First Course, page 1
First Course
Episode One
J.A. Armstrong
© Copyright 2017 J.A. Armstrong Books
All Rights Reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced without permission.
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER ONE
Devon Brine paced back and forth across the large kitchen, muttering curses under her breath. How had she ended up in this place? That was the question that had been nagging at her since she had walked into Delmar’s Restaurant earlier that morning. How had she gone from working her way up to head chef at one of New York City’s most famous eateries to searching for a suitable skillet in this dump?
“So? What do you think?” a voice inquired.
Devon took a deep breath before pivoting to face the man behind her. She exhaled slowly as she turned on her heels and came face to face with a familiar stare.
“What?” Bruce Crawford asked.
“What?” Devon returned in challenge.
“You don’t like it?”
Devon closed her eyes, licked her lips, and mentally prepared a civil response.
“Oh, come on, Dev. It’s got potential—admit that much,” Bruce said.
Devon chuckled. “Potential for a disaster movie location. Bruce, what the hell do you expect me to do here? I’m a chef, not a miracle worker.”
“You should have been an actor,” Bruce commented lightly.
“Excuse me?”
“What with all the drama,” he continued. Devon’s eyebrows began to knit in frustration. “Okay, okay,” Bruce held up his hands in mock surrender. “I confess, it needs a little help. But, come on, Devon. This is what we have talked about for years.”
Devon stared at her best friend in disbelief. She had met Bruce Crawford on the playground. It had been their first day of kindergarten. Looking at him now, Devon realized that Bruce had changed very little over the last twenty-five years. At thirty, he was still a dreamer. And, as usual, he relied on Devon to make those dreams somehow translate into reality. Devon shook her head. She had never found the strength to deny him anything. He’d managed to convince her to help him learn how to play baseball. He’d managed to get her to join the school band and take saxophone lessons with him. Bruce had even managed to coax Devon into white water rafting and rock climbing. Once again, Devon Brine found herself unable, or at the very least, unwilling to douse the flames of Bruce Crawford’s dreams, even if those dreams had taken her miles away from her own.
“I must have missed our discussion about catering to the walking dead.”
“See? Dramatic,” Bruce chimed and smiled. “Come on, Dev. It’s not that bad. Look around.”
“I’d prefer not to.”
Bruce sighed. “All right, look, if you really don’t think…”
Devon let her eyes roam over the kitchen again. “We need staff, Bruce.”
“We’ll get staff.”
“We need supplies.”
“You’ve got it,” Bruce promised. “Get me a list.”
Devon walked a few paces away and picked up a small notebook. “Done,” she said as she handed it to her friend.
Bruce opened the cover of the notebook and let his eyes scan the first page, then the second, then the third. “Umm… Dev, this list is pretty long,” he commented. “When do you need this stuff?”
“Depends on when you want this place to open,” Devon replied.
“I was hoping by the end of the month.”
“In that case, about two months ago,” Devon replied with a grin. Bruce’s audible gulp made Devon chuckle. “Guess you’d better get moving, huh?”
Bruce nodded and headed for the door. “Um, Dev?” he turned back to face his friend.
“Yeah?”
“I… Uh… I,” he fumbled.
“Just get the stuff, Solo.”
Bruce smiled at the nickname Devon had given him. He often referred to Devon as Princess. Devon’s parents were wealthy, and she seldom wanted for much. It had begun as an affectionate dig. Admittedly, Bruce had felt a twinge of jealousy now and again. He envied Devon at times as much as he loved her. Devon was strong, determined, and in command of herself. She’d played along with his teasing without comment until one day in the fifth grade. Bruce had challenged Devon to climb a large tree behind her parents’ house. Devon had declined, explaining that getting up was sometimes easier than getting down. Bruce had waved her off and headed for his appointed task, calling her “Princess” along his way. About twenty minutes later, Bruce had found himself stuck, unable to recall the path he had taken, and disoriented by the view from at top. Devon had simply shaken her head. She’d memorized each move he had made in anticipation of a needed rescue.
