by Anne, Melody
“I’m not sure if that’s a bad or good thing. I’m confused now,” Brooke said.
That made Chloe smile. “Welcome to my world.”
“One thing I know for sure is there’s not a chance of avoiding him, not in this town, so you either have to be honest with him and tell him to back off or tell him you need time to figure out what you want. I’m sure he’ll respect that.”
“Do you think a guy would even understand if we told him we have no clue what it was that we wanted?” Chloe asked.
That made Brooke smile. “Nope. He won’t understand it at all, but it would give you some breathing room. I really want to see you work on this project. The entire town is rallying behind it.”
“As much as I’m frustrated with Joseph, I want to do it. I’m just so stubborn I haven’t signed the papers. But I have done some preliminary drawings. I could make this kitchen efficient and amazing. And maybe it would get publicity for this place as well. Though I’m busy now, it’s the novelty of a new place in town. I want it to stay busy forever; then someday maybe it can even expand into more cities.”
“I think that’s a smart business plan. Just tell Brandon to back off and let you breathe, and all of it will work out just fine,” Brooke assured her.
“Is that how it worked with Finn?” Chloe asked.
“Finn and I were complicated from the day we met, but in the end it all worked out.”
“I don’t want to get married,” Chloe said.
“This isn’t the eighteenth century. You don’t have to get married if you don’t want to,” Brooke pointed out.
“I don’t want to fall in love.”
Brooke gave her a smile. “I don’t think you really get a choice in that.”
“You aren’t reassuring me,” Chloe said. “I’ve always believed love is a choice. I chose to love you and Sarah. And I’ve chosen not to love a man.”
“I’d say because we’re more sisters than besties. And as far as men go, that’s because the right one hasn’t come along.” She looked to the door. “Or he hadn’t until maybe now.”
“This isn’t love. This is just hormones. I’ll beat them,” Chloe said, more determined than ever before to prove herself right.
“Well, good luck with that,” Brooke said as she laughed.
“Look out the door and tell me what he’s up to,” Chloe said with a growl in her voice. Brooke was of no help at all.
“He sat down at a table. Marcy handed him the menu and appears to be going for coffee.” The normality of the moment snapped Chloe from her panic attack. She actually found herself smiling the tiniest bit as she tugged on Brooke’s arm to get her attention.
“You have to go find out what he’s doing here,” Chloe said. “Hopefully it’s nothing more than a coincidence, and he’s not looking for me at all.”
“Considering this is your place, I highly doubt he’s just here for the coffee and pastries. Though they are damn fine. I think I’ve gained ten pounds since this place opened.” She sent a glare Chloe’s way, as if that was her fault.
“I don’t make you eat the food,” Chloe pointed out.
“Yes, you do!” Brooke exclaimed. “Since you practically live here, if I want to see you, I have no choice but to come in. And there’s no way anyone can walk into this place without getting hungry.”
“That’s why I bring you here again and again. You stroke my ego,” Chloe said.
“Your ego doesn’t need stroking. You know what a good cook you are. You got the chef genes, hands down.”
She flinched a bit at that statement. She wanted to be good on her own, not because it was in her genetics. She didn’t necessarily want to be better than her parents; she just wanted to be best on her own.
“That’s most certainly true. Though Sarah has gotten a lot better at cooking.”
“Good. Then I never have to,” Brooke said, perfectly content to not be a world-famous chef.
“It amazes me anyone wouldn’t want to cook. It’s so much fun to throw ingredients together and watch magic happen.”
“That only happens when you love to do it. I light stoves on fire when I attempt anything fancy.”
“That’s true,” Chloe said with another smile. “And you’ve done well at calming me. Now you have to go find out what Brandon wants.”
“While you hide in here?” Brooke said.
“Yep, I’m totally hiding, and I’m not even ashamed of it.”
Brooke disappeared out the doors, and Chloe crept over and glanced through the crack as Brooke sashayed up to Brandon. Brandon looked up with a big smile. Then he stood and gave his sister-in-law a hug.
“Are you stalking my best friend?” Brooke asked with a sly smile. Brandon laughed. Chloe was a bit envious of their easy relationship. Of course, she knew she could have that same relationship if she gave the guy a chance. If she could guarantee friendship only, she might just do that. Maybe her hormones would eventually calm down. Maybe not.
“Do I ever need to stalk anyone?” Brandon asked.
“I wouldn’t think so, but here you are . . . ,” she said, pointing out the obvious.
“Yep. Here I am. Now are you going to tell me where Chloe ran off to?” he said, giving Brooke an assessing look. It appeared as if he was trying to judge if Brooke was more his sister-in-law or more Chloe’s friend. He’d lose. Nobody got in the way of their deep, abiding friendship.
“Well, I hate to tell you this, but she left for the day,” Brooke said, thinking on her feet. “Maybe I can help you.”
“We both know she doesn’t ever leave this place so early,” Brandon said, the smile never leaving his eyes. “I bet she’s watching this entire conversation, and you’re the go-between.”
“Whatever do you mean?” Brooke asked, fluttering her eyelashes. “I’d never do such a thing.”
