Chapter Three

Jules strode past the counter and stared at the blonde. “Be seeing you.” Ideas bubbled like champagne in his thoughts. He had until dinner tomorrow to find the perfect plan to achieve his goals, a night with Grace and her signature on the contract for the Good Cookin’ spread.

He slipped into the lightly falling snow. What an asshole he’d been years ago. Something about Grace had made him want to grab her and run. His usually smooth line had vanished the moment they’d kissed. Beneath his present studied tactics he feared the other self lurked.

This time called for finesse so neither of them would be sorry.

He started the Jeep. Step one, dinner. Did he really want to take her to a restaurant? He tossed a mental coin. Business or pleasure?

By a slim margin, business won. Grace had a list of reasons the feature was wrong for her. He needed answers for her every objection.

His thoughts turned to pleasure. If he had kissed her he might have won both objectives this afternoon. He’d caught a trace of desire beneath the aromas in the bakery kitchen. If she hadn’t opened that sack of chocolate powder he would have been more aggressive. No need to ruin his clothes while conducting a seduction.

He tapped the steering wheel and dragged his thoughts back to dinner. Her place would be perfect. To take her to his city apartment would involve a battle of wills and not the one he wanted. He pulled from the parking space and drove down Main Street. A sign beckoned. Five Cuisines. Allie’s husband was the owner and he’d heard the food was fabulous. He parked and walked half a block past antique shops to reach the door of the restaurant. Inside he read the menu and checked off a number of appetizers. He placed the order to be picked up at five forty-five the next day.

More plans formed. His dick throbbed.

Patience, dude. Anticipation is good.

As he strode toward the Jeep, he stopped short. Sashaying in his direction he saw a bleached blonde who looked familiar. Was it? He hoped not. He turned and stared into the window of an antique shop. As the woman passed he knew who she was. He studied her reflection in the many mirrors displayed.

She glanced toward him. Charlene Patterson. Tight jeans and a fuzzy jacket that emphasized her breasts. Turtle-like he hunched his shoulders.

Keep walking.

She sauntered past, paused and continued away. There went the girl he’d refused a hundred times. This visit continued to drop bombs.

Once she vanished around the corner, he relaxed. At least she hadn’t drawled her usual ‘hello.”

His response had always been “Hell no.” Still was.

During his two years at the group home, Charlene had stalked him. He’d used every evasion tactic to avoid being lured by the “I’m ready and willing” odor she exuded.

Anger simmered like a geyser preparing to erupt in a shower of mud. Two days before he aged out, Charlene’s lies had nearly sent him to jail for theft. A call to Tony’s father had brought Jules’ father’s old friend to the rescue.

What was the name of Charlene dupe? Eric, no Derek. Another inmate of the boy’s home. He’d envied Jules’ computer, clothes and the few other things Jules had managed to bring from home after his mother’s suicide.

Jules started the Jeep. For a time he drove randomly from the village heading away from Tony’s house. When he reached the lake his jangling nerves and the shadows of the past were tucked away. He turned around. Snow swirled in the air covering the ground with a skim of white.

At the door Lauren let him in. She cocked her head. “Why the glare? Business not going well?”

“Just taking longer than I hoped.”

“Why do you look so angry?”

“Nearly ran into Charlene Patterson.”

“Ugh. Was she with Derek? I hear he’s back in town.”

Jules shook his head. “She was alone parading in those tight jeans she always wore. Tony home?”

"In the family room amusing Jamie. He thought you’d fled back to the city.”

“Just drove to clear my head.”

“Go release him so he can start dinner.” She walked to a door at the end of the hall. “What are you planning for tomorrow?”

“Watching my alma mater thrash Tony’s.”

“We’re going to a play in the evening. Want me to get a ticket for you?”

“Don’t bother. I’m having dinner with an old friend.”

“Who?” She arched a brow.

“That would be telling.”

She opened the door. “Some female you wooed in high school?”

Jules ignored the question and dashed downstairs. Tony sat on the carpet building a tower of blocks for Jamie to knock down.

“This is a sight I never believed I’d see. From playboy to daddy in weeks.”

Tony added a block. “Your time is coming. You might find you like the life.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

Tony rose and clapped Jules’ shoulder. “Glad you came. Why the trip to the village? Never thought you suffered from nostalgia.”

“You’ve got that. Business for Good Cookin’. Lauren sent me to relieve you for chef duties. When do we eat?”

