Chapter Two
Caprice had already been seated at Rack O’ Ribs on Tuesday when Bella entered the restaurant. Caprice spotted her sister over the line of people waiting to be seated and waved.
Bella waved back and said something to the hostess, a redhead dressed in a white blouse, red tie, and very short black skirt. Then her sister wound her way around the rustic wooden tables, bumped into one of the black iron chairs, and met Caprice at her back booth. The vinyl on the booth’s wooden bench sported a cowhide pattern.
Bella slipped into the booth across from Caprice with a resigned sigh. “And just why did you want me to meet you at this busy place? It’s new and everybody’s still trying it. We’ll hardly be able to hear ourselves over the chatter.”
“Good afternoon to you too,” Caprice said cheerily.
Bella wrinkled her nose at her and asked, “Well? When Mom came over, I told her I’d be away for an hour. You could have just gone through the drive-thru and brought lunch to my house.”
Yes, Caprice could have ordered the ribs, picked them up at the drive-thru, and taken them to Bella’s, but she wanted to be in the midst of the action and actually experience the restaurant.
“You can take Mom some ribs after we finish lunch. I told you this is about Drew Pierson. I want us to taste his recipe for blackberry barbeque sauce. They just started serving it yesterday.”
Bella looked around. “Rack O’ Ribs is a nice all-around restaurant for families, teens, and couples.” She turned her attention back to Caprice. “Why isn’t Nikki tasting the sauce with us?”
“Oh, I’m sure she’ll taste it. But she’s too upset about the whole thing right now to think clearly, or to taste well. We need to be objective. She couldn’t believe Drew had devised some secret recipe that was good enough to sell. She said he can cook well enough, he just can’t create from scratch. He insists his catering business is going to be known for its original recipes, and Nikki’s just shaking her head over the whole thing. He’ll be at the wedding expo this weekend with a supposedly divine chocolate walnut groom’s cake. Nana believes it’s his grandmother’s recipe.”
“Maybe it is,” Bella responded. “You know how recipes are handed down.”
“Maybe. But then he shouldn’t say it’s his recipe. I’m hoping this sauce isn’t anything special. Then we can tell Nikki that.”
“Does she know you’re here?” Bella asked.
Caprice shook her head. “No, I want to get the verdict first. I ordered half a rack for both of us, sweet potato fries, and steamed broccoli.”
“No carbs there. The broccoli will save us,” Bella decided with a grimace.
“Tell me about your house showing last night.” Caprice raised her voice a little so Bella could hear her over a sudden burst of loud chatter.
Bella squeezed the thin slice of lemon hanging on her tumbler into the water and dropped it in with the ice cubes. “The prospective buyers were a young couple, maybe in their midtwenties. They have one little girl who’s two. The real estate agent said they seemed to be interested. It is a perfect starter home. She said they liked the way you had it staged with the sectional sofa, the colorful throw pillows, and the bright stoneware on the kitchen table. Apparently that attracts family buyers.”
“That’s what I was hoping. Your house is terrific for a family just starting out. Have you and Joe found anything you really like?”
“We have our eye on a couple of places online, but we don’t want to go look at them and then get disappointed if it takes a long while for our house to sell.”
“It won’t,” Caprice assured her. “The market’s picking up, and you’re right in the perfect price range.”
“I wish I had your confidence. Joe insists we shouldn’t seriously look until we sell.”
“That’s one way to do it, but then everything could happen really fast. You might have to move out of your sold house and move in with Mom and Dad.”
Bella groaned. “Oh, right, with Uncle Dom there too. Wouldn’t that be a hoot?”
“I don’t think he’ll be there that much longer,” Caprice confided. “He’s seriously considering setting up a pet-sitting business.”
Bella shook her head. “I couldn’t even imagine pet-sitting—walking dogs, cleaning up after cats, all day long and into the evening.”