“Well? Come on, help me!” Bruce had called to his friend. When Devon finally reached Bruce, she had groaned and shaken her head at him. “You are such a princess,” Bruce had chastised her.
Devon had shrugged. “Good thing for you, Solo,” she had replied.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Bruce had asked.
Devon had smiled and offered her friend a quote in reply, “Someone has to save our skins,” she said before directing him down the branches.
Bruce looked back at his friend. He hated to admit it, but it was true. He was great at engineering a scheme. Devon was the person who made his crazy schemes work. “Hey, Dev?”
“What?” Devon began to laugh.
“Thanks.”
“Yeah. Don’t thank me yet.”
***
TWO MONTHS LATER
“Friday? You have got to be kidding me? No, no, it is a big deal, Darlene. No, it is not that simple to find a place on short notice,” Carrie Maynard calmly replied into her phone. “On your budget, Darlene? We will be lucky to get Hamburglar to deliver us a few Happy Meals. No, I am definitely not being overly dramatic. You are being unrealistic.” Carrie feebly attempted to rub away the headache she felt forming in her temples. “I will do what I can, Darlene. Yes, I know. You just remember that when it’s bonus time,” Carrie quipped as she disconnected the call. “Fuck my life,” she mumbled.
“That doesn’t sound good,” Heather Graham commented.
Carrie looked up at her assistant with a half-cocked smile. “It’s Darlene.”
“Enough said,” Heather replied. “What can I do to help?”
“Do you have a direct line to Hamburglar?” Carrie asked, snickering at her joke. Heather narrowed her brow. “Oh, never mind,” Carrie said. She groaned. “Where in hell am I going to find a suitable restaurant for her to entertain Leigh Matthews and company?”
“And company? I know she’s been working on this deal for a while. Who is the company?”
Carrie bit her lip. “The company.”
“Come again?”
“Darlene has taken it upon herself to invite Ms. Matthews and her entire upper echelon to a catered affair. One that will honor our most talented designers.”
“Okay, so she wants to show off our talent?”
“Yes, and that is a good plan—I agree,” Carrie said.
“So, what’s the problem?” Heather asked cautiously.
Carrie blinked several times. “She wants to do it on Friday—no, actually, she has to do it on Friday, since she already made the overture to Leigh.”
“Oh… Well, what about Jordan’s? They love us.”
“Yes, they do. They also cost us half our yearly event budget. This is November.”
“Oh, no.”
Carrie nodded. “Oh, yes. We don’t have this in the budget.”
“So, just tell her. You’re an equal partner,” Heather reminded her boss.
“If only Darlene would remember that before she locks in these bright ideas.”
Heather giggled. Carrie Maynard and Darlene Willis were about as opposite as anyone could hope to find. Heather had often marveled at the friendship the two shared. Darlene was tall, blonde, and blue-eyed. She turned heads the moment she walked into a room. She liked to talk. More than that, Heather had noted, Darlene Willis liked to hear herself talk. Carrie stood in contrast to her partner and best friend. She was short with dark hair and dark eyes. Carrie was hardly quiet, but she had no need to command all the attention in a room. Heather imagined most people would find the pair unlikely friends, much less business partners. Somehow their partnership worked, even when Darlene managed to imbue Carrie with a migraine.
“Auntie!” a shrill squeak broke through the adult conversation in the room.
“Sorry,” a man’s voice followed from behind. “She bolted for your office the second the elevator opened.”
Carrie swiveled in her chair and accepted an excited four-year-old onto her lap. “Hey there, monkey.”
“I’m not a monkey,” the little girl laughed.
“No? Well, you’re climbing, aren’t you?” Carrie pointed out.
“On you!” the girl giggled happily.
“So it would seem,” Carrie agreed as she kissed the girl’s head.
“I am sorry if we interrupted, Carrie,” Tom Willis apologized.
Carrie smiled. “Unless you are sorry for diverting my migraine, stop apologizing.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” he said. “Hi, Heather.”
