The Fortune Cafe (28 page)

Read The Fortune Cafe Online

Authors: Julie Wright,Melanie Jacobson,Heather B. Moore

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romantic Comedy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Magical Realism, #Inspirational, #Love, #Romance, #clean romance, #lucky in love

“I have to fill orders at night. It’s too hard to get much done when the store is open and busy,” Stella said.

Disappointment crossed Dave’s face, but Stella figured he was being polite. He was married with a kid, and when Stella had first moved home, she’d gone to one of their gatherings. She had felt totally out of place. Everyone was either married, dating someone, or just wanting to play around.

She was suddenly anxious to get back to her sunbathing. She told Dave she’d call if her plans changed, and then she went back to the beach chair she’d carried from the house. The temperature was perfect, and although the beach was crowded, the sun was worth it. She’d grown too pale and her hair too dull.

Stella wasn’t into tanning like she was as a teenager. Now she used sunscreen, but that didn’t stop her from a bit of worshipping. She settled in her chair and closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of the waves, the seagulls, and kids running up and down the sand, yelling and laughing.

She was half asleep when her cell phone rang, startling her out of her reverie.

“Stella! Did Evan find you?” Amelia’s voice boomed over the phone.

Stella sat up, blinking at the brightness of the day. “Evan?”

“Yes, that nice man who came in looking for you. I sent him down to the beach.”

“I didn’t see him,” Stella said, even though she realized she had— when she’d been talking to Dave.

Her mind was clearer now. “What did he want?”

“Oh, honey. When a man like that comes around, don’t make him chase you.”

Stella’s mouth felt dry. “Do you know him?”

“Not until I met him a little while ago,” Amelia gushed into the phone. Stella was used to Amelia’s antics— one good reason she never confessed anything about her dating life. “He’s a good one, Stella. Don’t let him get away.”

She laughed. Amelia was too much sometimes. “I don’t even know him. He bought something for his mom yesterday, and the day before he came in with his daughter. He’s divorced.”

“Oh,” Amelia paused. “Never mind. It just means that he has a bit of experience. How old is his daughter?”

“Maybe six or seven.”

“Perfect. Young enough to not have to worry about a rebellious stepdaughter.”

“Amelia!” Stella said, laughing again. The woman had never married but seemed to have all kinds of advice on dating and relationships. “We haven’t even been out on a date.”

“Well, what’s stopping you? He said you had his number.”

“I do,” Stella said, falling quiet for a moment. “You know how it is with mom. Things are really busy right now and—”

“Your mother would be the first to push you out the door,” Amelia said. “Do you think that she wants you to wait on her so much?”

Stella swung her legs over the chair, her heart feeling heavy. “I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to her.”

“She’s doing better than she has in a long time,” Amelia said, her tone softening. “Look, dear. You’ve been wonderful to your mom, and you’ve done a fabulous job with the shop over the past year. But I agree with your mother— you need to go date a man.”

“So my mom’s in on this too?”

“Why do you think I’m here?” Amelia asked, chuckling. “I might be moving in.”

Stella smiled and took a deep breath. What would her mom and Amelia think if they knew Andrew had been by the day before? It didn’t matter, she wasn’t going to tell them because she was never going to contact Andrew again.

“Just one date, Stella,” Amelia insisted. “Call that man. What’s there to be afraid of?”

Stella thought of the fortune from the night before.
Do the thing you fear and love is certain.
Except she wasn’t looking for love. She wasn’t looking for anything, but with Amelia, and now her mom, dead set on this, she might call Evan after all.

Evan nearly dropped the sauté pan he held in one hand when he realized it was Stella calling him. He turned down the burner and answered the phone.

“I guess you met Amelia,” she said immediately.

“Yeah. She was filling in for you?” Evan said. He couldn’t believe how nervous he felt at the sound of Stella’s voice— like he was in middle school talking to a girl on the phone for the first time. He waved at one of the employees to take over the mushroom and onion sauce, then he walked out of the hotel kitchen into one of the huge storage rooms where he wouldn’t have a dozen people listening to his side of the conversation.

A sigh came through the line. “You impressed her.”

Evan furrowed his brows. The words didn’t match the tone. “She seemed… enthusiastic.”

Stella laughed, and Evan smiled at that.

“That’s the perfect word to describe Amelia,” she said. “Sorry if she was pushy or nosy or—”

“Look, Stella,” Evan said, releasing a nervous breath. “I’m glad you called, but if it was at Amelia’s insistence, then I want you to know that you’re off the hook.”

“Oh, she insisted all right,” Stella said. “But… I don’t want to be off the hook unless you want me to be.”

Evan moved the phone to his other ear. For some reason his ear had become very hot. Her teasing words had made him feel more bold, more sure of himself. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe a little.”

Evan heard the smile in her voice. “In that case, you’re definitely
on
the hook.”

She laughed.

He had her on the phone, and now he couldn’t let her go without asking her out. “What are you doing about 10:30 tonight?”

“Sleeping,” she said, amusement in her voice.

“Perfect. Then you aren’t too busy for dinner.”

“Nothing is open that late,” Stella said. “Not even takeout.”

“I have connections,” Evan said. “But you’ll have to meet me.”

“Oh really? Where?”

“Come to the Seafood Grille at the Mariposa.”

“10:30? Why so late?” she asked.

“I hate crowds,” Evan said.

Stella laughed, and even after they hung up, Evan could still hear her laughter.