“If you love animals, it’s not a chore, and I think Uncle Dom really does like caring for animals. Mix in house-sitting, and he could have a good business. It’s hard to find qualified, trusted people who will pet sit or house sit and take care of everything.
“I think our food’s here,” Caprice noted, catching sight of a waitress who was winding her way toward them with a tray. The brunette with the jaunty ponytail and sunny smile set one dish in front of Caprice and the other in front of Bella.
She said, “The plate is hot, so be careful.” She took foil packets from her pocket and set three in front of each plate. “These are to wipe sticky fingers. We know our customers like to eat their ribs with their fingers. Enjoy.”
Once she’d left the table, Caprice glanced down at the ribs. They were heavily glazed and glossy, and did look delicious.
Bella was shaking her head. “There goes my diet.”
“You can try just one or two,” Caprice offered. “Isn’t diet all about balance?”
Bella rolled her eyes. “Let’s see how good these are.”
Whereas Caprice was pulling the ribs apart with her fingers and then licking them, Bella used a knife and fork. Her sister was particular and wouldn’t get her fingers dirty with something like sticky rib sauce if she could help it.
Bella stabbed a nice chunk of meat with her fork, smelled it, put it to her lips, and then ate it. Her eyes widened and she smiled. “I don’t think one rib will be enough. Oh my gosh, Caprice, this is really good. If these are the kind of recipes Drew Pierson devises, Nikki’s going to have a battle on her hands.”
Caprice picked up a rib and, as delicately as she could, ate the meat from it. The taste on her tongue was fruity and sweet, yet with a bit of heat. Bella was right. This sauce was good. Maybe even genius.
“They’re selling bottles of it up at the cash register,” Bella informed her. “You can bet Drew Pierson will get his cut of each one.”
Caprice suddenly realized what a lucrative deal this had been for Drew. He was definitely on his way. On his way to destroying Nikki’s business?
Or on his way to something else?
* * *
Caprice sat at her computer working on Wednesday before she changed for her date with Grant. At least she was supposed to be working. But she was thinking about how good those ribs had tasted yesterday and whether she should tell Nikki. Mirabelle sat on the cushy lime-green chair beside Caprice’s computer worktable. Every once in a while, she looked up and meowed and Caprice would pet her. Mirabelle was vocal, as lots of Persians were.
Suddenly her long-haired calico, with her strikingly beautiful white ruff, sauntered into the room and saw Lady sitting by Caprice’s foot and Mirabelle on the chair. Usually laid back, Sophia hadn’t been particularly happy about this recent addition to their family. The cats were adjusting to each other. Without hesitating, Sophia stood up on her hind legs and pawed at Mirabelle. It wasn’t a nasty pawing, more like an I-just-want-to-bother-you pawing. Mirabelle meowed, hopped down, jumped over Lady, and dashed for Caprice’s office closet.
Caprice always left the door open in case one of the cats wanted to take a nap in there. She knew the animals had to find their own relationships, and they were . . . slowly.
Caprice’s doorbell rang, and she checked the small portable monitor on her desk. Since her last brush with a murderer, she’d had an alarm system put in her house. Now she saw her sister waving at her, and she smiled. After hurrying to the front door, she unlocked it and Nikki stepped inside.
“I didn’t expect to see you today,” she said.
“I came from Rack O’ Ribs. I tried Drew’s sauce and it’s really good. I’m so disappointed.” Nikki sounded dejected, and that wasn’t like her.
“You wouldn’t be able to create a sauce that’s just as good?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore, Caprice. Maybe I should just get a job as a chef somewhere.”
“Don’t talk nonsense. Your Catered Capers is doing well, isn’t it?”
“I’m meeting my bills and paying my help. But I want more than that.”
“Then we have to get your name out there, like Drew has gotten his out there.”
“He’s done more than that. If he sold the rights to his recipe to the Rack O’ Ribs chain, he’s making major bucks.”
Caprice led her sister into her living room. “You can’t let him take jobs from you. What do you have planned for the expo on Sunday?” she inquired.