Brandon leaned back in his chair, as if he had all the time in the world. Then his lips turned up, and Chloe’s breath was taken away. Brandon had a smile that could make the biggest Grinch grin back at him. She was sure the man was very aware of his appeal.
“We both know I spotted Chloe while I was walking in. She disappeared faster than a hooker at the end of her hour, and then magically, you appear. My guess is she’s in the back trying to wait me out.” He paused for a very long time. “But you should know by now that I’m a very patient man.”
Chloe wanted to shout out “Mayday! Mayday! The ship is going down!” Instead, she stayed where she was and tried to have faith in her friend’s ability to get information from Brandon or get him out of there.
“I have noticed you’re a patient man,” Brooke said. “But Chloe is a very stubborn woman.”
His grin widened. “I’m very aware of that. I like it.”
“What if she just doesn’t want to be around you?” Brooke asked.
His smile fell completely away, and Chloe felt instant guilt that she was the cause of that look on his face. She didn’t want to hurt the man. He hadn’t done anything to her to warrant her rudeness.
“I just want to see Chloe,” he finally said. Marcy walked up to the two of them, a quizzical look on her young face as she set down a pastry in front of Brandon. Brandon thanked her and picked up the treat, then took a big bite and sighed. “Perfection as usual,” he said.
“You might want to make a graceful exit to show her you’re a bigger man than you appear to be sometimes,” Brooke warned. “Give her a choice of seeing you or not.”
Brandon looked thoughtful for a moment before he chuckled. Then he took another bite of his treat, all without replying. Chloe found herself holding her breath. He finished the pastry and took a large drink of his mocha before looking at Brooke again. Then he stood and pulled out his wallet. He took a few bills out and tossed them on the table.
After picking up his coffee cup, he looked relaxed as he faced Brooke, as if he didn’t have a single care in the world. The man probably didn’t. He was great looking, was beyond wealthy, and carried enough confi
dence for a dozen men. He wasn’t often denied anything he wanted. This had to be a new one for him.
“Tell Chloe I’ll be at my new house,” he said. “I won’t wait long before I come searching for her again,” he added, the words most certainly a promise. “But I’d love it if she came to me instead. We have a lot to talk about.”
“When did you buy a place?” Brooke asked with confusion. “Your brother didn’t say anything about it.”
“That’s because I signed the papers on Friday. Today is moving day. I didn’t want to say anything until it was a done deal. It’s the house on top of Diamond Hill Road.”
Brooke whistled. “Wow! Isn’t that a bit much for a single guy?”
His grin grew. “I don’t plan on being single forever,” he told her with a wink before he looked toward the back of the restaurant again. Chloe would swear her heart stopped at his words.
The giant mansion he’d bought had been empty for some time. It needed a lot of work. And Brooke was right—the place was huge, over five thousand square feet. And it wasn’t that far from her own place. That made her sweat a bit.
“Wow, I guess we’ll be having a housewarming party soon. I’ve always wanted to see the inside of that place.”
“We will indeed. But I’m going to need help making it into a home.” His eyes again looked toward the back, and although Chloe was hidden, she felt as if he could see right into her eyes. Did they have a connection? She wouldn’t admit it if they did.
“I hope you get everything you want, Brandon,” Brooke said. Chloe wanted to shout at her friend that she was the lowest of betrayers.
Brandon just smiled again, turned, and walked out the door as easily as he’d come in. Brooke stood where she was for several moments, and Chloe found herself unable to move. The entire visit had shaken her up.
Finally Brooke turned, and their eyes met through the slit in the doors. Chloe realized she could stop hiding and stepped into the open, signaling for Brooke to come to her. It was better safe than sorry, just in case the man was planning on sneaking back in.
“That was interesting,” Brooke said when she approached.
“I heard the entire conversation,” Chloe said with a sigh.
“I don’t think Brandon is going away until the two of you have a showdown. He isn’t the type to tuck tail and run,” Brooke said.
“Unfortunately I think you’re right,” Chloe said with a sigh. “But I certainly don’t want to meet with him on his territory, and I don’t want it to happen here, either. I don’t know what to do.”
“You could always flee the country,” Brooke suggested with a laugh. Her best friend was truly enjoying herself.
“Thanks for the solid advice,” Chloe told her with an eye roll.
“Maybe just bed the man again. Hot damn, there were more vibes than usual coming off him. I can now understand why you’ve been so uptight lately.”
“Are you afraid you married the wrong brother?” Chloe asked with a forced chuckle.
Brooke’s face turned serious as she looked at Chloe, who was finding it difficult not to fall apart. She pulled Chloe into a hug.
“I love you. Never forget that. And there’s no doubt in my mind that I married the man I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with. Those vibes coming off of Brandon were all for you and only you. I think you have him utterly smitten. You’re going to have to decide if you want his attention or not. And you’re going to have to do it sooner rather than later.”
Chloe’s stomach tightened at the words. She didn’t want to be Brandon’s full focus. If she was, she knew she’d be in a minefield with no chance of escape.
“What should I do?” Chloe asked.
“Go and talk to the man,” Brooke said. “There’s really nothing else you can do.”
