Love à la Carte, page 1
Table of Contents
Excerpt
Praise for Carol Henry and…
Love à la Carte
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
A word about the author…
Thank you for purchasing
Nate slid to a stop and did a double-take, mouth open. Had he just seen Chantel St. Ives, suitcase in hand, heading down the hallway toward his section of the inn? Oh, hell no! What was Jared thinking? He’d distinctly instructed his reservation clerk that there were to be no newspeople registered in any of the rooms next to his quarters—and that included his living space. Two other rooms, away from his, were to be used for that purpose.
And Chantel, of all people. No way!
What in the hell was she doing here in Willow Springs? At Deerbourne Inn? Her being booked into an inn that he owned couldn’t simply be a coincidence. How had she found him? What the hell did she want?
Praise for Carol Henry and…
CAIRO CONNECTION:
“The descriptions as the characters walked down the street in Cairo, entered the plush accommodations, visited a spice and open-air market, you could see, feel, and smell just like you were with them. …The attraction between Megan and Jordan sizzled as they tried to stay apart…a fantastic read.”
~Tena Stetler, author
CIARA’S HOMECOMING CHRISTMAS:
“Author Carol Henry writes down-to-earth characters who struggle with realistic decisions. Her solid descriptions of setting and place pull the reader into the story and have the reader cheering for the couple. This novella is a quick, heartwarming, and enjoyable holiday read.”
~ J.A. Davis, author
Love à la Carte
by
Carol Henry
Deerbourne Inn Series
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Love à la Carte
COPYRIGHT © 2022 by Carol A. Henry
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com
Cover Art by The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Edition, 2023
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-4787-5
Deerbourne Inn Series
Published in the United States of America
Chapter One
Nate couldn’t believe it had been over a year since he left New York City behind, his tail tucked between his legs, more or less. Who would have believed he could have transformed the historic and derelict 1750s Deerbourne Inn homestead into such a success in so short a time? Adding on the solarium and transforming it into the Red Clover Restaurant, with a large deck out back, was an added bonus.
Now, sitting in the gazebo, he raised a crystal glass filled with one of Vermont’s best wines in salute toward the backyard’s evening twilight and then toward his sister, Victoria, and cousin Liz, both with glasses raised.
“So, here is to Bertha Deerbourne, our beloved friend and generous benefactor,” Nate toasted.
“You’ve put a lot of hard work into revitalizing Deerbourne Inn. Being a top master chef has helped,” Victoria stated after sipping her wine. “The community has been very welcoming.”
“The end result has paid off,” Liz commented. “I’m so glad I was able to have been a part of it.”
“I couldn’t have done it without both of you and your support.” Nate drank deeply from his glass, leaned back in the outdoor recliner, and rested his arm on the glass table, goblet in hand, contemplating his success and the two women who had stood by him. Dr. Victoria Harte who continued her work with returning veterans with mental and physical wounds. He smiled as he took in her tall, slender, well-toned body with a full head of red hair. And his cousin, a full-bodied, blonde widow in her late twenties with two young children, who had taken over housekeeping duties for him. He would be forever grateful.
“I’ve got to say having this wonderful countryside setting in the middle of Vermont has been a big plus for my program,” Victoria agreed, her arm extended toward the inn’s grounds.
“You don’t miss your medical practice in the city?” Liz asked.
“Not at all,” Victoria answered. “In fact, it’s been a bit more relaxing. I love the slower pace.”
“I’m glad it agrees with you,” Nate said. “I thought for sure you’d head back to Manhattan within two months.” Actually, he was surprised he didn’t miss city life either.
“I’ve enjoyed spending more time here with you and Liz,” Victoria admitted with a smile. “And Liz’s two kids certainly keep things interesting.”
“They can be a handful,” Liz agreed, laughing along with them.
“Yes, but they do add a bit of fun to the mix.” Nate chuckled, shaking his head. He’d never thought much about kids, but having John and Sara underfoot on occasion had been a pleasure. And enlightening. He wouldn’t mind having children of his own someday.
“You don’t mind then if they attend your award ceremony?”
“Not at all. In fact, I’ve wanted to go over a few things with you in regards to the arrangements.”
“Like you haven’t got things already pulled together,” Liz chided. Both she and Victoria shook their heads and laughed at him.
“Thought I heard voices out here.” Jared Langford, the inn’s receptionist, stood in the entryway, hands on hips. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’m signing out for the night and wanted to get your suggestions for bookings over the next two weeks. What with the big gala coming up, I suspect we’ll have a few newspeople wanting to attend. Should I reserve the suites on the main floor or the upper level?”
“Perhaps a couple rooms on each floor. Whoever books first gets their choice. The rest will have to take what’s available. But whatever you do, do not put reporters next to my apartment on the first floor.”
“Understood.”
“I appreciate all your organizational skills and your great rapport with the customers.” Nate stood, poured a glass of wine in one of the remaining goblets, and handed it to Jared. “Here, have a glass of wine with us. Help us celebrate.”