“An hour or so. Have fun with Jamie.”

Jules held up his hand. “Wait. What do I do if, you know, he makes a mess?”

Tony pointed to a box. “Press the button and yell for Lauren. That’s what I do.”

Jules took Tony’s place on the carpet and built towers Jamie knocked down. When the child lost interest in the game he crawled across the floor. Jules gathered the blocks and put them in a toy chest. He caught Jamie before he reached the steps. “No, you don’t.”

“No, no,” Jamie yelled.

Jules laughed. “They are going to kill me.”

“Up, up.”

Jules scooped the small boy and sat on the couch. He thought of how much his friend had changed since Lauren and Jamie entered his life.

A question wound the way to the surface. Did he want a family? He patted Jamie’s back. Would finding the perfect woman fill the empty hole in his life? The answer eluded him. Jules switched on the TV. Now wasn’t the time for making that kind of decision.

The door at the top of the stairs clicked. Lauren appeared. “You look comfortable but I need to get Jamie ready for dinner.” She lifted the child.

Jules followed her upstairs. She pointed to a door. “Rather than heading upstairs you can wash in there. Tony’s in the kitchen.”

The aroma of onions and cumin led Jules to the state of the art kitchen. Tony flipped tortillas on a griddle and put them in a container on the warming table section of the central island.

“Smells good.”

Tony raised a glass. “Margaritas are in a pitcher in the fridge. Help yourself. You can also bring out the soup.”

Jules followed the directions and sipped the drink. “Nice.” He ladled gazpacho into three bowls and topped each with sour cream.

Lauren popped Jamie into the highchair and fed him between spoonfuls of soup. She handed the baby a biscuit. Jules chuckled at Jamie’s attempt to capture the spoon.

Tony turned to Jules. “So tell me about your business in the village. What went wrong?”

“Stubborn woman.” Jules tasted the soup and smiled. “Terrific. How go the wedding plans?”

Lauren rolled her eyes. “Like a tornado. I’m handling Christmas. The wedding is his. On Sunday part of the meet and greet includes a cupcake tasting.”

“From Cupcakes Sweet and Spicy, I hope.”

“Where else,” Tony said. “We like to help local businesses, especially when the owner is Lauren’s best friend. How do you know about the bakery?”

Jules straightened. So the delectable Grace is the maid of honor. Will need care when dealing with her tomorrow evening, especially with his current plans.

“Jules, are you with us?” Tony asked. “Don’t tell me.”

“Have to. Allie wants to do a feature article in Good Cookin’. I’m here to persuade Grace to sign.”

Lauren leaned forward. “On Sunday we’ll add our persuasions. Would be a great boost for the bakery.”

Tony chuckled. “Might mess with her five year plan.”

Jules hoped their help wouldn’t be needed. Did Grace’s house have a fireplace? If so that would be perfect for the winter picnic he’d planned. His mind drifted to thoughts of persuading her to sign the contract followed by an indulgence in sex. Hastily he pulled his thoughts away from his plans and chatted with his friends.

Finally he pushed the plate away. “Great food. The shrimp fajitas were the best I’ve had. So were the chicken and beef. I’m stuffed.”

Lauren rose, picked up Jamie and nodded to Tony. “Come on. I’ll do his bath and dress him but it’s your story night.”

“On my way.” Tony took a bottle from the fridge. “You’re on KP, my friend.”

“No problem.” Jules watched them walk away. A bit of envy rose. Why, he wondered. Finding no answer, he started putting food in the refrigerator and dishes in the washer.

Lauren joined him as he cleaned the counters. “Wow, almost done.”

“I work fast.” Jules dried his hands and walked to the kitchen door. Snow still swirled in the air. “Hope I don’t get snowbound for the weekend.”

Lauren laughed. “Predictions call for one to two inches. I worry about Grace. I’ve nagged her for weeks to buy new tires for her van. Hers are bald.”

Jules turned from the door. “I’ll make sure she arrives home safely. Maybe a good deed will convince her to sign.”

“Good thinking.” Tony paused in the doorway and tossed Jules a key. “Don’t worry about waking us. Front door.”

“Alarm system?”

“When you come in if we’re in bed, the pad is beside the door. This week’s code is four seven four.”

