Recipe for Redemption--A Clean Romance

by Anna J. Stewart

  Welcoming the familiar and long-absent burning in his lungs and legs, he pulled out his water bottle and drank down the contents.

  The past six months faded as if he were forgetting a bad dream. His thoughts, while still jumbled with regret and frustration, melded with the early sun as he headed back to the inn at a leisurely pace. He wasn’t ready for his quiet solitude to end. He wasn’t ready to surrender his hold on Butterfly Harbor.

  “Morning, Jason!” Holly Campbell waved to him from across the street as she scrubbed down the diner’s windows. “Coffee?”

  Jason hesitated. He figured he’d grab a cup at the hotel, but the aroma of roasting beans led him toward the diner like an entrancing spell. He might be a morning person, but a people person? He’d always been more content to stay behind the scenes, letting first his grandfather and then his brother run the show. David had thrived in the spotlight while Jason had withered. Not that any of it mattered now. Those days were gone. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t become more sociable. Besides, it would be nice to hear Abby call him something other than insufferable and rude.

  “You’re out early today,” Holly said after she flipped the sign around to Open and went to the brewing coffee to pour him and herself a cup. “Have a seat.”

  “Thanks.” At least he’d cooled off some due to the crisp bite in the air. He sipped tentatively, then nodded approvingly as the bitter notes slid over his tongue. “That’s great.”

  “Someday I’ll stop surprising you.” Holly grinned over her shoulder at him. “It’s one of my splurges. An African roast I combine with a more popular restaurant brand. Gets the blood singing and creates loyal customers.”

  “Appreciate it.” He checked the clock as it ticked to 6:00 a.m. “I’m not the only one who starts early.”

  “Requirement of the job. We diner owners have our regulars who have been known to beat the sun. But they aren’t here now, so we have a few minutes to talk.”

  “Do you have a subject in mind?” He should have known the coffee wouldn’t be free. But so far it was worth whatever the price of admission.

  “How about Abby and her whackadoo plan to win this amateur food competition? Do you honestly think she can compete with those other cooks?”

  “Remains to be seen” was the best he could come up with without lying. But Holly had things about right with whackadoo. He’d heard of people reaching for the stars before; it would have been more realistic if Abby’s stars were in the same universe she occupied. “She had a bit of a bumpy start yesterday.” Bumpy? What an understatement, but part of him was anxious to see what his student was going to throw at him next. “She has drive. She wants to win. That’s a good motivator.”

  “That’s a very diplomatic answer.” Holly sipped her own coffee.

  “I’ve been told I’m arrogant and rude, so diplomatic sounds like I’m making progress.”

  Holly chuckled. “Abby tends to call things and people as she sees them. You always know where you stand with her.”

  “You don’t strike me as someone who beats around the bush, Holly. If there’s something you want to ask, go ahead. Trust me, I have very thick skin.” Over the years, if his father hadn’t been ignoring him, he’d been criticizing him. Jason had considered it a good training ground for restaurant reviews.

  Holly angled her head and pinned a piercing brown gaze on him that had him shifting on the counter stool. “I’ll admit it, I read up on you when Abby told me what’s going on.”

  “Is this the part where you inform me that I’d better not hurt your friend or you’ll find a way to serve me to your customers?”

  She smiled. “They only do that in movies or Broadway shows, so consider yourself safe on that front. I’m also not one to pass judgment on anyone’s life or choices. Anymore, at least. That said, I wouldn’t be thrilled to see Abby get sucked into the vortex of your mistakes or their repercussions.”

  “I wouldn’t wish that on anyone,” Jason said and meant it. “I’m still a walking disaster, so be sure you keep your distance.”

  “We’ve all made bad decisions, Jason.”

  “Most people don’t make them on national television.” Or drag their innocent dead brother into the fray. Or end up tanking a company because of it. “Gotta admit, this is the most polite warning I’ve ever received.”

