Second Chance at the Orchard Inn, page 9
The potato-and-veggie hash was finished just before her quiche Lorraine came out of the oven. She served up the dishes at eight thirty—as scheduled.
Even after breakfast service, Aurora’s brain still buzzed with thoughts of the past. Between her time with Jude, Erica freaking Burr on the agenda for a wedding, their mom wanting to see them, her sisters, their future at the inn—what had she expected coming back here, living in the belly of her history?
Of course she’d collide with her past.
When her mind got too busy, there was only one thing that would center her.
A new recipe.
And she felt like baking something.
She grabbed the flour, sugar, butter, salt, eggs, and vanilla, with no idea what she might make. Didn’t matter, these were the base of so many options, so she started sifting.
Stirring and whisking acted as her therapy. Rolling and pressing were like meditative yoga. A crust came together mindlessly. She popped it in the oven and contemplated a filling.
She’d cooked enough with peaches lately. Strawberries were a little late in the season and she’d had plenty of them too. Actually, she wasn’t in the mood for fruit at all. That left chocolate, custards, creams…
“Ooo, something gooey,” she said to herself. Something sweet and comforting.
“Honey.”
In a rush, she heated honey in a small pot. After digging around in the pantry for far too long, she settled on it.
Culinary lavender.
She threw the lavender in the pot and let it steep. After five minutes, she strained the honey and whisked in eggs, butter, and vanilla. A pinch of salt and “Voilà!”
Aurora poured in the filling and slid the pie back into the oven. Setting a timer, she sighed.
This was either going to be delicious and unique, a stroke of genius, or it was going to be a disgusting globby mess. Either way, she wasn’t going to read into why she’d chosen lavender and honey for this recipe. She’d write it off as inspiration from the sights and sounds of yesterday, and nothing more. Certainly not the man who’d set up shop in her dreams and woke her in the wee hours.
Half an hour later, her pie wasn’t a globby mess at all. Golden across the top, a little darker near the crust, custard-like in consistency, and it smelled divine.
“What smells so good?” Beth returned to the kitchen, nose first.
“I’m trying out a new recipe.”
Cece joined them, leaning over to inspect her creation.
“Back up off the pie. She needs a while to set up. It’s a custard base, so let’s err on the side of patience.”
Something none of them had.
“How patient are we talking?” Cece asked. “Five minutes? Ten minutes?”
“Twenty to thirty.”
Her sisters complained dramatically, but they dispersed from the kitchen and returned exactly twenty minutes later.
“It’s probably still too soon, but fine.” Aurora cut three pieces for them, serving the slices on dessert plates with sprigs of lavender as accents.
Sometimes, if the finished product wasn’t perfect, a little presentation helped.
The pie was firm, but a few more minutes would’ve helped. This didn’t seem to matter to Beth, because she dug into hers right away.
Closing her eyes, she hummed as she tasted.
Silly as it might seem, this being an impromptu recipe, tried by her nearest and dearest family, Aurora still got a pang of anxiety when someone ate her food.
Beth drew out her hum, which was a good sign.
Cece tried a bite of her slice and immediately went in for a second. “This is out of this world.”
“Seriously.” Beth nodded. “It’s so different. Creamy and subtle. I taste the honey, but it’s not too sweet. It’s comforting.”
Cece nodded. “This is what you should enter in the pie contest.”
“Yes!” Beth clapped her hands together.
“I’m not doing the pie contest.”
“Um…” Cece took another bite.
“Cece!”
“What? I know you didn’t want to, but one of the judges is a publisher at Prescott Press out of Austin. She’s going to feature the winning pie in a new dessert cookbook, so, in the off chance you’re still here for the jamboree, why not enter?”
Because chances were almost certain she wouldn’t be here.
“You have to do it.” Beth leaned forward, with that wild look in her eyes she got whenever she wanted to accomplish something—whether it be for herself or someone in her immediate vicinity. “This pie would win. It’s not the same old apple or peach.”
“Do it,” Cece commanded.
“I doubt I’ll still be here for the jamboree. I don’t know my timetable yet.”
“Then if you aren’t here, I’ll cancel your entry. Problem solved.”
“Haven’t you ever thought about being in a cookbook?” Beth asked.
“Yeah.” It wasn’t at the top of her list, but every chef thought about it. “I’ve thought about a lot of things.”
Beth’s enthusiasm ticked down a few notches, her gaze growing somber.
Her sister wasn’t just thinking about a cookbook now. She knew being at the Orchard Inn wasn’t Aurora’s life goal and, while they’d both enjoyed the last few months, and had grown as a result of working together, things wouldn’t stay this way forever.
“Let’s just keep the entry for now,” Beth said. “What could it hurt?”
Aurora’s phone rang on the counter, making her jump.
“I better get that.”
“And the contest entry?” Cece raised both eyebrows hopefully.
Aurora groaned, but she couldn’t say no to that face. “Fine. But don’t get mad at me if you have to cancel or bake a pie in my absence.” She grabbed her phone and headed outside, needing some air.