“Hello, Tom,” Heather acknowledged the man as she left Carrie’s office.
“Okay, CJ, let your Auntie Carrie get back to work, huh? We’ll go find Mommy,” he said. Carrie cringed. “Don’t tell me she’s not here,” Tom said.
“Not telling you anything,” Carrie said. “You guessed.”
Tom rubbed his brow. “Shit,” he muttered.
“Tommy, it’s okay if you need to go,” Carrie said. “CJ can stay with me.”
“I can wait a few minutes,” he said. “I just,” he sighed again. “I’m supposed to meet someone at five-thirty.”
Carrie smiled. She’d always liked Tom. She had been glad when Darlene had met Tom, and even happier when the two had married. She’d hoped that marriage might taper some of Darlene’s self-absorbed tendencies. Unfortunately, even the doting Tom Willis failed in that endeavor. Darlene liked to move—constantly. Tom had always seemed to treasure downtime. The attraction between her friends had made perfect sense. Darlene was gorgeous, bright, and funny. Tom was handsome, successful, and kind. Carrie had hoped that the pair would be able to make a go of their marriage long-term. A year after Carrie’s namesake had been born, Darlene and Tom had split. Fortunately, they remained amicable. Carrie was grateful for that. She had come to value Tom’s friendship, and she adored her Goddaughter.
“It’s okay, Tommy,” Carrie assured her friend.
“Do you have any idea when she’ll be back?” Tom asked, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. Carrie’s lopsided grin gave him the answer he had expected. “I can’t believe she…”
Carrie gently moved to stand with CJ in her arms. She sat the little girl back in the office chair and winked at her. “Let me talk to Daddy for a second, okay? Then you and I will find something to do,” Carrie said. CJ nodded happily and began to push off the desk, swiveling the chair around and round. “Tom,” Carrie pulled the man aside.
“I’m sorry, Carrie. She… I know she doesn’t mean to do it, but it is her weekend. I can break my plans, but…”
“I’m sure that you can break them, but you don’t have to,” Carrie said.
“Where is she?” he asked.
“Working on the Matthews account,” Carrie explained.
“Leigh Matthews?”
“That’d be the one,” Carrie said. She saw Tom bristle slightly and sighed. “Tommy…”
“I’m sorry, it’s just that she’s blown off two visits with CJ to meet with this woman. I mean, what the hell, Carrie?”
Carrie hated to admit it, but Darlene could be incredibly selfish at times. Once Darlene set her mind to something, she often couldn’t see anything but a pinpoint of light at the end of a tunnel that represented her end goal. Everyone and everything else faded into obscurity for Darlene. Carrie had experienced that firsthand on more than a few occasions, not the least of which had been when Darlene had set her sights on Tom Willis. Carrie had hoped that the one person who would escape Darlene’s propensity to fixate would be Carrie Jane. It seemed that even Darlene’s daughter was not immune to her mother’s tunnel vision. Carrie was aware that Darlene had made plans to head to Maine with Leigh Matthews and Leigh’s vice president, Doug Warner for the weekend.
“Tommy…”
“Don’t tell me; let me guess. She’s got plans; right? Again. Jesus. I’ll call and cancel my date.”
“Date, huh?” Carrie brightened. Tom shook his head sadly. “No, you won’t,” Carrie told him. “I told you, CJ can stay with me.”
“I’m not going to impose on your weekend plans.”
“Weekend plans?” Carrie laughed. “What plans might those be? Me, a pint of Ben and Jerry’s, and a Star Wars marathon. Gee, that would be tragic.”
Tom chuckled. “It’s not your responsibility, Carrie. You shouldn’t have to change your plans.”
“Who says I am? CJ is my namesake. She can watch Star Wars and eat ice cream with the best of them. We’ll just do the cartoons instead.”
“Carrie…”
“Tom,” Carrie replied in kind.
“Are you sure?”
“Sure, I’m sure.”
