The Complete Langley Park Series (Books 1-5)

by Krista Sandor

“Fred,” Oma said, but Mr. Collier was on a roll.

  “Oh yes!” he continued. “Last night, it was dinner and then watercolor painting. Tonight, we’re watching Cocoon in the campus’ movie theater.”

  Monica stared at her grandmother. A beat passed. “Watercolors? Movie nights?”

  Now it was Oma’s turn to blush. “You sent me here to recuperate. Watercolors, card games, movie nights. This is what old people do here.”

  Gabe joined them and looked a bit worse for wear. His hair was disheveled, his shirt was half untucked, and he had the outline of magenta pink lipstick on his chin.

  He bent down and pressed a kiss to Oma’s cheek and shook Mr. Collier’s hand. “I’m going to…” he began, then trailed off.

  “Get cleaned up in the men’s room?” Mr. Collier supplied.

  Gabe nodded.

  Monica bit back a laugh. This man could command a kitchen and deftly negotiate price points with the stingiest of suppliers, but he had met his match with the sweet little old ladies from Langley Park’s Senior Living Campus.

  “I’ll show you where it is,” Mr. Collier said then turned to her grandmother. “Will you get us seats, Gerda? The movie should be starting any minute.”

  “Of course, Fred.” A smile bloomed on Oma’s face like nothing Monica had seen in a very long time.

  She looked at her grandmother, but she didn’t see her as the stoic, regimented matriarch she’d pegged her as all her life. Instead, she saw a woman who had lived and lost and loved. A woman who had sacrificed her life to run the business she’d started with her husband and raised her granddaughter at the same time.

  She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Can I help you get to the movie theater, Oma?”

  “No, no, enkelin,” she answered, retrieving her cane. “They tell me it is good for me to move around. The theater is just down the hall.”

  “Thank you, Oma,” she said and blinked back tears.

  “For what?”

  “For everything.”

  Oma released a breath and gave a slight shake of her head. Her stern look was back, but something warm softened in her grandmother’s eyes. “I hope you are keeping up with the orders. I see my charm rolls being delivered here to the Senior Living Campus. It is very important to maintain the quality even if you are putting out a high volume.”

  “Yes, Oma,” she said, grateful to be back into their familiar rhythm. “We’ve got it all under control. I’ll come for a visit in a few days.”

  Her grandmother nodded then set off down the hall.

  Monica went to the table where they’d done the strudel demonstration and started arranging the baking items to make it easier for Jonah to load them into the van. It was nice to get out of the bakery. Today was a rare afternoon where neither she nor Gabe were expected anywhere. Jonah would be returning to the shop to close up tonight, and Gabe wanted to give the new sous chef he and Sam had hired at Park Tavern a night to run the show all on his own.

  She gathered a few mixing bowls but froze when she heard a woman speaking French in a sharp, penetrating tone.

  It was Courtney.

  She switched to English. Her knuckles were white as she held the cell phone to her ear. “Don’t tell me you want to help when I know you’re with Sebastien. Au revoir, maman,” she said, ice coating her words.

  Courtney glanced up. Monica caught her eye and waved.

  She slid her phone into a sleek leather clutch and put on a plastic smile. “Sorry about that.”

  “Was that your mother?” Monica asked. When they were younger, Courtney and her mother had a wonderful relationship. Monica was captivated by their conversations that could go from speaking English to French in the drop of a hat.

  “Yes, my father isn’t doing well. We’ve moved him here from a facility in Switzerland. He had a stroke about a year ago and needs constant care.”

  Courtney’s father was much older than her mother. If she’d had to guess, she’d say Courtney’s father must be in his late eighties by now.

  “Courtney, I’m sorry.”

  For all the time she’d been back in Langley Park, she’d only met with Courtney a handful of times and never alone. Each time they’d met, it was to discuss the festival. Courtney had also been traveling quite a bit, making it even harder to connect. Now, she understood why. “Is your mother not here?”

  A hot blush peeked out from Courtney’s silk blouse. “No, my mother is currently shacked up with my childhood ski instructor at our chateau in France.”

  “Oh, Court.”

