Caught Bread Handed (10 page)

“Nothing.” She picked up the rack and slid it back into place on the counter. “I had the impression that maybe he was hoping for something more permanent.”

“He is.” I sighed.

Mom joined me at the island. She reached out and touched my arm. “We don't have to talk about this now if you don't want to. I didn't mean to push.”

“No, it's okay. I'm so confused. Having Carlos here is amazing. Everyone loves him—the staff, customers—everyone.”

“And you?” Mom's voice was soft.

“And me, but it's complicated. He's going back to the ship. I'm here.”

“Juliet, you know that I love having you here, more than anything in the world, but I want you to know that it's okay to go. If that's what you want or what you need for your marriage, I understand and I fully support you in whatever choice you make.”

“You're trying to get rid of me, aren't you?” I hoped that making a joke would lighten the mood a little.

She smiled. “Guilty as charged. Can you blame me? I can't compete with my daughter's world-class culinary talent. It's not fair.”

“Everything I know I learned from you.”

“Ha!” She threw her head back and laughed. “Hardly. I've seen how you wield your pastry knife.”

I laughed with her. It felt good. “Mom, can I ask you something?”

“Honey, you know that you can ask me anything.”

I sighed. “Sometimes I feel like everything is spinning around me and I'm just trying to hold on.”

“Technically speaking the world is spinning around you.” She stepped closer and squeezed my arm. “A piece of advice, Juliet, stand in the center and let it spin.”

Before we could continue, the door swung open and Carlos came in. Speak of the devil.

Mom brushed her hands together and took off her apron. “We can talk later,” she whispered. On her way out the door she greeted Carlos with a hug and waved good-bye to both of us. “See you bright and early tomorrow!”

Carlos strolled into the kitchen. “Julieta, I have heard the news. Everyone at the terrible Merry Windsor is talking about it. They are saying that you were at the murder. Why did you not tell me this earlier?”

“I meant to, but we were so busy I didn't have a chance.”

He came closer. I could smell his cologne and the scent of herbs on his skin. “I do not understand why you did not tell me. I was so worried about you when I heard this news.” He wrapped me in an embrace.

I breathed him in. His arms felt solid around my waist. We swayed together in the kitchen, lost in the moment.

The next thing I knew, he was lifting my chin and his lips were on mine. His kiss was slow and steady yet intense with yearning. I felt it too. His hands massaged my back and hips. I pressed my body closer to his.

A wave of heat and need rose in my body. I ran my hands through his thick hair, as he kissed me deeper.

“Carlos,” I said, coming up for air. “We have to stop.”

His eyes searched mine. “Why?” He pulled me to him again and kissed my cheeks, my forehead, and eyes. I let out a low moan.

We were both so caught up in the moment, that neither of us heard the door open.

“Hey, hey!” I heard a voice call from the front.

I jumped back from Carlos's embrace to see Thomas staring at us with his mouth hanging open.

 

Chapter Ten

“Thomas.” I could hear how breathless my voice sounded. I didn't sound like me. “Come on in.”

Carlos stiffened.

“Uh, it's okay.” Thomas stayed by the front door. “I was looking for the Professor.”

“He's not here,” I said, walking toward the counter.

“I see that.” Thomas glanced at Carlos and then back to me. “If he comes by, let him know that I'm looking for him, would you?”

“Of course, but I think he and my mom have a hot date.”

“That's right. I forgot. He mentioned that. All right, well, catch you later.” He turned to leave.

“Wait,” I called.

He paused. “Yeah?”

“How's the case going? Any updates?”

Thomas shook his head and looked beyond me. I was pretty sure he was looking at Carlos. “I'm not at liberty to divulge that kind of information.”

“Right.”

“I've got to go. See you later, Jules.”

Carlos muttered something that I couldn't make out.

“What did you say?” I asked as I returned to the kitchen.

“Nothing,
mi querida.
” He smiled. “Your friend, he has the worst timing, no?”