Jared had practically waltzed in, taken over management of the reception area with his computer savvy and outgoing personality, and become the best registration clerk any inn owner could ask for.
“Ah, thanks.” Jared took the glass and raised it in salute with the others. “I enjoy being a part of the team. Everyone has been very accepting. I wasn’t sure how they’d feel about me and Xander.”
“You’re a good person with a great personality. Again, well appreciated.” While they weren’t the first gay couple Nathan had known, they were the first out-of-the-closet couple in the town. He was proud that the community had simply accepted them.
“Does that mean I get a raise?” Jared chuckled.
“I’ll toast to that.” Victoria smiled, raising her glass and then sipping along with the others.
“I’ll take it under consideration.” Nathan knew Jared was only half serious. But with the overall success of the business and Jared’s keen sense of how to handle people, not to mention dealing with tight and difficult booking situations, a raise was in order. But first he had to get through his National Cooking Day celebration. As a top professional culinary master chef, he would celebrate only one way—with a big spread of his favorite famous dishes. Thankfully, he had a top-notch sous chef he’d recently hired to help out in the kitchen. September twenty-fifth was only two weeks away. Tomorrow he’d get things organized, pull the staff together, and go over the invitations. But tonight he was going to sit back, relax with family and a dear friend, and thank his lucky stars that things were finally falling into place.
He sipped the remainder of his wine and let the warmth of the evening surround him, savoring his success. And the fact that he was about to receive the Restaurant of the Year Award from the Vermont Food Association.
Aaahh, life was good.
The following morning’s routine went smoothly. Preparation for the evening entrées was underway, and the aroma of chicken fettucine Alfredo filled the busy kitchen. The pulsating fans overhead sent the fragrance throughout the café. The essence followed Nate as he opened the door to the hallway where he crossed the reception area and headed to his office next to the media room. He’d only gone three steps before bumping into his sister.
“Just the person I wanted to see.” Victoria grinned.
“On the way to my office. Join me?”
He continued walking, knowing his sister would be right behind him. This morning her ginger hair was pulled back in a braid. Her slenderness was accentuated with form-fitting black slacks and a long-sleeved green pullover. Her usual no-nonsense slip-on sneakers were silent as she followed him. He waved to Jared, behind the registration counter, and nodded to a couple who had just entered the inn. Leaf-peeping visitors coming to Willow Springs to check out the fall colors and stay at his inn was good for business.
“So, what’s up, Victoria? Is everything okay with your two new veterans? Have they settled into their cabins?”
“Yes. It always takes a while for them to get comfortable and relax—as much as they can. But that’s not what has me worried.”
“How can I help?”
“Actually, I don’t need your help as much as you need help. I’ve heard more rumors around town about the skeleton they found in the old quarry. They’re more than convinced that it belonged to Bertha’s fiancé, Matthew, especially after they found his dog tags in the attic.”
Word about town was that Bertha’s fiancé had been a Vietnam vet who was wounded and suffered from PTSD. He’d taken his rifle and walked into the forest and never returned. Bertha, realizing she was pregnant, had decided to give her child up for adoption and moved to New York City. Now, some fifty years later, they had recently discovered Bertha’s fiancé’s skeleton in the old dried-up quarry and were literally digging up the past.
“They’re still talking about that? Good Lord. There has to be something else this town can talk about. Besides, what has that got to do with me? Why do I need help?” Nate stood next to the window overlooking the front yard. “Maybe they could bury his remains next to Bertha’s in the family cemetery. Would that quiet things down? Lay it to rest?” He was surprised they hadn’t thought of that already. Bertha had been buried in the Deerbourne family plot in Willow Springs.
“Good idea. I’ll mention it to Sheriff Burke. But they need family approval, and since there is no family to speak of, it isn’t an option. She said she wants forensics to dig deeper. Still, we are the ones who inherited Bertha’s estate. People are still wondering how that came about.”
Bertha had been ninety years old when she passed. But he and Bertha had struck up a friendship back in New York. She’d owned a successful art gallery in Manhattan and would visit his New York restaurant two or three times a week. She’d been his mentor, his friend. She’d seen potential in him when others had not. Still, he’d been surprised when she bequeathed her family’s estate to him and Victoria.
“Long story short? I don’t really know, other than the three of us became good friends while we lived in the city,” Nate admitted. He combed his hand through his hair in frustration. “In all that time I never heard her talk about members of her family. But I have been ever so grateful to her. It was good timing and a much needed change in my life and career.”
“Mine as well,” Victoria agreed. “Still, I’m worried that this is all going to blow up and ruin your big event. Karen has been digging further into the skeleton mystery and its connection to Deerbourne Inn. There have been several national cold cases that were solved through DNA analysis and genealogical research. She thought she’d go that route. And as you know, I’ve been using data files to help with my wounded warrior project, especially the physically and mentally disabled vets. It has actually helped many overcome some of their problems. They’ve been able to find out more about their families and themselves. I’ve seen improvements in their mental health. I’ve delved into our own genealogy, as well. Sent in my DNA to participate in the ongoing project.”