“Hey, Sloane,” she answered, seeing the ID. She didn’t ask what was up, because her friend required no segue when it came to actual phone calls. Sloane was a texter by nature. If she was calling you, it was either an emergency or emergency-level gossip.
“Mark is opening a new restaurant in Malibu!” Sloane was basically panting with excitement.
Aurora blinked.
Mark was their boss, and a partner at their restaurant group. Aurora’s current restaurant was his last project. There’d been rumors about a new place, but she thought it’d be next year before they picked a location. “I didn’t think he’d choose Malibu.”
“Did you hear what I said? A new restaurant, Aurora. And I’ve heard you are at the top of his list to open it.”
“You think he’d choose me?”
“That’s the word going around.”
Sloane’s gossip was rarely wrong.
“What’s the cuisine? What’s the style?”
“I’m still digging around for those details, but you’ve got to be a shoo-in. You’re next up for the opportunity. Who is he going to have do it, Jon?” The disdain in Sloane’s voice was almost comical.
“Mark could hire someone new. Depending on the direction of the menu, he could hire someone fluent in that area.”
She’d seen chefs have the rug jerked out from under them before.
“No way he trusts someone new.”
True. Her boss would need to have a lot of faith in someone to trust them with a new restaurant, especially his first venture in Malibu.
“Sloane, I’ve been gone for a while now. What if I ruined this chance because of my responsibilities here? He’ll want someone who is married to the restaurant. Someone dependable.”
“You’re dependable! You told him you’d be gone no more than a quarter, and it’s been two months. He knows the inn is an investment for you and your sisters. He’d do the same thing if it were his family.”
Aurora was grateful to still have a job, never mind this kind of promotion.
“He’ll probably be calling you in the next few days. When will you be back anyway? Next week or so?”
“Uh, yeah. Yes. I need to place a chef here, and then I’m back.”
“Perfect. And mum’s the word on what I told you too.”
Aurora smiled. “Naturally.”
“All right, I’ve gotta run. Post some more pics on Insta, okay? It’s been a while.”
“Will do.”
Aurora hung up, her limbs suddenly heavy, her heart pounding.
“Hey.” Cece popped her head out the front door. “Everything okay?” She came out onto the front porch when Aurora didn’t answer immediately, walking over to join her on the porch swing.
After a moment, Aurora finally answered. “Yeah.”
Things weren’t great. Her head was all over the place.
Her life, her job in L.A.—they wouldn’t wait. She needed to go back as soon as possible, if she wanted this window of opportunity to remain open. But she still needed to make sure her sisters were set up with a chef, and now she wanted to settle things between her and Jude, so they could both make peace.
Being head chef of a restaurant was the dream, so why were all these obstacles filling her mind? Why did she hesitate?
She needed to talk to Beth and Cece, let them know she had that timetable now. There would be emotions, maybe some tears, but they all knew this was coming. It’d been part of the deal from the outset. She could talk to Jude tomorrow, and settle the unrest of their history. Then she could go back to California free and clear. Nothing holding her back.
This thought shouldn’t trouble her. It shouldn’t twist her heart in a knot.
Her sisters weren’t going to be mad at her. She didn’t owe Jude any more than one quick chat. This was the plan. It had always been the plan, and she was being silly.
“You sure there’s nothing you want to talk about?” Cece gently swung them.
“I’m sure,” Aurora fibbed.
Her sister nodded. “Well, I’m here if that changes.”
“I know.”
Her sisters were always there for her.
“You want me to help you make that corn for dinner tonight?” Cece asked, still rocking them gently.
“I could use the help.”
“Gladly. I’ll even cut the tomatoes and cucumbers, but the fried okra is all you.”
Aurora chuckled. “You know how long it’s been since I fried okra?”
“Not a lot of okra fans in L.A.”
“Not really.” Aurora slouched down and relaxed into the sway of the swing.
A chirping came from Cece’s vicinity. She dug into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out her phone. “It’s Mom.” She stared at the screen.
Their mom communicated mostly with Cece, occasionally with Beth, and rarely with Aurora.
“Hey, Mom,” Cece answered. “Yeah, we’re all good. Uh-huh. Yeah.”
Their conversation went on like this for a minute or two, with mostly monosyllabic answers from Cece.
“Uh, I think we can do that. Sure, after checkout. Yes, we have other staff here to cover it. Mom, we got it. It’s fine. Okay, see you then. Love you too. Bye.”
Cece tapped her phone to end the call, and Aurora refused to acknowledge any jealousy over how easily they could say they loved each other.
“We’re having lunch at Mom’s tomorrow,” her sister announced.
Aurora sat up straight. “Says who?”
“Says me and Mom.”
“Cece, I have things to do tomorrow. I have two chefs’ résumés to review now.” And a life to contemplate. “I can’t spend all day at Mom’s.”
“It won’t be all day. She sounded like it was something really important though, so we’re going.”
“We all have to go?”
Her younger sister did an amazing impression of Beth’s firm stare. “Yes, we all have to go.”
Chapter 10
Stop fondling the rosemary.” Jenna clipped her snippers in Bonnie’s direction.
“But it’s my favorite smell.” Bonnie ran her fingers up the frond, stirring the scent, and held her hand up to her nose. “It’s so fresh and clean.”