The hours passed both too slow and too fast. Tension increased in the hotel kitchen since the governor’s family and entourage arrived at 7:30 p.m. Although Evan had been planning the meals for days, he wanted everything to go off without a hitch. He checked and double-checked everyone’s work from dicing the grilled chicken for the chicken parmesan salad, to drizzling raspberry cream sauce over the chocolate cheesecake dessert.

He’d researched the family’s favorite dishes, and then had put a twist on them. By 9:00 p.m. when the desserts were being served, one of the waiters came into the kitchen and told Evan that the governor wanted to meet him.

This is it,
Evan thought. A recommendation from the governor or one of his staff would put the new resort on the map for Californians. He hoped the news was good, and if it wasn’t, then his best wasn’t good enough.

As Evan walked toward the two tables filled with the governor’s family and others, the governor stood. “Mr. Rockham,” he said, extending his hand.

Evan shook it, his eyes quickly scanning to see if the guests had been eating or merely picking at their food.

“The dinner was excellent,” the governor said.

Relief shot through Evan. They chatted for a few minutes about the menu, the hotel, and then Evan asked about the upcoming wedding.

“You’ll have to ask my wife about that,” the governor said with a wink. “I’m here for the food.”

Evan laughed. “We’ll keep you happy then.”

By the time Evan returned to the kitchen, he was elated. The governor had been much more personable than he expected, and the compliments seemed genuine. Cleanup had already begun, and Evan pitched in, working as quickly as possible. The sooner the staff left for the night, the sooner he could start cooking for Stella.

Stella regretted wearing heels about two seconds after getting out of her car. The new Mariposa Hotel was imposing and gorgeous, and it was definitely a place for fancy people, but Stella wasn’t fancy. And by dressing up this way, she felt more than uncomfortable. She had no idea what Evan would be wearing, and what kind of message did she want to send him anyway?

But Amelia had insisted— had even rallied her mother to insist as well— which led to Stella pulling out a dark lavender dress that fit more snugly than Stella was used to. At least the straps were thick and Stella didn’t have a lot of cleavage to show off anyway.

“Have you seen that place?” Amelia had asked. “It’s a five-star resort— the women probably wear furs even though it’s warm.”

“Furs and diamonds,” her mother had pitched in.

Stella felt totally betrayed. “I guess I’ll have to add diamonds to my next vendor order.”

Amelia had laughed. “You can borrow mine.” She started to pull off her earrings.

“No,” Stella had said. “Too much. I’ll wear the dress. I’ll wear the heels. I’ll even put on some mascara or something. But not the diamonds.”

Thankfully, Amelia put her earrings back on. “Don’t come home early,” she said, with a conspiratorial wink. “We won’t be waiting up.”

Stella had glanced over at her mom, and her mom smiled oh-so-innocently. “I feel like I’ve been set up.” But she couldn’t help smiling back at her mom.

And now, here she was, walking toward the glittering hotel.

“Hello, ma’am,” the bell hop at the front entrance greeted her.

Stella nodded to him, hoping that she looked like any hotel patron. Once inside, she followed the signs for the Seafood Grille. As she walked along the marbled floor, she practically gaped at the huge framed landscape paintings and the massive display of fresh flowers on elegant hall tables.

She slowed as she neared the restaurant. The lights were dim, and no one was at the host’s podium. She took a few steps into the restaurant, her heart sinking. Maybe she’d misunderstood the time.

“Stella.” On the other side of the restaurant, Evan had come out of the kitchen doors. He wore a white chef’s jacket.

“You’re here,” she said as she walked toward him. They met in the middle of the room. “And I’m way overdressed.”

Evan smiled at her. “You look beautiful. Perfect, really, like you belong in this hotel.”

Stella glanced around the restaurant, feeling a bit flushed at his compliment. “This place is closed.”

“The kitchen isn’t,” Evan said, reaching for her hand. He led her around the tables toward the kitchen.

He’s holding my hand, and I’m letting him.
His hand was warm and strong and somehow put her at ease even though she was in a deserted five-star restaurant.

Evan led her into the kitchen, his hand still capturing hers.

Stella pulled him to a stop, staring at the room. It was as large as the restaurant. Silver gleamed everywhere, from the overhead can-lights to the metal surfaces and artfully arranged pans. “This place is amazing.”

Evan laughed, squeezed her hand, and let go. He motioned to a table on one side of the room that had been set with a tablecloth and plates and utensils. A couple of lit candles glowed as a centerpiece. Stella could almost hear Amelia gushing over it all.

“Have a seat, and I’ll bring over the food,” Evan said, holding out a chair for her.

Stella sat down and watched as he carried over a covered platter. “No waiters tonight?”

“I guess they were all too tired.” Evan set down the platter and removed the lid.

It was some sort of chicken dish with creamy potatoes and seasoned vegetables. It looked delicious and smelled wonderful.

“Not quite what the governor ate, but I didn’t think you’d want leftovers.” He moved off and grabbed a couple of wine flutes along with a bottle of wine. Then he wrote something down in a ledger.

“Five-star restaurant leftovers are probably pretty great,” Stella said.

Evan laughed, setting down the wine glasses and pouring them about half full.

“So… what did you feed him?” She took a sip of wine, watching Evan.

He sat across from her. “A little bit of each of their favorites.”

Stella was mesmerized as he described the recipes. The way he talked about food was like an artist talking about blending the perfect color. “Did you always do the cooking when you were married?” she blurted out. She could have choked— just because she was wondering about it, didn’t mean it was polite to ask. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to ask such a personal question.”

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