Recipe for Redemption

by Anna J. Stewart

  “Thanks.” He read the return address and repressed a sigh. Since he’d agreed to read all the documentation surrounding Corwin Brothers, Gary’s campaign to get Jason to come home to New York had kicked into high gear and forced Jason to turn off his phone. “Hey, I’m going to be fixing a light supper tonight if you and the rest of the staff want to join us. Say, six?”

  “Sounds great.” Lori beamed as he walked toward the kitchen.

  When Abby joined him a few minutes later, she groaned. “Why are you cooking? How can you be cooking? Wait.” She sat on her favorite stool and examined the ingredients on the counter. “What are you making?”

  “Gazpacho and grilled cheese sandwiches.”

  “How can you make grilled cheese without those plastic-wrapped slices?”

  Because he suspected she could barely focus, he chopped up half a jalapeño and dumped it into the food processor. “That’s not cheese. And since when don’t you trust me?”

  “Snob. And don’t ruin my childhood for me.” Abby yawned, then perked up. “What’s this?” She picked up his letter. “Registered? Looks important.”

  “Gary thinks everything’s important.” He should have left the envelope with Lori or put it in his pocket, but he’d been anxious to get cooking.

  “Don’t you care what’s in this?”

  “Not as much as you, apparently.” Jason scoffed. “It’s the same old stuff he’s been talking to me about for a while, Abby.”

  “I can read it to you.”

  “If you want to open it, open it. There’s nothing in there that’s going to change anything.”

  “You really don’t mind?”

  Jason shrugged and tried not to lose his concentration as she ripped open the envelope.

  “This is signed by the entire Corwin Brothers board of directors.” Abby’s eyes went wide as she read. “Jason, they want you back.”

  “I know.” He bit into a chunk of celery. “I told you, it’s nothing new.”

  “No, Jason, I think it might be. The board has already notified your father they’re taking a new vote next week. You’re the de facto chairman.”

  Jason swore and set his knife down. “Meaning they aren’t going to give me a choice. Great.” He held out his hand so he could read it for himself. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to take it.” A feeling of vindication swept over him. “Doesn’t mean I want to take it.”

  “You don’t sound as convinced as you did a few days ago.” Abby rested her chin in her palm and watched as he pocketed the letter. “Don’t tell me you’re not curious about what this could mean for your company.”

  “It means they’re tired of losing money and I’m a better bet than my profit-obsessed father.”

  “Because you’re the brand. You and David. Maybe this is the opportunity you’ve been waiting for. You said you and your brother wanted to take things in a different direction—”

  “I’m taking things in a different direction already.” Jason picked up his knife again. “I don’t need to be chairman of anything to do what I’m doing now.”

  “Lurking in my kitchen until my regular cook comes home? Yeah, that sounds productive.”

  “There you go again, trying to get rid of me.”

  “That’s not what I’m trying to do. But I don’t want you ignoring something potentially wonderful because you’re afraid it isn’t going to work out.”

  “That’s the second time you’ve called me a coward, and I like it even less this time.” He shoved his knife through the red peppers with more force than necessary. “Then again, you have a point. Maybe I don’t want to get my hopes up. Maybe I don’t want to open that door because I know it’s going to get slammed in my face.”

  “Or maybe you’re afraid you’ll get everything you want.”

  He didn’t hear her get up, didn’t notice her walk around the counter, but when she touched his arm, yet another door he didn’t expect opened. He set his knife down and gripped the edge of the countertop and asked what he’d been building up the courage for. “What if all I want is you?”

  “Me?” There it was, that uncertain squeak of disbelief he’d come to love. When he glanced at her, her cheeks had gone pink, her eyes glassy bright. “You want me? Why—how—when—”

  “I do love seeing you flummoxed.” He turned toward her and cupped her chin in hand. “Speechless is even better.” He brushed his lips against hers and embraced that mind fog that descended whenever she looked at him. Kissed him. “I want you to listen to me, Abby. All I care about for the next few days is watching you win that contest. I want you to get that money and save your inn and give your grandmother the security you’ve been fighting for. I want to watch you win every battle you’ve taken on. Better yet, I want to fight by your side.”

  “I’d like that.” She wrapped her hand around his wrist. “More than anything I want you to stay. Here. With me. But—”

  “I love you, Abby.” His lungs suddenly emptied. His shoulders straightened. Who needed alcohol when he had Abby around?

  “Oh.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Crispy crickets, Jason, when did you start saying the right thing at the right time?” She leaned in and wrapped her arms around his neck as he drew her closer to him. “I love you, too.”

  “I hear a but in there.”

  “You do, yes.” She stepped back and stared into his eyes, nose to nose, determination shimmering in the turqoise depths that had entranced him from the day he’d met her. “I do love you, but I don’t want you to turn away from something you might regret later on. I don’t want you to fight only for or with me. I want you to fight for yourself. I want you to at least think about going back to New York, seeing what the offer is, what you can get out of it. If there’s a way to make this work between us, we’ll find it, but I don’t want you to look at me one day and think you should have made a different choice. I don’t want to be your fallback plan.”