“Maybe.” Or maybe Thomas had arrived at the perfect moment. Given how intense that kiss had been, the next thing I knew we might have been removing articles of clothing, which would have been problematic on many levels. For starters Torte's kitchen windows look out onto the plaza. I wouldn't have wanted to give anyone a show. And also I wasn't sure that I was ready to take things to the next level with Carlos yet. It was silly, but things were different now. I didn't know if I could handle being that close to him again and watching him leave. It would hurt too much.

Sterling arrived a minute later. I wondered if Thomas had seen him outside and sent him in.

“I'm not late, am I?” he asked.

Carlos rolled up his sleeves. “No, you are right on time. Come, come, let's get started.”

Sterling pointed to the rack of aprons. “Do I need an apron?”

“No. Jose will be here soon. We will do a tasting and go see the vineyard.” Carlos waved him closer. “I want to show you the meats we have, and I want to hear how it went with your special lady.”

Carlos and Sterling went into the walk-in fridge. Special lady? Did Carlos mean Stephanie? What were the two of them up to? I would have to keep my ears open.

I went through tomorrow's orders for our wholesale accounts. Sunday was a light day for wholesale orders. I was glad that I'd told Stephanie to stay home. I could do some quick prep this afternoon while I waited for any customers to come in.

Jose arrived right on time. Despite the fact that he and Mom were about the same age, his face was lined with deep wrinkles and had begun to leather. It was evident that he had spent many years in the sun. His jeans and work boots were dusty and smudged with grape juice. “Juliet, how nice to see you!” He gave me a hug with one arm. The other arm held a wooden case of wine.

“Come sit,” I said, showing him to a table. “It's so great to see you.”

Jose had always been like an uncle to me. “It is wonderful to see you too. Your mother has not stopped talking for months about how happy she is to have you here.”

“I feel the same way.” I smiled. “Can I get you a coffee or a pastry?”

Jose set the box on the table and walked to the pastry case. He rubbed his belly. “I shouldn't, but I have to.”

“You do,” I agreed. “It's a requirement when you come into the bakeshop. Imagine if I came to the winery and refused to taste your Pinot. You would be offended.”

Jose laughed. “I do not want to offend my favorite blond chef. Do you remember when you were young and your parents would bring you to the farm, and everyone would call you blondie?”

I tapped my head. “I do. It fits. I was the only blonde around. I used to love coming out to the vineyard. You'd let me eat all of the grapes I could pick off the vine.”

“Yes. That's what they are for. You should come see it now. You won't believe how much it's grown.”

“I'll have to take you up on your offer.” I tapped the case. “Now, back to business. What can I get you?”

Jose pointed to a double-chocolate brownie. I went to plate it and pour Jose a fresh cup of coffee. On my way, I opened the walk-in and told Carlos and Sterling that Jose was waiting for them.

While I dusted the brownie with cocoa and powdered sugar and added a sliced strawberry for garnish, I eavesdropped on their conversation. Jose cradled each bottle of wine. He clearly felt very proud of his product. Sterling kept reminding Jose and Carlos to speak English. They both quickly slipped into their native tongue. It didn't seem to matter that their dialects were different. Their hands flew in the air as the spoke in rapid Spanish. I could tell that they were going to be fast friends.

When I brought the brownie and coffee to the table, Jose insisted that I sit. “Stay, Jules. I am showing them my new hybrid kale. I've been experimenting with growing some vegetables. It is beautiful, no?” He handed me a bunch. “Try it.”

The kale leaf was a deep shade of green with variegated purple veins.

“Taste it, everyone,” Jose encouraged us by ripping off a piece and eating it. “This is my winter crop. Can you believe it? I think you will love it.”

I tore a piece of the earthy leaf. Kale is extremely versatile. We use it in salads and sandwiches. It can be cooked and even added to smoothies for extra greens. Kale grows well in Southern Oregon all year long, even more so with the mild winter we were currently experiencing. Jose's kale tasted like it had been harvested minutes ago. It probably had. There was no bitter aftertaste, and the texture was nice. Some varieties of kale can be stringy, but Jose's wasn't.

“This is wonderful,” Carlos said, as he held the kale up to the light. “See these veins,” he said to Sterling. “This is the sign of a good and hearty plant.”