  “This isn’t a warning, Jason. It’s a conversation. I have a lot of respect for what you do. What your brother did. Owning and running a four-star restaurant in New York is a bit more pressure filled than operating, say, an ordinary old-fashioned diner.” Holly waved a hand around her establishment. “I can’t even imagine how hard you had to work for what you have and how difficult things must be now that your brother’s gone. I’m sorry about that.”

  Jason glanced away before he saw any sympathy in her eyes. “Thanks. But this mess is my own fault. I took a chance I shouldn’t have.” He’d let his father goad him into something he hadn’t been comfortable with and then let the pressure get to him. Maybe he’d done it for David—maybe that’s what he’d convinced himself of. Or maybe he’d done it in an attempt to finally win his father’s approval.

  “You’re interesting. There’s something about you.” She paused, but used her finger to draw a circle at him. “Can’t quite put my finger on it, but I’m sensing there’s a lot more to you than anyone gives you credit for.”

  That observation didn’t make him uneasy in the slightest. He took another swallow from his cup. “Does your coffee have magical powers?”

  “Only the power to wake people up. Which you’ll need if you’re teaching Abby to cook. Do me one favor?”

  “Okay.” Here it comes.

  “Be careful with her. She puts on a good show, but her heart is about three times the size of the rest of ours. That means it’s a bigger target.”

  Was anyone ever going to say what he expected them to? That he was poison, that he’d disappointed everyone in his life, including himself. Was everyone in Butterfly Harbor genuinely this nice, or was it a matter of waiting for the other shoe to drop? “They’re only cooking lessons, Holly.”

  “Well, in case it turns into something more, tread lightly, okay? She’s got a lot going on and life’s been kicking her around. I’d hate for her to have to add you to that list. As someone who can relate, I just wanted to put it out there.”

  “Noted.” He didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t have any designs on Abby Manning. How could he? He’d never met a woman he had less in common with. Yet he’d often found himself dwelling on that flirty, bright smile of hers or the way she put her hand through her thick blond hair when she was nervous. Not his type. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t tempted to find a pleasurable route to keep her from that incessant chattering of hers. Healthy male appreciation, he told himself. That’s all it was. Wasn’t it?

  The bell over the door chimed as a sleepy-eyed woman strolled in, her eyes brimming with that familiar glaze of caffeine dependency. She held out her hand for the mug of coffee Holly passed to her. “Mmm. Thank you.” Her long ash-blond ponytail draped down her back as she drank, looked up to the ceiling and sighed. Her jeans and bright-colored T-shirt matched Holly’s similarly casual uniform.

  “Charlie’s going through one of her late-night phases,” the woman explained. “I had to tell her three times to turn off the light and go to bed, but that’s what happens when she discovers a new series of books. Don’t know what I’ll do once school starts. Oh, hi.” She smiled at Jason. “You’re Jason Corwin. It’s great to meet you. I’m Paige Cooper.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Confession time.” Holly held up her hand as if about to swear an oath in court. “I have to admit I lured you inside under false pretenses, Jason. Paige is a big fan.”

  “Are you?” Jason gripped his mug tighter as he offered his other in greeting.
“I can say the same. Your steak sandwich yesterday made me admit to Abby I had the diner pegged completely wrong.”

  “Oh, wow.” Paige smiled as her cheeks brightened, although not in the same enchanting way as Abby’s. “Careful. Abby won’t let you forget that.”

  No kidding.

  “Your opinion makes me feel like I just won a James Beard Award,” Paige continued. “I’m sorry about everything you’re going through. Losing your brother like that and then, well, the rest. JD’s is on my bucket list of places to eat. I just have to hit the lottery first.”

  Jason nodded as he wondered when the mention of David would stop feeling like an arrow to the heart. Not to mention what he was waiting for... Were people in this town purposely avoiding calling him a cheat and liar in front of him?