“Then sniff and clip at the same time.”
Jude held his freshly clipped rosemary to his nose. It was delightful. Not as good as lavender or mint, but it was up there in the top smell category.
He’d begun working in the herb garden as the sun came up, eager to dive into manual labor and forget about yesterday.
Finally, he’d worked up the gumption to address the past with Aurora and apologize—something he’d failed to do ten years ago. They’d made progress during their time together, wandering the farm. They’d walked and talked—and touched.
Jude shook off that thought.
They’d even talked business, and the future of the farm, both things he never thought they’d discuss again. But then, when he opened the door to address the elephant in the room, Aurora had taken off.
Wouldn’t be the first time she ran away.
“Jude.” His dad made his way down the row of herbs, swiping a cloth across his brow. “We probably have enough for tomorrow.”
They didn’t have nearly enough, but his dad was tiring out. “Why don’t you go on up to the house, and we’ll join you in a sec.”
“I don’t need to go up to the house.”
“Mom is up there with Wyatt. She could probably use help with dinner.”
“Don’t use your mother as an excuse to get rid of me.”
There he went again. “I’m not trying to get rid of you.”
“Come on, Dad.” Jenna stepped in. “I need to go check on Wyatt, and it’ll give us a chance to talk about building his train table.”
His sisters were so much better at managing their dad than he was.
“Okay, but only because you need me,” their father grumbled.
Bonnie and Jude watched the two of them head toward the house.
“What are the chances he complains to Mom that we ran him off?” Bonnie asked.
“One hundred percent,” Jude answered. “More, if it were mathematically possible.”
“I don’t get it. He’s got three kids, perfectly capable of running the farm, but it’s like he thinks we’ll—I don’t know—burn the whole thing to the ground, all in twenty-four hours.”
“I know.”
Bonnie moved across from him to pick mint. “Have you talked to him yet?”
“No. I have to find the right time.”
“When’s the right time? Just do it,” she insisted.
“That is not how Dad works, and you should know it. If you want to handle that little talk, go right ahead.”
“Oh no. You’re the oldest, you’re the one who wants to run things someday.”
Jude moved his stool over to the next rosemary bush. “What about you?”
Bonnie busied herself with a patch of mint. “I want work and to help. I want to be involved, not in charge. There’s a big difference.”
“You don’t want to just do odd jobs around the farm though. I know you have ideas. Plans of your own.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe isn’t an answer. I heard you told Aurora about your ideas.”
Bonnie raised her head, her gaze locking with his. “And?”
“And I love your idea. We can’t do it all at once and make half a dozen changes immediately, but—”
“You don’t hate the idea of subscription boxes straight out of the gate?”
“Not at all. These expansions and the growth will take a lot of work though. Way more than what we’re doing right now.”
“I know. So?”
“So, working is all we would have time for, at least for a while. No social life, no vacation time or time off until we get the first project off the ground, be it subscription boxes or a coffee shop or—”
“Or a restaurant,” Bonnie finished for him.
“Or a restaurant. That would take the most time of any project.”
“I know that, Jude.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not afraid of hard work, and neither is Meredith. She can work more hours too.”
“I know, but I want you to understand how it will take over all your time. You’re both young. You may want to go out, go to parties, have fun and meet people. If I ever get Dad’s buy-in and we start even one of these projects, there won’t be any time for parties and boys.”
Bonnie bristled and went back to her mint, snipping angrily. “Maybe we don’t want to party and meet boys. Maybe we’d rather be working here, spending time together, and doing something that matters.”
“Okay, sorry, jeez. I’m just trying to look out for you.”
“I know, but I’m telling you what’s best for me, what I want.” Bonnie clipped at the mint, in danger of taking off a finger. “I’m not some party girl.”
“Good. And be careful with those clippers.” He decided to leave it at that, totally baffled as to why his sister had suddenly gotten her hackles up.
“Good.” She kept clipping. “Maybe you need to worry about what you want. You’re here working more than any of us. Shouldn’t you be out, meeting girls?”
Not this again. “I don’t need to meet anyone.”
His sister’s sharp laugh cut through the air. “You get so annoyed at Dad for being hardheaded, but you’re just as bad.”
“I’m not hardheaded.”
“You’re so hardheaded, you can’t even admit it.”
Jenna rejoined them, short of breath. “What’d I miss?”
Jude stared at Bonnie, across the herb garden. She stared back, silent.
“Nothing,” he finally answered.
“Big brother here was just telling me I should be out partying and meeting boys, instead of helping the family.”
“That’s not what I said at all. I wasn’t telling you to do anything. I was just making sure you knew what you wanted for your future.”
“I know what I want, Jude. Do you? Because I want to be here, working with my family and Meredith.”
“Of course you do.” Jenna comforted her. “And naturally you want to include Meredith. I told you, the two of you have our support.”
Jude looked back and forth between his sisters, suddenly keenly aware he was missing something. “Support with what?”
Jenna’s voice was low as she huddled closer to Bonnie. “You didn’t tell him? I thought you were going to tell him.”