Jose beamed as Carlos raved about the kale.

A customer came in, so I left them to admire the red blend that Jose was uncorking and baskets of different varieties of grapes. They spent an hour talking and tasting. I chuckled to myself as I worked in the back. Three men all geeking out over organic produce and wine—it reminded me of being in culinary school. I watched Sterling's face. He was taking it all in, but wasn't tasting the wine. Sterling had made a new start in Ashland. When his mom died he turned to drugs to numb the pain. His late teen years had been spent on the streets. Coming to Ashland had been the first step in turning his life around. I hoped that learning about wines wasn't going to put him in an awkward position.

When they finished, they called me to the dining room.

“Julieta, we are taking Sterling on a field trip—is that how you say?”

I nodded.

“A field trip to Jose's winery.”

“But Sterling doesn't drink.” I watched his reaction.

“It's cool, Jules,” Sterling said. “I've been tasting the grapes. Not the wine. If I want to be a chef I've got to know wine, but that doesn't mean I have to drink it.”

Carlos put his arm around Sterling's shoulder. “
Sí, sí.
It is good. There is nothing to worry about.”

“You must come. You will not believe how different things are now.” Jose offered me another armful of kale. “And take this. You must try some recipes with kale.”

“Gladly,” I said, taking the kale. I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost three. I could have closed for the day and tagged along with them, but I was exhausted. Plus, I was happy that Carlos had a distraction for the moment. “Thanks. But I'll take a rain check. I have a bunch of work to get caught up on. You guys have fun!”

On their way out, I heard them discussing Jose's new greenhouse. I knew that would keep Carlos busy all afternoon.

Carlos and I had dreamed about opening our own restaurant one day. In his vision we would buy a property that had enough space for a small greenhouse, garden, and vineyard. “There is nothing like the taste of handpicked vegetables, Julieta. The food, it knows fresh.”

I had been on board with the idea until things fell apart. Now I didn't know what was next for Carlos and me.

 

Chapter Eleven

Torte was quiet for the remainder of the afternoon. A handful of customers came in for orders to go, but otherwise I was happy to have some time alone. Had it really only been this morning that I'd discovered Mindy? It felt like I'd been awake for days.

I immersed myself in baking and barely noticed when the front door jingled. The beefy guy who I'd seen with Mindy last night and in the plaza this morning came inside.

“Can I help you with something?” I asked, coming up to the front counter. “I don't think we've met. I'm Jules.”

His beady eyes gave me the shivers. “Reggie.”

“Did I see you with Mindy at the meeting last night?” I was glad to have the pastry case between us. A barbed-wire tattoo crisscrossed his forearm. Thick muscles bulged underneath his T-shirt.

“Yep.” He didn't offer more. Lance was right—he would make a perfect Brutus.

“I guess you've probably heard the news, then?”

“Huh?”

“About Mindy. Do you know that she's dead?”

“I'll take a couple of those pink things.” He tapped on the pastry case.

“The petit fours?”

“Whatever.”

I folded a small box together and placed the petit fours in it. “So you heard about Mindy?”

“Yeah. She was my boss. I kinda figured it out when I showed up for my shift.”

“Your boss?”

“Yeah. I'm the cook.”

“Oh. Is this good?” I showed him the box.

“Gimme a few more.”

I placed three more petit fours into the box. “How long have you worked for Mindy?”

“Three days.”

“Did you work at another ShakesBurgers location?”

“Nope.”

I closed the box and handed it to him.

He gave me a crumpled ten-dollar bill. I tried to ask him more questions while getting his change, but he grabbed the box and left without another word. I wondered what his story was. What did Mindy know about him before she hired him? Fast-food cooks didn't need culinary degrees, but I wondered how and if she had vetted him.

As soon as he left, I locked the front door and switched the
OPEN
sign to
CLOSED
. Then I popped a classical CD into the stereo and blasted the music. Sometimes classical music helps me clear my head. It was a good thing that I had the kitchen to myself. Andy and Sterling were both into indie music. They'd probably tease me forever about jamming to a string orchestra.