  “I know the restaurant’s expensive,” he said. “That’s something we were working on before he died.” The idea of smaller, more affordable eateries where the focus would be on the food rather than the ratings and profit still held more appeal than the craziness of upscale Manhattan. Since they’d been so successful, they’d thought it a risk worth taking, one that, because of its narrower profit margin, their father had been adamantly opposed to. Not that Edward had had a say while David was alive.

  “I started carrying this around when I heard you were in town.” Paige dug into her bag and pulled out a worn, tattered soft-cover copy of All the Best. “Would you mind signing this for me? You and your brother have taught me a lot.”

  “Good to know, for Abby’s sake,” Holly said.

  “Um, sure.” He patted his shirt, his hands tingling at the thought of holding another tangible token of his and David’s past. “I don’t have a pen—”

  Holly set one on the counter as he took the book from Paige. The other night, a copy of this book was the last thing he’d wanted to see. He remembered the day of the photo shoot six years ago. He’d hated every minute of it, couldn’t find a smile that didn’t make him look like some psycho out of a stalker film. It wasn’t until David had started nudging him, trying to break his focus, even put him in a headlock and mussed his hair that he’d loosened up. The photo they’d chosen for the back cover was his favorite, hands clasped on each other’s shoulders as they’d doubled over in laughter.

  It had ended up being a good day.

  He flipped through the wrinkled and stained pages, a pressure building in his chest he couldn’t define. “You have used this book a lot.”

  “And experimented with your recipes,” Paige admitted with a nervous laugh. “I’m sorry it’s so messy and spattered. I probably should have bought a new copy for you to sign, but...”

  “No, this is great.” He didn’t see a bunch of bound pages of information that had hit the bestseller lists. This book, their book, meant something to Paige. “Those stains feel like a badge of honor.” One that was stabbing him right in the heart as he flipped to the dedication he’d written.

  For my brother, my friend, David Corwin. Thank you for helping me learn to fly.

  And beneath...

  For Jason Corwin. For always catching me when I fall.

  When he handed the signed copy to Paige, he did it with a hand he couldn’t stop from shaking. He got to his feet to prevent them from seeing; he didn’t want to watch Paige flip through to what he’d written. He didn’t want to dwell on the fact that he’d walked away from everything his brother had stood for and believed in. Everything Jason could never do on his own. “Thanks for the coffee, Holly.”

  “It’s on the house,” Holly said when he reached into his pocket. She mouthed a silent thank-you as he left. He pretended not to hear Paige call out her thanks, choosing instead to lose himself once again in the crashing shore of a small town that was quickly becoming too large for him.

  * * *

  AFTER AN EARLY-MORNING meeting with her staff that included bolstering their anemic work schedules and covering her own backside, Abby felt much better about turning the inn over to them under Lori’s supervision until the festival kicked into high gear.

  Matt Knight had come through and finished up Abby’s to-do list around the inn, so she could breathe a sigh of relief. Except the less she had to focus on, the more she worried about the upcoming competition and how much was riding on her winning. This was her one shot at pulling the inn out of the financial fire. She had to succeed.

  Knowing how the accounts stood, she’d have to dip into her savings to cover everyone’s expanded hours, but after giving herself a stern talking-to, she decided to fully commit to the contest. Otherwise she’d always wonder if there was more she could have done.

  Item number one that morning, however, had been to restock the first aid kit as a precaution.

  “I don’t understand this food competition thing of yours,” Gran said as Abby gathered up her files and notes while Lori headed into a follow-up meeting with Bonnie and Judy, her two invaluable Jill-of-all-trades employees. Abby found Alice standing at the bay window overlooking Grandpa Bob’s bench. “What purpose is this going to serve other than give you more to do?” her grandmother asked.

  “Free advertisement, Gran.” The lie came easier every time she told it. “The participating cooks each get some publicity on a national network,” Abby added. “We’ll also get mentions in print ads in some big travel magazines and blogs.”

  “Time was, all we had to do was send out postcard reminders to our former guests to fill this place up.”