  He stroked his hand against the base of her spine, pressed his forehead against hers. “If I promise to think about it, will that be enough to get you to back off at least until after the festival and you’re on solid ground again?”

  “Assuming I win,” she added.

  “Abby?”

  “Fine. I’ll stop pestering you about New York until we’re on the other side of the Flutterby issue. Now, are you going to teach me how to make your famous grilled cheese sandwiches, or will I have to read about it in your new cookbook?”

  His gaze narrowed. “What new cookbook?”

  “A conversation for another time.” She grinned and jumped out of his arms. “Show me what you got, Super Chef.”

  * * *

  “I THOUGHT IT was time I introduced myself.”

  Water sloshed over the edge of Abby’s cup as she spun around.

  “Sorry.” Marcus Aiken aimed one of his trademark heart-stopping smiles at her as she faltered. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “It’s fine.” As much as she wanted to be rude to the chef who had hurt Jason’s chances for success, her years of customer service kicked in and she offered her hand. “Abby Manning.”

  “Pleasure. I, well, I wasn’t sure if you would even want to speak to me.” His handsome features shifted into uncertainty. “Word is you’ve been seeing Jason Corwin.”

  Seeing? Her cheeks warmed. “We’re...friends. He’s been a big help getting me ready for this competition.” A competition that would be over in a matter of hours.

  “Jason’s always been an excellent teacher. I miss working with him.”

  “I guess we’ve all done things we wish we could do over.” Her words hovered on snarky before she reeled in her animosity. “He told me he’s not angry with you anymore. In case you ever want to apologize for taking advantage of his grief.”

  Marcus flinched. “Believe
me, I wish I’d done a lot of things differently during that time.”

  Sympathy sneaked in. Here she’d expected Marcus to argue, to protest, even to defend himself and insist he could claim the high ground.

  “Maybe I should talk to Jason directly,” he continued. “He should hear the tru—” His gaze shifted uneasily past Abby’s shoulder as Roger Evans joined them.

  “I almost didn’t recognize you without your coach, Abby.” Roger winked at her over his coffee cup. “I hope everything’s okay with him.”

  Unease prickled the back of her neck. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Oh, just rumblings around the industry. Nothing serious, I’m sure. Will Jason not be joining you today?”

  “He had some errands to run.” Something he hadn’t been particularly forthcoming about, but she’d lay odds he’d sneaked off to Calliope’s farm again. “He’ll be here later.”

  “Well, we’re set to start in an hour. Tick tock. Marcus, would you excuse us for a moment? There’s something I need to discuss with Abby privately.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Marcus moved away with what Abby likened to a silent warning on his face. “I’ll see you onstage, Abby. Good luck.”

  “Thank you.” Darn it, she really didn’t want to like the guy, not after what he’d done to Jason, but she couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to the man than what headlines and gossip had conveyed. “What did you need to talk to me about, Roger?” Abby sipped her water to have something to do.

  She frowned when Roger took her arm and steered her into the far corner of the contestants’ tent. “You’re doing a wonderful job in this competition, Abby. Far better than I expected.”

  “Um, thanks?”

  “Funny thing. And I’m sure you heard about this, but part of the reason we’re taping this event is to find some new talent for the National Cooking Network. It’s been tough, given recent events, keeping shows on the air.”

  “Maybe you should stop booting people off without giving them a chance to explain themselves.” She could only imagine how much goodwill the network might have garnered if, instead of kicking Jason to the curb, they’d offered their support and understanding.

  “I like that about you, Abby. You speak your mind. And you’ll defend the people you care about to the death. I don’t see that type of loyalty much these days.” He moved to stand beside her as Clara shifted into focus, today’s ’50s dress a mix of ocean blues and greens. “Now, that girl there.” Roger gestured toward Clara. “She’s a star in the making. She’d be a perfect addition to the network and, if you don’t mind my saying, my list of discoveries.”

  “I’m sure she would.” Tension percolated in her stomach. Where was he going with this?

  “And Clara wants it. Wants it really bad. I’m guessing you don’t?”

  “You’d be correct.” All Abby wanted was that prize money so she could get her life back, get the inn in the black and settle Gran once and for all. The very idea of events like this becoming a regular occurrence made her want to run screaming from the tent.

  “It’s too bad Clara’s in third place going into this final leg,” Roger said. “There’s no way we could justify giving Clara her own show if she doesn’t win something of significance.”

  Abby’s stomach pitched. “I wasn’t aware this contest was that big a deal.”

  “It is, it is. It’s my baby, and getting the network to fork out so much cash wasn’t easy, but I told them it was an investment. An investment I intend to grow over the next few years. And it wouldn’t do anyone any good if in the inaugural year it was discovered a contestant lied on her application.”

  Abby felt the color drain from her face. “I’m sorry?” She couldn’t believe she got the words out.

  “I’m betting you are about now.” Roger smirked. “See, when you signed that contract, you stated you didn’t employ any member of the NCN family. But that’s not exactly true, is it? Not with what I saw the other night in your kitchen.”

