The whole time Andrew worked on the oven at Main Street café, he’d hoped Kelly might show up and say something. Maybe she’d invite him to go with her, or at least ask him to stay until she got back. That didn’t happen.
She didn’t say she didn’t have feelings too.
That has to mean something.
Monday came around a lot faster than he’d expected. He’d been worried when he scheduled the trip that he’d be chomping at the bit to get out of this little town, but that hadn’t been the case.
He packed his suitcase, knowing he should be excited about the opportunities this New York trip could present, but honestly he’d have chucked it all to stay and give it a go with Kelly, had she given him an inkling of hope.
He zipped up his bag and rolled it toward the front door. Mom and Dad were talking in the kitchen. He left his suitcase at the door.
“Good morning. What are you still doing home, Dad? I thought you’d already be at work,” he said.
“Couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye.”
“I’d have stopped by to say goodbye. I promise.”
“Now you won’t have to,” Dad said. “Your mom’s making us a nice breakfast. A family meal before you head out. Your sister is on the way.”
“Sister is right here.” Dawn announced as she came into the kitchen. “On time, even.”
“Now this is a celebration,” Andrew teased.
Breakfast was good, and Andrew was finding it hard to say goodbye.
“I guess I’d better get on the road.”
Dad put his plate in the sink then gave Mom a kiss on the cheek. After over forty years of marriage, they still looked like they had that spark. Now that was special. He’d never thought much about how Mom and Dad got along. Dad was opinionated, and he had a lot of rules, but somehow the two of them had always seemed happy. There were never any arguments between them. She supported his dreams, and he supported hers, even putting up with all the horses when he didn’t even ride.
Will I ever have that? Would there ever be anyone other than Kelly who really got him? Someone who understood his hopes and dreams the way she had? Had he missed out on the only true chance of happiness that he’d be offered in this lifetime?
The corner of Mom’s mouth lifted, but her lips pulled tight, like she might cry. “I couldn’t be happier.” She clutched her heart. “This has been a long time coming—the two of you being civil again. I didn’t think I’d ever see the day. All of us together for a meal, and it isn’t even a holiday. See, sometimes things that seem impossible just take an open mind, and an open heart.” She patted Andrew on the back. “Think about that. Anything is possible.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry I let it go on so long.” He stepped over and gave her a hug.
“I can’t believe you’re already going,” she said. “It’s been so nice having you around.”
“I’m really glad I came back.” This trip had offered unexpected benefits. He looked over at his dad, his heart filled with pride. “I promise I won’t stay away so long again.”
“I hope not,” Dad said.
Andrew hugged Dawn, then grabbed his suitcase and stepped out onto the porch.
“And drive careful,” Dad said.
“Yes, sir. I was just checking on the weather,” Andrew said. “Looks like things have cleared out since you came through Pennsylvania.”
“Good. That was a mess. Text or call when you get to where you’re stopping.”
Mom jumped in. “Yes, please let us know you’re okay.”
“I can do that.” He hugged Mom, then Dad. “Thank you both for everything. I love you.”
They stood on the front porch, waving, as he put his suitcase in the car.
He pulled out of the driveway with an extraordinary void in his chest.
Andrew took the back roads toward Main Street, hoping he might catch another glimpse of Kelly walking Gray across the street like that first day he’d hit town. Customers were coming out of The Cake Factory when he drove by. He could picture Kelly standing behind the counter, a relaxed smile on her face as she greeted them.
He took a quick right and drove around the block. He had plenty of time to stop and say goodbye to the McIntyres and to Kelly. He slowed along the curb, then decided against it. He could send flowers, or a card instead. Maybe call while he was in New York after she got back from her trip. Valentine’s Day was next week. Maybe Cupid would help him out.
He stopped and filled up his gas tank. As the gallons clicked off on the pump, he stared at the cars going by. There was a lot more activity in this town these days.
Rather than take the ramp up the street to get onto the interstate, he took a left. There was one more place he wanted to stop before he left Bailey’s Fork.
