“Oh, give me a break,” Gabe muttered. “That’s not clever. It’s so obvious that…well…it’s just obvious.”
“Nick was watching her, too.”
Gabe sucked a short breath in between his teeth. He didn’t want his grandson to be as obvious as that Marcus kid.
“You’d have to be blind not to watch her,” Gabe said. “In case you didn’t notice, she’s an eyeful.” And exactly what his Nick needed to ease back into life—a spunky, beautiful girl, who knew how to cook.
Even though he thought Nick had a much better shot at catching her eye than Marcus did, he was now feeling a whole lot better about setting things up so that the two of them had a chance to talk again—without eight other guys and hawkeyed Lois there to watch them.
“YOU WERE WONDERFUL with them,” Lois said after the last guy had taken off his apron and headed out to the Candlewood van. As near as Eden could tell after two meetings, Lois didn’t smile much, but she was smiling now. “I think this program could really take off.”
Eden’s eyes must have gone wide because Lois quickly added, “No, we won’t take advantage of you. But this could be just what we need to talk the shareholders into building a decent-size cafeteria on the premises.” She reached out and patted Eden on the shoulder. “I’ll be in contact about next week’s meal.”
Eden went with her to the door, pausing at the window to watch Nick walking back toward his black SUV, while Marcus got into his sports car. Odd pair. Marcus had chatted her up while he’d cooked his second pan of eggs, explaining that he was an accounts analyst and that his friend Nick was in home security. Both of them worked long hours and this was a great opportunity to spend time with their elderly relatives.
It had been a lot of information crammed into a very short conversation.
And now Marcus didn’t seem to be getting along too well with his friend. Obviously they’d had a discussion, and not a happy one from the look on Nick’s face. He glanced up as he approached his vehicle, and his eyes met hers through the glass. There was a frozen moment of connection before he looked away and opened the car door, his expression taut. Businesslike.
Feeling oddly unsettled, she turned as he got in his SUV, and went to finish closing down the kitchen.
“IT’S GOING TO be a surprise!” Tina Ballard said, leaning on the counter in the Tremont kitchen reception area, her gold bracelets rattling on the granite surface. Her younger son, Jed, stood behind her, jangling his car keys and generally looking bored as only a teenage kid could.
Eden jotted down the word surprise and drew a circle around it. Tina beamed. She was trim and tanned from playing tennis, her dark hair perfectly cut. “His birthday is on the fifteenth. It’s a Tuesday, so that should really make it a surprise. Who has a party on a Tuesday?”
In addition to cooking for the Ballards every week, Eden had catered many of their parties, but never on a Tuesday. “Not many people do that,” she agreed.
Jed rolled his eyes. The Ballard boys were just a touch spoiled. Their father worked as entertainment director of several hotels in the Cassandra chain, including the Tahoe Summit. He pulled in one heck of a salary, but he’d always been down-to-earth and personable. As was Tina.
“I’ll work up some menus and be in contact,” Eden said.
“Good.” Her client patted the counter. “Oh, I heard that Justin finally got the Firebird going.”
“Yes, he did,” Eden said. And she hated it, because he drove too fast.
“Michael will be pleased. He only sold it to Justin because of you, you know.”
Eden smiled. “I thought it was because of all that begging.”
“That, too.”
Jed gave a small cough and Tina straightened up from the counter. “We’d best be going. I know you’ll do a spectacular job with this.”
“I will,” Eden agreed, as her best customer waved and disappeared out the door.
Good money, good times, but surprise parties were a pain.
She went back into the kitchen, where Patty was running a basin of warm water to wash the counters down after a full day of making chicken potpies.
“I thought Justin would be in by now,” Patty said.
“Double shift at the Tahoe Summit,” Eden told her. Again.
“He does too much,” Patty said. Eden didn’t answer, since the prep cook said that at least four or five times a day, but she did glance at the clock. It was later than she’d thought.
“Oh, man, I’ve got to hurry. I told Reggie I’d be at their place at seven.” It was her babysitting night, an evening she looked forward to, since she couldn’t quite get enough of her new niece, Rosemary Eden Gerard. Tom, Reggie’s husband, put in long hours renovating the house he was going to use as the site of his new restaurant, and he insisted that they get one night out a week.
“You know I don’t mind finishing up here,” Patty said briskly. “I like cleaning at the end of the day.”
“Thanks.” Eden didn’t hesitate in accepting her offer. Patty did like cleaning up, finishing up, locking up. Being indispensable. And in a way, Eden felt sorry for her. Other than at Tremont, she didn’t seem to be indispensable to anyone.
Eden hung up her apron, thanked Patty again, who waved her off, then rushed out the front door to the lot. And stopped dead when she saw the envelope stuck under her car’s windshield wiper.
Drawing in a breath, she yanked out the heavy envelope. Cream colored and expensive—no doubt who had left it there.
Eden dropped the envelope on the ground and got into her car. She’d pick it up and throw it away some other time. But right now, even though she couldn’t see his car parked anywhere, she had a strong suspicion that Ian was watching, waiting to see her reaction to whatever he’d written.
He wouldn’t be getting a reaction from her because she wasn’t going to allow him to engage her. She jammed the key into the ignition and started the engine, letting it run for a few seconds before she put it into gear and backed out of the parking spot.
She noted with a touch of satisfaction that she’d run straight over the envelope, leaving a nice dirty tire mark on the pristine cream paper.
“IT’S OPEN,” TOM GERARD called when Eden knocked on the back door of her sister’s house. Brioche, her brother-in-law’s part-Yorkie dog, raced across the kitchen to greet Eden, nearly sliding out the door as she skidded to a stop on the tile floor.
“Hey, Bree,” Eden said, leaning down to ruffle the hair of the little terrier’s head. The dog grinned at her and danced on its hind feet. Mims, Reggie’s fat cat, watched disdainfully from the kitchen door, but Eden knew that before the evening was over, cat and dog would be snuggled together in one bed.
“Thanks for coming,” Tom said, handing Eden the baby and then gently prying tiny fingers off his slate-blue silk tie. Rosemary’s lower lip jutted out as she lost possession of her new find, so Tom made a silly blowing noise at her stomach. The baby gave a huge gummy grin and waved both hands. Tom laughed.
“New trick,” he said to Eden with a crooked smile. “There’s a bottle in the fridge ready to go. Just heat and serve in about an hour, and she should go down.”
Not if Eden had anything to do with it. The baby might go to sleep, but she’d be in Aunt Eden’s arms in the rocker while they overdosed on classic movies.
“I need to hurry my wife along so that we can eat and be back before Reggie falls asleep.”
“I swear she’s pregnant again,” Eden