  Her friend’s plastic smile was back. “It’s just another thing I have to take care of.”

  “Is Bryson able to help?” Monica asked. She hadn’t seen the man at all since she’d gotten back to Langley Park.

  The angry blush intensified. “He’s no better than my mother.”

  “You mean—”

  “I mean,” she said, eyes flashing, “he was weak. He was always weak when it came to the important things.”

  Monica took her friend’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I don’t even know what to say.”

  Courtney’s gaze dropped to their clasped hands. “I thought I’d had it all planned out. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

  “I feel like an awful friend, Courtney. With the bakery and Oktoberfest, we haven’t gotten a moment to really catch up. What can I do to help?”

  Courtney shifted her grip and ran her thumb over the back of Monica’s wrist. The motion sent a rush of uneasiness through her body. How many hours had she spent with Court over the years? Thousands, surely. But something unsettling lingered in her friend’s touch. Something darker. Something forbidden.

  “They don’t even have valet here,” came a man’s voice.

  He stared at his phone, but Monica recognized the stocky set of his shoulders.

  Chip Wilkes.

  For a beat, everything stopped. Her skin crawled. She tasted soda spiked with vodka. The scent of sweat and fear invaded her nostrils. Monica pulled her hand from Courtney’s grasp and gripped her locket. Chip stared at her hand and licked his lips. His gaze raked her body as a filthy glint sparked in his eye.

  “Chip, I’m sure you remember Monica,” Courtney said. She’d transformed back into a composed socialite. “We’re working together to plan Langley Park’s first Oktoberfest.”

  “Of course, I remember Monica. I’ll always remember Monica. Too bad we only had one night.”

  Images of the night she’d gone with him to the gardens flashed through her mind like an out of control carousel. His hands, rough and greedy, rooting inside her panties. The stink of his breath as he pressed a kiss to her neck. The bite of her shoe straps cutting into the top of her feet as she ran home, praying she’d escaped.

  Monica lifted her chin and bit her lip. She wasn’t about to let this man see her tremble.

  “I didn’t realize we were meeting to discuss the festival,” Gabe said, coming to her side. He was cleaned up and looked ready to pounce. The men held each other’s gaze, the air hot and crackling between them.

  “It’s been a long time, Chip,” Gabe said angling his body in front of her.

  Chip gave Gabe the once-over, but the creep was smart enough to know when he was in the presence of someone more powerful. He took a step back. Gabe wasn’t the gangly paperboy on the basketball court anymore.

  Chip crossed his arms. “I hear you’re a cook now?”

  “Yeah, I am,” Gabe answered.

  The electricity in the air amped up another notch before Courtney broke in.

  “Remember when I told you I was at the Aspen Food Festival when you won best new chef?” Courtney interjected, pulling Gabe’s gaze away from her brother.

  Gabe’s expression softened for Courtney. “Of course.”

  “Chip was there with us.” She turned to her brother. “Wasn’t that a lovely time?”

  The twins held each other’s gaze like two people speaking telepathically. Courtney raised an ey
ebrow.

  Chip pulled a flask from his jacket pocket and took a long pull. “I don’t remember. It all tasted like the same expensive shit they serve every year.”

  A muscle ticked in Gabe’s cheek. “What do you do now, Chip? Are you running one of Daddy’s companies?”

  Red splotches appeared on Chip’s neck. “Not all of us get to prance around morning TV making lamb chops.”

  Gabe busted out a shit-eating grin. “If I’d known you were a fan, I would have sent you one of my bestselling cookbooks.”

  Were they going to fight right here? If Chip had even two working brain cells left, he would back down. While Gabe had spent the last decade working his ass off and keeping himself in shape, Chip had clearly spent that time indulging in the good life.

  She had to say something, do something. She couldn’t let them fight. They couldn’t even draw attention to themselves. Any inkling of trouble would be bad for the bakery and bad for Oktoberfest.

  “Um, excuse me?” came a timid voice.

  Monica turned to see Jonah. His gaze bounced off the four of them then settled on Chip.

  Chip turned away from the boy. “I’m going to get the car, Court. Don’t be long. I’m already sick of this damn place.”