“You mean what food do I intend to serve?”
“Yes. How is it special or different from anyone else’s?”
Nikki thought about it. “I’m cooking my roast beef with the white horseradish glaze, bite-sized duck l’orange samples, salmon with a bourbon sauce, and then assorted cookies and desserts.”
“What’s your pièce de résistance?” Caprice pushed.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Well . . .” Caprice drawled. “Drew is advertising this groom’s chocolate walnut cake as his specialty item. What are you going to advertise as the epitome of wedding cakes?”
“Oh, I see what you mean. I’ll have to think about that. Maybe I can coax Serena, who helps me sometimes, to decorate a mini–wedding cake.”
“Think about the topper too. Something different and really classy, like Waterford crystal.”
“You do have ideas.”
“I’ve always told you that. Bring plenty of those new pamphlets you had printed up, and run over to the Quick Print shop and have a poster with Catered Capers and your name and your specialties printed so we can put it on an easel. It’s time to go big, Nikki.”
“Or go home,” Nikki muttered, again with that note of dejection.
“This isn’t like you. You’re usually filled with confidence. What’s going on?”
Nikki sighed. “I’m tired of working and feeling like a hamster on a wheel. Maybe if I had a social life and somebody to care about, all of it would seem more worthwhile.”
“Or more frustrating,” Caprice offered. “But I know what you mean. Dating Grant . . . It’s become part of the focus of my life. We’re going to the park tonight for the concert. Why don’t you come along?”
“I’m not barging in on your date.”
“We’re bringing both dogs, and they’ll be chaperones. There will be a hundred other people there. Come. I know Grant won’t mind.”
“You know him so well?” Nikki asked with a wink.
“We’re becoming very well acquainted,” Caprice assured her with a sly smile.
Suddenly Mirabelle dashed out of Caprice’s office into the living room and jumped up to the back of the sofa. Sophia wasn’t far behind, chasing after her and then settling on the arm of the couch. Lady ran to Nikki, sniffed her pants legs, then rolled over and lay down at her feet for a tummy rub.
“I was just going to change,” Caprice said. “Why don’t you help me choose what to wear? You’re better at this dating thing than I am.”
“Are you trying to distract me?”
“Am I succeeding?”
“You have to promise to wear whatever I pull from your closet.”
If this were Bella making that offer, Caprice would probably refuse. But she trusted Nikki’s taste, even if it wasn’t vintage. That was the fashion she most enjoyed wearing.
“You’ve got a deal,” Caprice decided, knowing Nikki’s choice would be something Grant would appreciate.
* * *
Seated on a blanket next to Grant two hours later, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, Caprice was absolutely happy. The band on the temporary park stage was playing oldies but goodies, her favorites. She couldn’t think of any place she’d rather be, as Lady and Patches romped around the blanket on their leashes and then settled down with chew toys. Folks on folding patio chairs, from teenagers looking for something to do to seniors letting the music bring back memories from the past, were seated across the grass lawn. Her parents might be somewhere in the crowd. She wasn’t sure yet.
Grant leaned close and kissed her on the cheek. “What are you thinking about?” he murmured at her ear.
“I’m thinking about how much I enjoy our dates,” she said truthfully.
He squeezed her a little tighter.
“You two look too comfortable,” a voice behind Caprice said. “I have a feeling you’re slipping into the older crowd instead of going out and raising Cain on a Wednesday night.”
Caprice glanced over her shoulder and spied her brother, Vince. With his dark good looks, wearing a tan Polo shirt and navy board shorts, he looked younger than he did in his business suit. Beside him, Roz looked her beautiful self in a violet blouse and matching shorts. Caprice imagined her friend’s leather sandals came straight from Italy. Roz always wore jewelry. Her amethyst earrings and ring sparkled even though the sun had begun to dip below the horizon. She was holding a leash with her dog Dylan who excitedly greeted Patches and Lady and sat on the blanket with them. Dylan was a Pomeranian-Shih Tzu mix and his fluffy tail swept back and forth over the blanket.