He timed the drive. Only seventeen minutes from the center of town.
The parking lot had seen better days. The asphalt was cracked, and dead grass had made its home there. He pulled in front of the Fresh Strawberries sign and shut down the motor.
This May, these acres would be lush and green and filled with ripe, red strawberries. Perfect for Kelly’s Honey Almond Cake. He wondered if she bought fresh strawberries here.
He got out of the car and started walking. It was well over a football field-length to the barn. The outside was faded, but the pole barn structure was built to withstand time. Inside, the boards and beams were hefty, and sturdy. He stepped off the length and width, then climbed the ladder up into the hayloft. The double-doors in the loft had blown open at some point. The warped wood held them in place. From here the view was breathtaking. Tall pines lined the back of the property line, the brown-barked trunks skying to those deep-green needles gave the graying winter landscape hope.
He sat there in the loft, with his feet dangling out of the doors, feeling small against the vast backdrop. Kelly had given that old factory a second life, which in turn gave the town and its people a better life. Her success inspired him. For the first time, he was beginning to think how his skills, his talents, could be used to do more than give him a very comfortable salary and bragging rights.
His phone rang, breaking the silence. He dug it from his front pocket to see who was calling. Francois, again. He inhaled deeply, then sent the call to voice mail.
Andrew sat there for a long time; there was a fair amount of traffic that went down the road in front of this property in both directions.
He climbed down and walked back to his car, taking the route past the industrial park to the I-85 ramp in neighboring Farm City.
When Andrew got to Pennsylvania, snow had begun to fall. But at least it wasn’t an all-out snowstorm like what his dad had driven through last week. Andrew’s mind was still replaying the week. As he thought about the barn and the property his father had offered him, he remembered the phone call he’d ignored. He played the voice mail over the car speaker. Francois’ voice boomed through the car. Had he ever heard Francois speak kindly of someone? Had he ever really said a heartfelt thank you the whole time Andrew had worked for him? The man was a genius in his field, there was no arguing that, but to be so celebrated as a chef doing what he’d always wanted, he sure didn’t seem that happy.
There was nothing Andrew could do to change that. Even if he’d been back in Paris to defuse the situation of the day, Francois would only be bellowing about something else.
Wide awake, he decided to drive the last couple of hours into the city. On the plus side, at this time of night the traffic would be clear. He stopped for fuel and a cup of coffee to finish the trip. Took an extra minute to text his folks and let them know he was going to make the drive the rest of the way in tonight so they wouldn’t worry.
The GPS took him right to the front steps of the hotel. He valeted his rental car and went inside.
“Good evening, I’m Andrew York,” he said to the young lady behind the VIP Guest Services counter. “I was supposed to be here in the morning. I hope you have a room for me tonight. I drove straight through.”
“No problem. We’ve been expecting you,” she said in a hushed tone.
Why did he suddenly feel like he was on a secret mission, waiting on his orders and decoder ring??
“This is a…unique building,” he said, taking in all of the stainless steel accents.
She glanced back at the clock. “Do you have a car?”
“I do.” He handed her the valet ticket.
“Welcome to the Big Apple.” She picked up a stack of papers and leaned over the counter. “Lucky for you, you won’t have to drive yourself around again for the rest of your trip.”
“That’ll be nice.”
“If you have a rental, we can get that returned for you if you like. No sense paying for it if you won’t be using it. We have a free shuttle to take you back to the airport when you’re done. I’m Gia, and I’ll be your contact here at the hotel while you’re filming.”
“Thank you. That would be great.”
“Is the rental agreement in the car?”
“In the console.”
“That’s all I need.” She phoned the valet and arranged for the car to be returned while he stood there. “Any credit will go back to the card you used when you reserved it.” She typed something into the computer. “Okay, Andrew, production is taking care of your stay, so I won’t need anything from you except a form of identification.”
He handed over his driver’s license.