“I owe you.”
Carrie patted Tom’s arm. “No, you don’t. But, I do accept cash gifts and ice cream.”
Tom laughed. “I’m serious. This is not the first time you bailed her out and bailed me out in the process. I can pick CJ up in the morning.”
“You can if you want to,” Carrie said. “But, you don’t have to.”
“You really want to spend your weekend with a four-year-old?”
Carrie shrugged. “I’m up for some company.”
“I will figure out some way to repay you; I swear.”
“Find me an affordable restaurant with excellent food that’s available this Friday. One that can pull off an elegant private dinner for the price of my Ben and Jerry’s. Do that? I’ll take custody of the monkey for a whole month,” Carrie said.
“Oh no, she rooked you into some crazy scheme again; didn’t she?”
“Like always,” Carrie said. “Make the promise without the plan—you know Dar.”
Tom smiled sympathetically. “She’s good at that.”
“Yes, she is,” Carrie agreed. It felt good to have someone to commiserate with. Carrie was sure that Tom still loved Darlene. Carrie loved Darlene. This discussion, however, was indicative of why it was so difficult to be in Darlene’s life at times. Sometimes you were at its center; sometimes you were in another universe.
“Actually,” Tom said. “I might be able to help you with that problem.”
“You’re kidding,” Carrie mused in disbelief.
“No. I have a friend who opened up a new place about a month ago. Still trying to build the business. Not easy.”
“No, I can’t imagine it is,” Carrie agreed. New Haven, Connecticut held a myriad of dining options that ranged in taste from greasy spoons to fusion, world cuisine to vegan delights. Carrie and Darlene had many clients in the restaurant business, and Carrie had seen many of her favorite places go belly up in recent years. “D. and B.’s, I never heard of it,” Carrie commented.
“It used to be Delmar’s. They changed the name when they reopened it.”
Delmar’s had been a popular steak and chop house for decades. Carrie remembered it well. “I don’t know, Tommy. Leigh Matthews and her cronies…”
Tom laughed. “Not a big fan of this account, I take it.”
Carrie shrugged. “It’d be a great account to land,” she admitted.
It would be. Matthews and Mack was a growing real estate development firm. They had opened two luxury hotels in the last two years—both successful endeavors. Leigh Matthews had met Carrie through a mutual friend at a party. The two had begun talking about work and building a business. When Leigh found out that Carrie was in the interior decorating business, she immediately suggested they have a formal conversation. That was the moment Darlene stepped in. Carrie had felt eclipsed in the equation. That frustrated her. Most people didn’t understand Carrie’s frustration. She and Darlene were equal partners. That meant they made equal profit. Darlene was the face of Maynard & Willis. She was also its creative side. Carrie was the brains and the brawn. More often than Carrie cared to admit, she felt dismissed by Darlene. Darlene was a fantastic saleswoman. The problem was that she often pitched promises that the business would be hard-pressed to deliver. That sent Carrie into overdrive—damage control first, then repair, then polish. Darlene started the deal. Carrie was the silent closer.
“Okay? Not a fan of Ms. Matthews?” Tom guessed.
Carrie shrugged. “Not a fan of what she brings out in Dar.”
Tom nodded his understanding. “Listen, I’ll see if I can get in touch with my friend; okay? Are you sure you are okay being on auntie duty all weekend?” he asked.
Carrie glanced over at CJ who was still happily spinning in Carrie’s office chair. “Totally.”
“You know, I don’t know what any of us would do without you,” Tom said sincerely.
Carrie shrugged off the sentiment. “You’d figure it out,” she replied. “So,” Carrie turned her attention to the little girl occupying her office chair. “What do you think about spending the weekend with your favorite aunt?” she asked CJ
“You?” CJ asked. Carrie feigned a broken heart and pouted. CJ stumbled from the chair into Carrie’s arms. “I love you, Auntie.”
“I love you too, monkey,” Carrie laughed. “So? What do you think?”
“Pizza?” CJ asked.