“Can we join you?” Roz asked. “We forgot our blanket.”
“The more the merrier,” Caprice said.
After Vince and Roz settled themselves on the blanket, Roz took imported chocolate bars from her purse, passing them around. “This is the fun part of a lawn concert. Better than those greasy fries in that service cart over there.”
The white Chuck’s Snacks truck contracted with the Chamber of Commerce to do business at these concerts. But its offerings were limited to sodden fries, greasy burgers, and ice-cream sandwiches.
Roz took a bite from her chocolate bar, then winked at Caprice. “Are you ready for the reunion?”
Their high school reunion was only five weeks away. She and Roz were members of the planning committee. “I’m ready, but I don’t know if the committee is. Did Alicia look into decorations yet?”
“Are we going to talk flowers?” Vince muttered.
Roz jabbed him in the ribs. “Do you have a better idea than flowers in vases on the tables?”
“Let’s see. Fifteen years ago. Why don’t you do movie themes from that year? Incorporate that into centerpieces.”
“It’s a little late for an all-new concept,” Caprice said. “Though that would have been a good one. We’ll probably just stick to our class’s colors with the flowers.”
“You are bringing a date?” Roz asked Caprice, with a sly look at Grant.
“I might ask a certain lawyer I know,” Caprice teased back.
“And maybe this time I’ll ask you to dance,” Grant assured her.
Grant was referring to the Valentine’s Day Dance when he hadn’t asked her and she’d been terribly disappointed. From the affectionate pressure of his hand on her arm right now, she knew that wouldn’t happen this time.
Suddenly Nikki was beside Caprice, unfurling her own blanket beside them.
“This will give you all a little more room,” she said.
Nevertheless, there was something in her tone that alerted Caprice that something could be wrong . . . something new could be wrong.
While Vince spread his long legs over onto Nikki’s blanket, Caprice waved her hand over her outfit. “See, I wore what you suggested.”
Her blouse, reminiscent of Stevie Nicks, was gauzy, though not Nicks’s representative black. It was turquoise with embroidery and flowed over her white culottes. Her white sandals with jewels of fuchsia, lime, and turquoise completed the ensemble. Nikki knew her well and wouldn’t have suggested anything Caprice didn’t want to wear.
“Perfect,” Nikki said with a glance, though she looked distracted.
Grant raised a brow at Caprice. He was coming to know her sister too. Usually energetic and effervescent, this was a different Nikki.
“Are you nervous about the expo, Nik?” Caprice asked her, leaning closer.
Vince overheard. “What do you have to be nervous about? You’ve done expos before.”
“None of those was this important,” Nikki maintained. “I’ve come up with my pièce de résistance,” she told Caprice. “Carrot cake with cream cheese icing. I’m going to bake it tomorrow and freeze it. Serena is going to frost and decorate it for me early Sunday morning.”
“Then you’ll be all set.”
“I just hope my presence there will make a difference and stop Drew from stealing my clients. I lost another to him—Warren Shaeffer, who’s president of Kismet’s Chamber of Commerce. He lives in Reservoir Heights, and I catered a cocktail party for him last year.”
“He belongs to the Country Squire Golf and Recreation Club,” Roz said. “I can ask around and find out how Drew stole Warren away from you. For all we know, he could be giving a discount that you could never give, just to take clients away from you.”
“And what good would that do?” Vince asked.
“That discounted event might help him to capture further events by spreading his name around. I don’t know, but I’ll find out for you, Nik.”
“Your carrot wedding cake is going to beat Drew’s groom’s cake. I’d bet my life on it,” Caprice assured her sister. “Let Drew Pierson be the king of barbeque sauce. You can be the queen of catering.”
Although Nikki tried to smile, Caprice could see that her words weren’t assuring her sister. Nikki was worried she’d lose her business . . . and Caprice couldn’t blame her.