She typed in the details and slid it back to him. “Now, Lori will be your assistant for the show. Here’s a packet of information she left for you.” Gia handed him a bright orange letter-sized envelope with his name and room number on it. “If you’ll just dial 18622 in the morning after eleven, she’ll come over and get you all squared away.”
“Thank you, Gia.”
“Elevators to your left. Eighteenth floor.”
He turned to leave.
“Oh,” she said. “Good luck.”
When he got to his room, he dropped his bag and turned in a circle. “Holy cow. Mom would die if she saw this.” He opened the curtain. The suite overlooked the hustle and bustle of the streets below. “I’m in New York City.” With a fist pump, he spun around. “Amazing.”
He unpacked his clothes and put all his things away. No sense acting like he was a temporary around here. He’d learned a long time ago that if he acted as if he’d already succeeded, he would. “I’ve got this.”
The bed looked so inviting with the piles of stark-white linens. He took a quick shower and then climbed between the crisp sheets.
When he woke up, it was almost noon. He ripped back the blackout curtains to huge snowflakes falling, but they didn’t seem to slow the traffic below.
He got dressed and dialed 18622. “Good morning, Lori. This is Andrew.”
“Hello, Andrew. I’m so glad you made it in okay. I’ve got the adjoining room. Can I come over?”
“Absolutely.”
He hung up the phone and met a blonde about his age at his door. “Come on in.” He stepped out of the way and let the door close as he followed her into the sitting room of the suite.
“Not sure you’ve had time to really look around yet, but you’ll notice a couple of things missing. No phone. No regular television. There’s a long list of On Demand you can watch, though.”
“I hadn’t even noticed. No television? I’m here for a television show. What’s that all about?”
“Just part of the sequestering process. I don’t make the rules. I just make sure you follow them. It’s just a few days. No one usually minds.”
Lori’s accent was southern, but more like Texas than the coast. “I’m fine with it. Just wondering. So this sequester thing, I thought that was hype for the show.”
“Oh, it’s the real deal. Hand over your cell phone.” She put out her hand.
“But I might need to take a call.”
“That’s where this comes in handy.” She took a form out of her leather portfolio. “Fill this out. Anything you deem as possibly critical should be noted here. Phone calls, or any other social media or messaging that might come through, like your parents, a girlfriend, boss, whatever, just list the important ones.”
“I don’t know the phone numbers. They’re in the phone I just handed you.”
“List them as they’ll come up on the phone. I’ll have it on me at all times.”
He cut his eyes in her direction. “I’m not sure I like this.”
“It’s only a few days. Seriously, it’s not that big of a deal. If any of those calls or texts come through, I’ll help you screen through them and respond.”
She was bossy for a little thing. “This is crazy,” he said as he wrote down Francois Dumont on the list.
“It was spelled out in the contract you signed.”
He wasn’t really expecting a call from his parents or sister, but he added them to the list for good measure. “I didn’t read the contract that close.”
“I bet you cashed that first check with no problem.”
That was true. He’d deposited it without a second thought. Since he was using his stacked-up vacation time, his time away was like getting a bonus with the stipend the show offered. He’d come out ahead—win or lose. “What else did I sign up for?”
“Guess you’ll know when it happens,” she said with a playful wink. “Don’t worry. I’ll have your back every step of the way.”
“I’m all yours,” he said, flirting a little more than was probably appropriate.
“Yeah, and strictly business. I’m here to help you stay on time, follow the rules, and hopefully win. Got that?”
He stifled a laugh. She was way too mouthy for him anyway. “Yes, ma’am.” He playfully saluted her.
“We don’t have to go to set until tomorrow, but if you’d like to check out the kitchen, I can arrange to take you over.”
“I’d like that very much.”
“I thought you might.” She made a call to the producer. “Hi, yes, it’s Lori. I’d like a time slot to bring Andrew over to see his kitchen on the Four Square set. Great, we’ll be right over.” She put her phone in her purse. “I’m just going to grab a couple of things, and I’ll meet you in the hall in ten minutes?”