Chloe knew her friend was right. But not today and maybe not tomorrow. She had to get herself together first. She’d never been like this with another man. She didn’t want to be like this now.
With that conviction in mind, she decided to take a break. Tomorrow would go better for her—she was sure of it. Tomorrow always made her smile because it meant the possibilities were endless. If a person woke up with a smile, there was nothing they couldn’t accomplish. She’d call it a day so a new one could begin. Then she’d be back to herself and able to think more clearly.
With a plan of motion in place, she left the restaurant with Brooke. She’d figure it out. She always did.
CHAPTER THREE
For years Chloe had been coming to her parents’ cooking school and working with eager young potential chefs. She remembered the first time she’d stepped into a professional kitchen and how scared she’d been. She was so competitive she hadn’t wanted to be anything less than the absolute best.
That was a very difficult task when a person had parents like hers. She’d refused to help at their school when she’d first begun her career. She hadn’t wanted them looking over her shoulder and judging her. She’d been judged her entire life, and she hadn’t wanted to put herself in a place to feel more of it. But her great love of cooking and helping others had finally won over her stubbornness.
Though she was incredibly busy, she filled in for the other teachers when they were sick or on vacation. This weekend, just when her life seemed to be in the most turmoil of all time, she’d been needed to fill in.
“You’re running late,” her father said from the office as she tried to sneak by.
“I know. I’ve got to hurry to make sure everything came in that I ordered,” she said as she tried to slide by.
“Your mother’s down there now checking the inventory,” he told her. “And I haven’t seen you in two months now. You can give me five minutes,” he said with a raise of his eyebrows.
Chloe nodded as she stopped trying to get away and stepped into the front office, where her father stood behind a counter. This wasn’t a typical administrator’s office. Her father had told her long ago that if a person wanted to be the best, then they didn’t have to have the most skill; they just had to have the most drive.
He’d explained to her when she was very young that he wasn’t one of those lucky few who’d been born with a natural ability but that he’d pushed himself by training and practicing every day of his life.
So when he did have to be at the school, he didn’t sit behind a desk doing paperwork. He paid people to do that. He stood in his office at a beautiful counter that had all of his favorite kitchen appliances and tools.
Her father never stopped creating. He came up with new recipes and new ways of preparing ordinary foods that made them into coveted dishes. There were still a few secrets he’d been able to closely guard from the greedy hands of those who’d love to bottle and distribute his creations. He did this by keeping the recipe in his head instead of on a computer, where there was a chance of it being hacked.
“It smells delicious in here, Father. What are you making?”
It was so ingrained in Chloe to call her parents Mother and Father that she never slipped. Most children said Mom, Ma, Pa, Daddy, or any of the other abbreviated versions. But from the time Chloe was a toddler, she’d been taught that it was Mother and Father.
They’d taught her a lot in life about respect. They simply didn’t understand children growing up and having children, then allowing those children to disrespect them. They said their life was literally owed to their parents. Some might scoff at that. But the bottom line was that it was true.
They’d also told her that didn’t give a parent the right to abuse that privilege and that children were owed respect and dignity, too. A parent didn’t have a child for them to become a Mini-Me version of the parent, but to grow into their own person and make a path for the next generation. It was a great line that, if done right, would go on forever.
“Today is dessert day,” her father, Donovan—not Donny, not Don, only Donovan—said with a smile. When her father made his sugary confections, she always saw him lighten up. He truly enjo
yed creating mouthwatering sweets, which was probably why it was her favorite course to cook as well.
“Ah, food for the soul,” she said as she leaned in and peeked in the oven. It appeared to be a sort of cinnamon roll. Though nothing he made could be described so simply as cinnamon roll. An ooey-gooey masterpiece was what it was.
The timer went off, and her father moved to the oven and looked inside for a moment before deciding it was time for it to come out. He never opened the door unless he knew it was done. He said the slightest fluctuation of heat could ruin a once-perfect creation.
“I know most people say soul food is country fried, but we all know that the way to anyone’s heart is dessert,” he said. The smell that had been invading the large space had been stomach-rumbling good before the door to the oven had opened. When the door came down, the smell was enough to drop a person to their knees.
“Please, please, please tell me this isn’t a dish that has to sit and breathe,” she said, her eyes almost watering she wanted a bite so bad.
He laughed, true joy coming through in his voice. It was the only time she got to see her dad really free. When he was simply creating on his own without eyes on him, his tough exterior fell, and she could see the little boy inside, the person who’d obviously made her mother fall in love with him.
Chloe had seen a lot of reasons her parents had fallen in love. Yes, they were stern and wanted nothing less than perfection from their only child, but when they didn’t know eyes were upon them, there was a softness in them she wished they’d show to her more often.
At least she knew she was loved, and at least they’d taught her to be strong and independent. It was so much better than them either not caring at all or not preparing her for the world. When she saw many college-age kids with no idea what they were going to do with their futures, she could appreciate her parents so much more.
“You always have had quite the sweet tooth. It’s a good thing you have your mother’s metabolism,” her dad said. He carefully set the dish down on the counter and pulled out two plates. She waited.