  “Jack isn’t here.”

  “Can you give him a message, please?” The tone in the other woman’s voice clearly added you bitch. “Tell him I had some more thoughts about what we discussed yesterday. Wait. Maybe it was this morning. We’ve had so many conversations in the past week I can’t remember what day it was. Doesn’t matter. Tell him to call me. I have some thoughts about the bedroom I want to share with him.”

  Jem struggled to not let any emotion show at the suggestive smile on Tessa’s lips as she delivered her message. The woman meant to create doubt, based on her wide, not-so-innocent eyes. Jem couldn’t quite hide her quick hurt at the thought of Jack talking almost daily to his ex-wife. He claimed Tessa only wanted him back when he was in a relationship. He’d admitted that he’d taken her back before. What if this time was no different? Tessa’s smile got even wider as Jem hesitated before she answered.

  “You could try to reach him on his cell phone. You have his number don’t you?” Jem was determined to remain cool, in spite of the emotions rocketing through her, roller-coaster-style. Tessa couldn’t know where her relationship with Jack stood. Could she? Jack wouldn’t have talked to this other woman about the two of them. At least, Jem didn’t think he would.

  “Well, thanks, Jane. I’ll give it a try,” Tessa said, pulling her cell phone out of the tight back pocket of her jeans. She made a show of pressing one button, letting Jem know she called Jack often enough to have him on speed dial. Waiting until her call connected, she delivered a spiteful smile and turned to leave, as if seeking privacy for her call. “Jack! Baby, I’ve got another thought about what we’re doing in the bedroom. Call me when you get this message. Love you, ’bye.”

  Tessa blew kisses into the phone before disconnecting. Tossing one last evil grin over her shoulder, she walked out the door. Jem watched the other woman pocket her phone and stop to speak to Grant, who’d walked across the street to greet her.

  Tessa said something to make Grant laugh as they both turned to look at the café. Standing by the table with her computer on it, Jem took an involuntary step back at their looks of animosity. She understood it from Tessa, but Grant’s reaction completely befuddled her. Grant leaned forward and whispered into Tessa’s ear and made her laugh. Tessa shot a triumphant look at Jem before placing her hand possessively through the older man’s arm and walked across the street to his office.

  Still shaken by Tessa words, Jem stared blankly at the food order she’d worked up on her laptop. There was nothing innocent about the woman’s phone call with Jack. She’d sat here for the past fifteen minutes replaying her conversation with Jack’s ex-wife. Rationally, she understood Tessa had purposely baited her with innuendo. Knowing it didn’t necessarily make it easier. Jack had been spending a lot of his free time with Jem. But if Tessa could be believed, he was just as busy with his ex-wife. At least it was what Tessa wanted her to think.

  Her stomach had clenched when Tessa appeared, and hadn’t released its stranglehold yet. God, would she ever be able to get past the doubts her last relationship had left her with? Damn Phil and his cheating ways.

  Lost in her morose thoughts, she didn’t notice someone staring at her from the other side of the large picture window until the stranger shifted, casting a shadow across the laptop. The newcomer raised her hand in a small wave. Jem stood up and motioned the woman to the door, inviting her in.

  “Hi, I’m Jemima George. Are you one of the merchants from down the street? Malin mentioned some of the other shopkeepers planned to stop by.” Jem welcomed the woman with a warm handshake, but her voice trailed off as she noticed tears in the other woman’s eyes. “Are you okay? Here, have a seat. Do you need anything? Coffee, a water?”

  The other woman shook her head. “I’m fine. I’m better than fine. I’m just so grateful to you. I had to come and meet you. I wanted to thank you in person.”

  “Well, color me confused, because I’m not sure what you have to thank me for. Do I know you?”

  “I’m Elizabeth Childers,” her visitor said. “Avery’s mom.”

  Understanding dawned, along with Jack’s warning about getting a package deal with Avery and his family.

  Elizabeth jumped ahead. “Thank you for helping Avery. It broke my heart when his dad threw him out. You don’t do that to your child. Avery is a good boy, and he really is trying to do the right thing. His dad wasn’t a poster boy for unconditional love when Avery was younger. And I was too busy making Walt happy to pay as much attention to my child as I should have. Thank you for giving my son a chance.”

  “Avery is a man, Mrs. Childers, not a boy. I think he has incredible potential in this life. He’s in a tough spot right now, but I think he’s learning from it. I have to tell you, I believe he’ll come out on top.” Jem assessed the woman standing opposite her and gestured to the chair, offering her a seat. “I like him. I also think Avery will be the one to forge a truce, because I can see he has it in his heart to be the bigger man. Once he makes the initial approach, though, the next step will be up to you as parents. I hope you’ll help Walt take it.”