She left, and he rubbed his hands together. “Here we go.”
He changed into a fresh shirt and went searching for his phone, almost in a panic until he remembered he’d had to hand it over. That was going to take some getting used to.
When he stepped out into the hall, Lori was already waiting for him. He liked people who were punctual. They went downstairs, and the doorman tipped his hat. “Miss Lori. Good to see you again. Your car is here.”
“Thanks.” She must’ve caught the look on his face, because she said, “I’m here all the time for the show.”
The limousine was very nice. It still had that new leather smell. He could get used to this. A DVD of the Four Square Cooking Show ran on the flat-screen television. Someday somebody else would be riding in this limo, watching him on that show. His mouth pulled into a grin. Hard to believe.
He settled back into the seat, watching the people move along the sidewalks as if they were in a hurry.
Whoever had nominated him for this show, he owed them big, because he could get used to being treated like this!
The limo pulled to a stop.
“Hang on a sec,” Lori said as she dialed her phone. “We’re here. Thanks, see you shortly.” She hung up and tucked her phone into her purse. The driver came around and opened the door for them.
He let Lori slide out first, then followed behind her.
The inside of the building had an industrial look to it, kind of minimalist and modern. Frosted glass doors blocked the view of most everything down the wide corridor. People were moving booms and cameras with purpose. A brunette wearing all purple sauntered by. Andrew nudged Lori. “Was that…”
She nodded. “Sure was.”
“I never knew she was that tall.”
Lori used a cardkey to unlock one of the doors with the Four Square Cooking Show logo on it. “This,” she said, throwing her arms wide and backing into the room, “will be your kitchen.”
It was a lot bigger than it appeared on television. White subway tiles made for a clean, sharp look and all of the equipment, like he’d seen online, was truly top-notch. Instead of a ceiling, above the kitchen was open with an abundance of grids holding lights and cameras. A microphone boom extended across the room. “There’s a lot going on up there.”
“You’d be freaked out if you knew how many camera, lights and mics are all over this space, and on you all the time. You’ll want to remember you’re always on camera and watch your mouth, because you never know what they’re recording.”
“Good to know.” Now he was a little freaked out.
The kitchen was stocked with an industrial-sized mixer and two large ovens. The shiny silver wire racks that made up the pantry were nicely stocked and organized by type. One held nothing but bowls, tools, and baking pans, where another held spices and more sugary confections than he’d ever laid his eyes on in one space. The refrigerator had a glass front. He’d be able to quickly find what he’d need.
“What do you think?”
“I’m used to working in the finest restaurant in all of France, and this will do very nicely.”
A man in the hall was talking about product-placement shots he needed in tomorrow’s filming.
Andrew stared at the pantry, but his ears were totally tuned in to what was going on in the hall.
“…and Mark was just telling us that since they’re not going to film another season of Charlie’s show, they’re thinking about picking up the winner of this for a special or two. It could work into something new.”
“That would be good. Charlie was so hard to work with. I can’t imagine having to drag that through another season.”
“You and me both.”
The door closed, and it was completely silent. The kitchen was definitely soundproof. Even the banging and squeaking of the equipment being moved up and down the hall had disappeared.
He’d been flattered to be invited to the competition, but things had just gotten way more interesting.
When he’d left Paris, he’d been thinking that if he won, he’d invest the $100,000 into Francois’ newest restaurant. It was a safe investment that would surely make a nice return. Or he could invest in the one opening in Mykonos, and hopefully that would help ensure him getting to work in that restaurant for a while. It would be quite an experience to cook for the rich and famous, and play with them too.
But now, after his visit home, he had to really consider the opportunity to open a restaurant in Bailey’s Fork and further foster his relationship with Dad. Was there any chance Kelly might let him back into her life? From what he could see, all she had was that pig. There hadn’t been a single sign of a guy in her life. His mom’s words replayed in his head. Fight to get her back.