  Jonah’s gaze flashed to Courtney. Then he stared at his feet. “Sorry, I just wanted to let you know everything is loaded up and ready to go.”

  “Thank you, Jonah,” Monica said and released a relieved breath, grateful Jonah’s interruption had prompted Chip to leave.

  The teen glanced at Courtney again.

  “Where are my manners? Jonah, this is my friend, Courtney.”

  The teen nodded. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  “Likewise,” Courtney answered.

  Jonah shifted from foot to foot. “I better get going.”

  “Thanks for your help today, Jonah,” Gabe added as the boy carried the last of the baking items out to the car.

  The air still crackled with the remnants of Gabe and Chip’s confrontation. A beat of silence stretched between them before Courtney spoke.

  “I apologize for my brother. With my father’s illness and some issues with the businesses, he hasn’t been himself lately.”

  Monica loosened her grip on the locket. She’d clutched it so hard upon seeing Chip that an angry red indentation lined her palm. Monica smiled politely, but Courtney couldn’t be more wrong. The Chip she had just seen hadn’t changed from the entitled teenager she’d known in high school. In fact, it went deeper. A cruel, dark edge that went beyond being merely a spoiled brat gleamed in the man’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry to hear about your father. Is he here at the campus?” Gabe asked, the bite in his voice replaced with concern.

  “Yes, he is. He had a stroke and requires constant care.”

  “My uncle is here in the Alzheimer’s center. My cousin tells me he’s very pleased with his father’s care. Your father is in good hands.”

  Courtney nodded and smiled. It wasn’t the plastic, debutant grin, but the real smile Monica remembered.

  “Let’s try to meet up soon, Court. We should really catch up, just the two of us.”

  “I’d like that,” she answered. She glanced toward the exit. “I better go. I don’t want to keep my brother waiting.”

  The click of Courtney’s heels echoed through the large vestibule. She exited the building, and Gabe glanced from side to side.

  “What are you looking for?” Monica asked.

  Satisfied with whatever he saw or didn’t see, Gabe led her down a hall. He ran his hands through his hair. “Are you all right? Christ! It took everything I had in me not to throttle that fucker for what he did to you.” He took her hands and leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers.

  His touch centered her, calmed her. “I’m okay.”

  “I didn’t think that bastard lived around here anymore.”

  “Neither did I,” she answered. While she’d only seen Courtney a handful of times since she’d been back, her friend had never mentioned her brother once.

  Gabe pulled back and met her gaze. “I wanted to kill him.”

  Her protector. A warm sensation filled her chest thinking about him, hiding in the bushes, following her the night she’d stupidly gone to the gardens with Chip. Gabe had asked nothing of her. He came because he cared, and he wanted to make sure she was safe—even if it was with another man.

  “He’s nothing we have to worry about, Gabe. He can’t do anything to us.”

  Gabe released her hands and cupped her face. “I don’t care what I have to do. I’ll never let him near you again. I love you too much to let anyone hurt you.”

  “I know you do,” she answered. How had she lived so many years without this man?

  He leaned in, his lips hovering a fraction above hers when a door opened down the hall.

  Monica turned toward the commotion. Gabe pulled back and dropped his hands as voices spilled out of the room. Men and women carrying yoga mats filed out. The crowd, composed of mostly seniors, sauntered down the hall when a few familiar faces emerged from the room.

  “Get ready to hate me,” Gabe said. Except now, he was smiling.

  21

  “Monica and Gabe! What are you guys doing here?”

  “Lindsey!” Monica said, surprise lacing her words. She glanced at Gabe. It was time to be all business. “Gabe and I just finished a baking demo for the residents.”

  A man carrying a baby swaddled in a pink blanket followed behind her. It was Nick Kincade. He was a camp counselor from her time as a junior counselor and now, Lindsey’s husband. Gabe’s cousin, Michael, followed behind, carrying a bundle of his own as a petite woman with fire red hair walked next to him.

  Monica embraced her friend. She needed to deflect away from being caught alone in a hallway with Gabe. “Did you just take a yoga class?”