  “Yeah, well, time was Butterfly Harbor had more to offer than a handful of stores and the ocean.” They would have been enough for her.

  “What about that new butterfly thingamabob Mayor Hamilton’s been working on?”

  “The town council wants to make sure Gil’s following proper procedure.”

  No doubt to make sure he wasn’t taking any kickbacks or payoffs for the project. She couldn’t blame them. Gil hadn’t stuck to the straight and narrow with the council members as much as he could have. Making arbitrary decisions he should have consulted them on hadn’t won him many fans. Gil had not only his own past working against him, but his father’s as well. The shine of the Hamilton name had been seriously tarnished over the past decade. Abby frequently wondered if the new mayor was trying so hard to distance himself that he didn’t realize it was at a serious expense, like trustworthiness.

  “Last I heard they’d narrowed down the decision to three possible locations.”

  “And what’s it going to be again?” Alice frowned.

  “A butterfly sanctuary, research station and natural history museum.” Abby loved the idea, especially if the project did as was promised and brought more families to town and made Butterfly Harbor a tourist destination. Not that they’d be able to rival the spectacular and expansive Monterey Bay Aquarium, but a project like this could be an addendum to anyone traveling through the area. “I believe the TrueLane Academy is going to be one of the sponsors, which makes sense since they’re a school for gifted students.” The same school Simon Campbell would be attending in a couple of weeks. “It’s going to be good, Gran. You’ll see.”

  “And this food festival will help with all this?”

  Abby sighed. “The town needs an event like this. They’re looking for volunteers to help organize it. The Cocoon Club has been working with the mayor’s office. You should join them.”

  “I thought maybe you’d like me to stick closer to home. In case you and Lori need my help.”

  They were drifting into familiar territory and an area she wanted to steer her grandmother clear of. “Everything’s covered here, Gran, and the doctors have told you keeping active will do wonders for you.”

  “I’m active enough. Eloise and I have a good time together.” Her grandmother’s hand tightened around the window frame. “Your grandfather started that club.”

  Abby’s heart twisted. She cou
ldn’t imagine anything more wonderful than the love her grandparents had shared for over four decades, but it had been five years since Gramps had passed. Abby knew some people got mired in grief longer than others, but it had to end sometime, didn’t it?

  She hoped it did. For both Gran and for Jason.

  Abby set her papers down and went to her grandmother, wrapping her arms around Alice’s increasingly frail form, resting her chin on her shoulder. “Is that why you stopped participating in the Cocoon Club after he died? Because it reminds you of him?”

  “I see him everywhere. Feel him, too.” Abby could feel her grandmother trembling. “Even now, I can remember how he’d sit on that bench and marvel at the ocean. He said it never failed to remind him what mattered. Of how small we are when compared to the rest of the world. He loved this place. I miss him.”

  Abby tried to block the fear of failure, that she’d be forced to take Gran away from her last connection to the man she’d loved. “Gramps was a good guy. He wouldn’t want you to stop living. He’d worry. It makes me worry.”

  “Time’s coming you won’t have to worry about anything but your own life.” Alice squeezed Abby’s hand. “I’m scared of what comes next. Not dying. That’s when I’ll see my Bob again. I don’t want to lose myself before then. I don’t know that there’s anything worse.”

  “I don’t want that, either.” Abby’s throat went tight. “Your doctors are optimistic, although they probably wouldn’t approve of you locking yourself away for the last few months. There’s so much you can be doing. And your friends will help.”

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve been to one of their meetings. Aside from Eloise, I didn’t exactly leave on the best of terms.”

  No, she hadn’t, but that’s what mourning did to some people. They lashed out at those closest to them.

  That her grandmother, once the life and heartbeat of Butterfly Harbor, feared she wouldn’t be accepted by her lifelong peers and friends broke off a little piece of Abby’s heart. All the more reason to do whatever it took to keep her grandmother in the home—and town—she knew and loved.