“Yes, you’ve mentioned your interest a time or two. Not knowing our family’s roots always bothered you. As you know, I’ve been too busy with the inn and restaurant, as well as my job back in New York, to think about it.”
“Karen says she’ll keep me posted, but it hasn’t stopped the chatter around town. I don’t want things to blow up during your event. Just wanted you to be aware.”
“Duly noted.”
Just when he thought the townspeople had laid this discovery to rest, it was resurfacing. And he could do nothing to stop it. Darn it. He didn’t need anything to go wrong, like the bad review back in New York City that had cost him his ratings, thus his livelihood. He couldn’t afford to lose out on another restaurant.
It still gnawed at him. He couldn’t seem to let it go no matter how hard he’d tried. Chantel. And that terrible review. Why had she done it? He had dated her—a food and wine critic for top journals—for months, and their relationship had been progressing. In all that time, she had only given him rave reviews. Until that last review that sank his credibility as a top chef in Manhattan. Not only did it hit his career hard, it had caused his breakup with Chantel St. Ives.
****
Chantel St. Ives couldn’t believe what she was reading in the latest food tabloid. Nathan Harte was being awarded the Restaurant of the Year Award. In Willow Springs, Vermont, of all places. So that was where he had disappeared to a little over a year ago. And without so much as a simple goodbye. Of course, thinking back after all this time, she couldn’t blame him. It was partly her fault. Thanks to her boss, Dustin Seamoore. Dustin had dissed Nate’s professionalism and stellar reputation as a top chef in his tabloids for all the world to see. The fiend had edited her review prior to publishing it in order to turn her review negative.
Not only had the review put a dent in Nate’s reputation in the city, but it also brought an abrupt end to their relationship. A relationship that she’d longed to rekindle over this past year and tried unsuccessfully to figure out how to fix. How to find him. She missed Nate something awful. Missed his kisses, his lovemaking, and just simply being held in his arms and in his company. They’d been ready to commit to the next step—moving in together.
Now was her chance. Now that she knew where he had disappeared, she was going to take this opportunity to apologize and do whatever it took to mend their relationship and set the record straight.
Chantel reached for her cell phone sitting next to her on the table. She stood, leaned over the balcony overlooking Manhattan, and searched for the Deerbourne Inn’s number. As it rang, she closed her eyes, waiting for someone to answer. Hoping it wouldn’t be Nate.
Thankfully, a flamboyant voice answered. Within seconds a room with her name on it was reserved for the following week. She bit her bottom lip, held the phone to her chest, and gazed, unseeing, at the night sky. Was she doing the right thing? Would Nate be glad to see her? Or would he banish her from his inn? She dashed inside, clicked on her computer, and keyed in a request for directions to Willow Springs and the Deerbourne Inn.
Chapter Two
Chantel entered through the heavy oak doors of the Deerbourne Inn and stood in awe. A wide archway to her right opened into a large parlor with oriental rugs, overstuffed furniture, crocheted doilies and brass lamps on the side tables, and a roll-top desk and oak chair to the side. The large fireplace with a polished granite hearth and mantel added an ambiance to warm anyone’s soul. A series of watercolors of Vermont landscapes dotted the walls, eye-catching and professionally done. It was homey. She eyed the exquisite birch paneling to her right and headed straight to the registration desk.
“Welcome to Deerbourne Inn. My name is Jared. I hope you have reservations, because we are booked for the week.” His wide and engaging smile was warm and welcoming.
“Yes, I do have a reservation. I’m very excited to be here for the Restaurant of the Year Award event!”
“Excellent!”
She signed her name to the registry and accepted the key to her room, surprised to discover that they had reserved a room on the first floor. Jared assured her Liz, the inn’s housekeeper, had her room ready. She thanked him and then wheeled her small luggage to her appointed room. She opened the paneled oak door to a simple but beautifully appointed haven. A crystal bowl of dried flower potpourri scented the air.
Several additional Vermont landscape prints accented the pale-blue walls and were hung between the two tall windows. She wheeled her suitcase over to the old-fashioned maple chifforobe and set it aside. She had plenty of time to deal with its contents tomorrow. Right now the queen-sized bed beckoned. She couldn’t believe she’d actually checked in and made it to her room without Nathan spotting her. Tired from her long, exhaustive drive, she wanted nothing more than to flop on the bed and get a good night’s sleep before facing Nate.
She took in a deep breath, let it out slow and even, and turned to find a small private bath to the left of the room. It wasn’t as large as she’d expected for an inn this size, but it was cozy and welcoming. And had all the necessary elements she needed. A big plus was the media room she’d spotted on her way down the hall. Handy for sending off the review she’d been working on before leaving to go back to the city.