  Elizabeth ducked her head and wiped away lingering tears as she sat down. Her eyes were clear when she looked back at Jem. “Thank you for saying that. I miss Avery. He calls every day. After he knows his dad’s left for work. I think he believes his calling will cause trouble between his dad and
I. We, well…we fought a lot before Walt threw him out.” Elizabeth sat straighter in the chair and squared her shoulders resolutely. “I miss seeing my son. I’m afraid I’m not going to be part of his life, part of my grandbaby’s life. It’s killing me.”

  Jem speculated on the woman’s emotion while she walked to the coffee urn on the counter and refilled her cup. “Avery went to run an errand for Dave. He’ll be back in fifteen minutes or so. You should wait for him to say hello. Would you like a cup of coffee?” she asked, gesturing with the pot in Elizabeth’s direction. At Elizabeth’s nod, she poured a second cup and put it on a tray with her own, some cream and sugar.

  Taking a seat across from her guest, she continued. “I want you to know you’re welcome to stop by and see Avery any time you want. I have to say, though, I’m not so sure about your husband. I’ve been warned he might try to make life difficult for me. I’m just starting off, and trouble is something I don’t need.”

  “The whole situation with Marissa is completely outside Walt’s ability to control. He does like to have the upper hand.” Elizabeth shook her head and added cream to her cup. “He wanted Avery to turn his back on the girl. He even offered Marissa money to have an abortion. When she wouldn’t do it, Walt… He sort of lost it. He planned on Avery joining him at his investment firm after graduating top of his class at Harvard. It never occurred to Walt to ask Avery what his plans were. Our son needs some way to channel his creative instincts. I think working for you, cooking and experimenting with food, is what will make him thrive.”

  “He told me most of what he knows in the kitchen came from you. He has, I don’t know, almost a sixth sense about creating art with food.” Jem shifted in her chair, crossing her legs. “He has potential, and should be encouraged to pursue it. Avery told me you’re a cook, too,” Jem said to change the subject.

  “I prefer baking. I’m more of a sugar person than a savory. But I think you can combine both successfully in one wicked-fine finished product when you choose.”

  “He said you’d considered opening a catering business. Why didn’t you?”

  “Walt. Again.” Elizabeth’s spoon clinked the cup as she stirred her coffee. “Catering involves nights and weekends. He wants me home when he’s there.”

  “He could help you with it, work with you so you’d get to spend time together.”

  “Except he’d never agree to let me be his boss.”

  “I hear some men have a problem with that. I might be looking for trouble and I can’t believe I’m going to do this.” She drew a deep breath before she continued, the words popping out of her mouth before she had a chance to stop them. “Would you work for me? I need help in the café. I’ll be open for breakfast and lunch, and I have meals covered. But I’m not a baker. I haven’t found any prepackaged pastries that I like enough to offer them for sale here. I’ve got Caro’s recipes, but no time.”

  “What?” Excitement bloomed on Elizabeth’s face.

  “Weekday mornings only, four hours a day. To help us get set for the next day. What do you think? You and Avery, in the kitchen again?” Jem raised her hand in a question, waiting eagerly for the older woman’s reply. It was an opportunity to help this hurting woman reunite with her son. She could see them heal in a way she never could with her own parents. “He’ll have his own work to do each day. I hope we’ll be busy enough that you won’t have time to chat. But, you’ll be able to work side by side. You’d be doing me a big favor if you say yes. Avery tells me your cinnamon rolls are legendary.”

  Elizabeth swiped at her eyes, and Jem felt an answering ache at the back of hers. “If you’re serious, then, yes! Absolutely.”

  Avery walked through the door, returning from the errand Dave had sent him on and came to a dead stop. “Mom! What are you doing here?” He dropped the tub of nails and tubes of caulk, handed Jem the sandpaper she’d requested and kissed his mother hello when she surged out of her chair to hug him.

  “I just had a job interview.” She laughed. “I didn’t even know I wanted a job. Now, suddenly I’m one of your coworkers.”

  Avery shot a questioning look at Jem, who grinned and said simply, “She got a good reference from someone else I hired. Apparently, she’s as much of a genius with pastry as you are with spices.”

  “Shut up! Are you serious?”

  “We’re going to give it shot,” Elizabeth said, not releasing her bear hug on her son. “It will be nice being in the kitchen with you again.”

  “You can start tomorrow. Bring your favorite recipes over around ten. Avery and I are making jambalaya and shrimp po’ boys tomorrow.” Jem stood and picked up the packages Avery had dropped when he came through the door. “I hope you’ll plan to stay for the meal. Lunch has turned into a larger event than I ever imagined. It’s become extended family for me. You’re welcome to join.”