* * * *

Grace slid the last tray of triple chocolate cupcakes onto the cooling rack. Perspiration dripped down her face. Baking done. She inhaled the rich chocolate aroma and wiped her face with a wet paper towel.

“Dinner’s here,” Bonnie called.

Grace joined her clerk at one of the tables near the window. She put a slice of Sicilian pizza on a paper plate and opened a can of soda. She lit into the cheese and pepperoni. “Tastes great and I’m starved.”

Bonnie put her slice on another plate. “Tell me about Mr. Hot. I almost claimed to be you. Then he asked me why I wouldn’t let Good Cookin’ do a feature. You are brushing off one great opportunity.”

“I’m not ready. Maybe in a year or two. I have a plan.”

“Think about what happened to Five Cuisines after their feature. You need to make reservations weeks in advance.” Bonnie smiled. “My choice would be to let him know you’re considering and spend time cultivating him. He is one splendid specimen.”

“And knows it.” Grace returned to the pizza. What would Bonnie say if she heard Grace was going to dinner with him tomorrow?

When they finished and cleared the table, Grace walked to the kitchen. The fudge topping for the cupcakes should have set. As she worked she thought about Jules and that long ago kiss. That day she’d almost broken her vow of no boys or men until she could support herself. She hadn’t any desire to follow her mother’s path of using sex to pay her bills. Thoughts of sex with just any man left Grace cold.

She finished the last of the cupcakes and slid the tray into the cooler. Before washing the bowl she swiped a finger around the bowl to gather the last traces of fudge.

With cleanser she tackled the worktable and the cooling rack, then sprayed the oven. After sweeping the floor she carried the utensils she’d used to the huge dishwasher. After the shop closed she would do the floor.

“Grace, where are you?”

Her hands tightened. The nasal twang of Charlene’s voice rasped like a creaking door. Grace entered the shop before Charlene’s cheap perfume permeated the kitchen.

“Hello, Charlene. Two visits in one day.”

“Mama sent me for the leftovers.” She pointed at Bonnie. “She knows I collect them every day but she won’t give them to me.”

“It’s an hour until closing,” Bonnie said.

“Do you see any customers? Streets are nearly deserted.” Charlene leaned against the case.

Grace shook her head. “Did your mother enjoy the ones you took this noon?”

“Why wouldn’t she?”

What a strange answer. This was the first and last time Charlene would be allowed to take twice in a day. “Start a box.”

“Mama’s gonna be real happy. She sure misses your help in the kitchen. Says that a dozen times a day. Wasn’t happy when you turned down her offer of a home and a job and went to that fancy cooking school when you aged out.”

“Winning the scholarship allowed me to follow my dream.” A bubble of resentment formed. Room and board plus fifty dollars a week hadn’t seemed fair.

Bonnie set the box on the counter. “You’re in luck. Eighteen.”

“What about them six, especially the ones with the fudge on top.”

Bonnie glared. “I’m taking them home.”

“That’s not fair.”

“I’ve already given your mother a dozen today,” Grace said.

Charlene picked up the box. “Guess who I saw today. At least I think it was him. Jules Grayson. From his clothes I’d say he’s rich. Well, he’ll need a bundle.” She sashayed to the door. “How well I remember him. Poor Grace never got a taste but I did.”

Grace rolled her eyes and clamped her lips together. Was Charlene going to play that card again? The answer was clear. Charlene smelled money.

When the door closed Grace turned to Bonnie. “Won’t be more customers tonight.”

Bonnie stared out the window. “Snow’s coming.”

“Head out. I’ll finish here. Safe home.”

“Are you sure?”

“Go.”

After Bonnie left, Grace hung the closed sign and locked the door. She carried the trays and beverage container to the utility room and started the dishwasher. After cleaning the cases she swept and mopped the floor, carrying the last of the day’s cash to her office. She finished cleaning the kitchen. In her office she noted the proceeds in the account book, stocked the cash register for the next day. After donning her coat and gloves she left with the bank bag in hand.

As she passed the narrow alley between her shop and the next, a hand grasped her arm. She screamed.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Jules deep voice made her stiffen. “What are you doing here?”

“You shouldn’t be carrying a bag of money when you’re alone.”

Grace glared. “It’s only a little after nine. Bonnie usually comes with me. I sent her home early because of the storm.”

“I’ll walk with you.”

“Fine.” Was this more of his tactic to lure her into his bed? She had to admit he was much smoother than he’d been years ago.