  “Kissing one of your ex-employees doesn’t violate that contract.” The plastic cup in her hand cracked and water dribbled over her fingers.

  “That isn’t what I’m talking about.” He got out his phone and showed her a photo taken from the porch outside the kitchen, of her and Jason exchanging money from Matilda’s cash jug. “He’s cooking for your guests, Abby. He’s been teaching you how to cook, and while that doesn’t necessarily constitute professional training, it’s definitely something to think about. It certainly makes me wonder if there’s been another violation of the rules.”

  “You canceled his shows,” Abby reminded him. “He doesn’t work for you any—”

  “Whether his shows are on the air or not, he’s still under contract with NCN. And before you try to explain your way out of this, you signed that contract the very next day after Jason arrived at the inn. A reservation, I should note, that was made weeks before. You can’t convince me you didn’t know he was coming just in time to participate in the festival. And if you can’t convince me, you won’t convince anyone else.”

  “Why don’t you give me the chance to tell you and we’ll see about that?” She crushed what was left of the cup and tossed it into the trash. “Point me in the direction of your boss and I’ll happily discuss it with him or her. Or maybe I’ll withdraw from the competition all together.”

  “You don’t strike me as someone who makes empty threats, Abby. You’re forgetting I’ve become fast friends with your mayor, and he let slip just how unstable the Flutterby Inn’s future is. You won’t withdraw. Not when you need that cash to save your precious inn. But even if you did pull out, that doesn’t give me what I want.”

  “You don’t strike me as a man who beats around the bush, Roger.” Abby was more than happy to throw his own words back at him. An angry fire of humiliation burned low in her belly. “What do you want?”

  “I want Clara to win. I want her to shine.”

  “Which means I have to fail.” Her mind raced, dread swirling as she comprehended his meaning. “You want me to throw the competition.”

  “Your words, not mine.”

  “So, lose on purpose or you’ll what? You’ll expose me on national TV? What would that do to your reputation as a producer, having to expose one of your contestants because of a clerical error that, by all rights, should have been caught before the start of the competition?”

  “Oh, you misunderstand me, Abby. It’s not you I’d be concerned about. Tell me something.” Roger shifted in front of her and stared with snakelike eyes into hers. “Do you think Jason can withstand another scandal? Because that’s what this would be if his involvement came to light. No one would care that you lied on an application. But with this particular man’s history of cheating and aversion to the truth, a man who chose to disappear rather than own up to what he did and who, from what I’ve been told, is poised to reclaim his struggling company... Well.” Roger shrugged. “That just puts a whole new public spin on things.”

  “You’d blame everything on Jason when I’m the one who signed that contract?” Was he serious? This couldn’t be happening. Not over a cooking competition. “But it’s not true. Jason didn’t know anything about what I signed.”

  “Ah, there’s the kicker, Abby.” Roger pointed a finger in front of her face. “This isn’t news to you. You aren’t surprised I’m even mentioning this, so I’m guessing you knew what you’d done was wrong.”

  Suspecting and knowing were two different things. Worrying and hoping...hadn’t done her any good. “None of that means Jason’s to blame.”

  “It doesn’t matter if he’s to blame or not. The public will believe what they’re led to believe. Perception of wrongdoing is enough to ensure Jason never spends another day in New York, let alone becomes chairman of Corwin Brothers. I’d be surprised if he’s ever let back into a kitchen.”
>
  Abby swallowed hard and, despite her best efforts, she looked away. A flash of movement exposed Marcus standing on the other side of the tent, not quite close enough to hear the details, but the quizzical expression on his face told her he understood something was amiss. “You’d go to all this trouble just to make Clara a star?”

  “Clara happens to be convenient. It could easily have been Steve, but the frat brother vibe isn’t working. He’s a goof. Clara’s a multimillion-dollar brand waiting to happen. Just like Marcus was before her and the others before him. It’s Jason’s own fault he never learned to play the game. Not that David did, but at least he understood how things happen in this business. And that’s what all this is, Abby. It’s business. Fame, fortune—it’s all tied to celebrity these days, and celebrity is what people like me create.” He glanced at his watch. “You have a little time to think about all this. But just so you’re aware, I’ve already drafted a press release outlining Jason’s role in your deception. While you might be able to salvage something, I’m not entirely sure Jason will. It’s one contest, Abby. And you’ll walk away with some, if not enough, prize money to fix whatever’s broken. Unless of course you don’t care about Jason and his future. In which case I’ll take my chances and hope Clara wins fair and square.” She was a little surprised he didn’t slither away.

  Abby’s entire body trembled. Her hands shook as she touched her neck, feeling the absence of her rings, apart from Jason the only things that could have given her comfort.

  “Abby?” Marcus approached with a new cup of water and pushed it into her hands. “What’s going on? I only heard bits and pieces. What did he say to you?”

  She tried to smile and play off her conversation with the man who could ruin Jason once and for all. Everything Jason had done to rebuild himself, rebuild his life, and now it was all at risk because of her stupid, selfish, impulsive actions.

  “Nothing important,” she managed to say. The water splashed over the edge of the cup again before she could drink it. “He’s really a piece of work, isn’t he?”