  She walked away, giving the Childers privacy to catch up.

  Chapter 19

  For the past week, Jack had spent his nights at Jem’s apartment. Each evening, he kissed her soundly in the kitchen, where delectable lunch or dinner aromas lingered. Tonight was no different.

  “You baked bread? It smells great.” His nostrils flared as he sniffed deeply. His exhale sounded harsh in the quiet kitchen. “You’re mad about something, aren’t you?”

  Jem shot him a no shit, Sherlock look and leaned away from him as he wrapped his arms around her for a kiss.

  He released her, and she skirted around the kitchen island, putting it efficiently between them. Keeping her eyes averted, she toyed with the piece of sandpaper she’d been using on the rough surface.

  “What’s wrong, sugar?”

  “What makes you think anything is wrong?”

  He sighed heavily. “You baked bread and you’re doing physical labor. Tell me.”

  “Tessa stopped by, looking for you.” Jem’s tone was flat.

  “Shit.”

  “That’s one word for it.” Her short burst of laughter died around them as she threw the paper down and wiped her hands on her jeans. “She made it pretty clear she’s been spending time with you. She had some thoughts about the bedroom. No, it was what you could do in the bedroom. I think her exact words were ‘what we are doing.’”

  “We aren’t doing anything in the bedroom, or any other room. I’ve had three, no four, conversations with her on the phone. Only on the phone. She’s deluding herself, and sounds like maybe you, too, if she considers that ‘spending time’ with me. She asked me to make some renovations on her mom’s house. It’s her mom’s bedroom she was talking about.”

  “Jack, you were married to her. You loved her. Maybe you still do. I can see why. She is a stunning woman.” Jem picked the sandpaper back up and worked it harder on the countertop, trying to release the chokehold frustration had on her shoulders. Her hair curtained her face from his view. “Damn it! How can you not want Tessa back? I mean, look at her. I pale in comparison.”

  Anger bloomed in his eyes, making her desperate to call back her words. He pointed at her and lost his temper. “Well, that’s on you, Jem. Frankly, it’s just plain stupid of you to say something like that.” He softened his tone and continued. “I know you aren’t Tessa. Thank God you’re nothing like her. I don’t make comparisons. But if I did? It’s a comparison you’d win. When I married her, I was a just kid enthralled by the package she offered. What horny college kid wouldn’t want that lush body and party attitude? People change. I’ve changed. I’m not a kid anymore. I have more mature tastes now.”

  Jem’s eyes got wide as he clarified his lack of interest in his ex-wife. She opened her mouth to reply, stopping short when he put up a hand.

  “I told you before. I. Don’t. Want. Tessa. Not anymore.”

  “She still wants you, Jack.” She dropped her head, her eyes riveted on the countertop. “And I want more than sloppy seconds. I deserve more. I’m won’t be cheated on again. It hurts too much. If she wants you, and you want her, we should say goodbye now.”
r />   He flattened his hands on the counter in front of him. “Dammit, look at me, Jem.”

  She raised her eyes to look at him.

  “I don’t cheat. Remember, I’ve been on the receiving end, too. It doesn’t matter if she wants me. The only way I’ll ever be with her again is if I trip and my dick accidentally lands in her vagina when I fall.”

  Jem’s eyes went wide and she gasped at his crudity.

  “This isn’t about her. It’s about me. And you. It’s about what I want. I’m not fucking Phil Centers. He’s the man still fixated on tits and ass. Not me. I would never—will never—cheat on you. If it’s not working—if we’re not working—we’ll fix it or we’ll end it. Shit!” Jack ran his hand through his hair, the gesture a display of his frustration. “It’s over with her, Jem. I’m never, ever going back to Tessa. She’s stomped on my heart too many times. I won’t do that to myself again. I know this isn’t news to you. We covered it before. I don’t know why we have to keep coming back here. But, I don’t want to discuss it again. Ever. She was a part of my life, part of what shaped me into who I am today. The way your life with Phil molded you. We’re stronger people because of our pasts, our experiences. We’re better because of them.” He took a deep breath and speared her with a look. “Nod your head if you understand.”

  Jem nodded, swallowing the lump forming at the back of her throat. She’d been wrong to compare him to Phil. This man—this good, compassionate man—was the anti-Phil. She stared at his hands pressed flat against the work surface, unable to meet his eyes.

  “I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair of me. Tessa was just so damn smug, so sure of herself.”

  “Done talking about my ex-wife.” Jack cut her off with an angry slash of his hand and deftly shifted the conversation. “How’d the rest of your day go?”

  Jem smiled as she bent her head over the wooden island and began rubbing it with the sandpaper again. “I hired Elizabeth Childers as a baker today.”