  Lindsey nodded. “We did! Em and I are six weeks postpartum, so we can start exercising again. Michael and Nick brought the babies over to visit with Em’s dad. He lives in a cottage on the campus.”

  “We haven’t really gotten a chance to meet. I’m Em MacCaslin,” the redhead said and shook her hand.

  “Em MacCaslin MacCarron,” Michael added with a teasing grin.

  Em blew out an exaggerated breath. “With a name like that, it sounds like I should be walking around with a box of Lucky Charms.”

  “It’s nice to meet you. I should probably apologize for…” Monica trailed off.

  “For jamming a cupcake in Gabe’s face?” Em supplied with a smile.

  “Yes, that wasn’t my best moment.”

  “Believe me, you are not the only person who has wanted to smoosh a cupcake in his face,” Em said with a mischievous smile.

  “Hey!” Gabe protested. “Why does everyone keep saying they want to smash things into my face?”

  Em squeezed his cheeks. “Because it’s such a pretty face.”

  A warmth filled Monica’s chest. During the summer Gabe worked in the bakery, she’d loved when Sam, Michael, or Zoe would stop by. The good-natured ribbing. The easy smiles. The relaxed laughter. Of course, Courtney had been her friend. But she’d never had a group of friends.

  The door to the yoga room opened, and an attractive woman who looked like an older version of Zoe with salt and pepper gray hair joined them. She carried a box filled with tiny Buddha statues. “Hi, there! You must be Monica. I’m Kathy Stein, Zoe and Ben’s mom. Zoe’s been telling me all about the bakery and Oktoberfest. It’s about time we met. I own the yoga studio down the street from your bakery.”

  Monica shook the woman’s hand, but before she could say anything in reply, the door opened again. A tall, lanky man with scruffy hair and a serene smile joined them.

  “Sorry, Kath,” the man said in a pseudo-surfer voice. “I was so in the zone. I didn’t even know class ended.”

  “No apologies needed, Ted,” Kathy replied. “We all must honor our own rhythms.”

  “Yeah, we’re all
just like stars with dark and light patches caused by their magnetic field. When they spin the light fluctuates, and we can measure that speed to determine their rate of acceleration and deceleration.”

  “Oh!” Monica said. Her knowledge of stars ended with making them out of marzipan for cake decorating.

  “Ted’s studying astrophysics,” Kathy added.

  Ted’s eyes went wide. “Yeah, we’re also like a bag of Cheetos. Sometimes you want to eat the whole bag really fast, and sometimes.” He paused and glanced around the group with a serious expression. “Sometimes you want to eat it really slowly.”

  A beat of silence passed. Monica glanced at Lindsey, who pressed her lips together, clearly holding back a laugh.

  After a few seconds, Ted gave the group a goofy grin. “Anybody want a lift home? I’ve got my Teddy-cab here.”

  “No!” Em and Lindsey cried in unison.

  “Another time, Ted,” Lindsey offered gently.

  “I’ll take you up on that ride, Ted. Being carted home by bike on a lovely fall afternoon sounds wonderful,” Kathy said with a smile.

  Ted pressed his hands together like one of Kathy’s Buddha statues and bowed. “Your chariot awaits.” He took the box from her and led her down the hall.

  “Ted certainly honors his own rhythm,” Em said, sharing a look and a knowing smile with her husband.

  “What’s a Teddy-cab?” Gabe asked.

  “It’s a torture device for inducing pregnancy,” Em answered.

  Lindsey chuckled. “It’s like a rickshaw. Ted pedals the bike and pulls a bench behind him for people to sit on.”

  “Ted brought us to our wedding on it. It was a really bumpy ride, and Em and Lindsey went into labor after riding in it,” Nick added.

  “Wow!” Monica said.

  Nick adjusted Skylar in his arms, and the baby cooed. Billy joined in, and Monica smiled. She hadn’t seen the babies since the day they were born. “How are the little ones doing?”

  Nick and Michael shifted their arms so she could see the sweet bundles.

  “They’re beautiful,” Monica said, sharing a smile with the proud parents.

  Gabe moved in closer. “They really are.”