CHAPTER 5
Mia turned over again, glancing at the clock. An hour had passed since she’d gone to bed and she wasn’t any closer to sleep than she’d been when she’d climbed out of her morning shower. Trent’s words kept rolling around in her head. She’d sunk every last dime of her savings into the purchase of the old school. She’d negotiated a business loan with the local bank to complete the restoration, and now everything could be taken away. Especially if she was known as the business owner more likely to kill than provide a warm meal at the end of the day. Sunny yellow walls or not, she’d lose everything.
Sighing, she threw back the covers and reached for her robe. No use just lying there. She padded barefoot to the kitchen. Tonight she’d forgo the sleeping spell and ease her insomnia the old-fashioned way, by cooking. Opening the door to the refrigerator, she reached for peppers, sausage, and mushrooms. She pulled out the loaf of bread she’d bought from the local bakery a few days before. Just stale enough, she thought as she squeezed the crusty loaf.
She moved through her prep work—the mise en place, as her culinary school teacher had called it—without thinking. Finishing chopping the peppers, she started chopping an onion to add to the mix. Once everything was prepped, she flipped on the gas stove and sautéed the veggies, slowly crumbling the sausage into the pan. The kitchen smelled wonderful. She flipped on a second burner under the teakettle. Brewing coffee would only keep her awake longer. A nice cup of cinnamon apple tea, however, might slow her racing mind. And she might, just might, get back to sleep tonight.
She sat at the butcher-block table and pulled out the notebook she used to plan recipes. This breakfast strata would be a nice addition to the weekend menu. In fact, she could do it as a welcome gift for first-time clients. Purchase a dinner for four, get breakfast free. And the strata could make use of the day-old bread that always seemed to accumulate in a kitchen. She could make them in batches and freeze them for future sales.
She added the idea to a list for Christina for menu development. She had amazing graphic art skills. Roxanne Adams had been wrong to steer her daughter toward a business degree. Christina might not be able to make it as a dancer, but Mia knew with her artistic ability and marketing savvy, she’d be amazing in advertising or design. Even untrained, Christina was twice as good as the account executive hired by her ex-employer when they redesigned the menus.
Thinking of Christina made her glance toward the direction of the bedrooms and the hidden safe that held her cookbook. Isaac had insisted he owned the recipes she’d developed for the catering section of the hotel’s business. Converting recipes to feed a larger group had been a challenge. But soon it had come naturally. Grans always said she still cooked for a large family, even though she’d been living alone for close to thirty years.
As if she’d been called by Mia’s thoughts, Christina showed up at the kitchen door. “It smells amazing in here. Want some company?”
Mia smiled at her houseguest turned roommate. “I’d love some.” She stood and removed the whistling kettle from the burner. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
Christina shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep. I feel bad about what I told the police. And then that jerk at the wake. Why would anyone suspect you?”
Mia laughed and poured steaming water over two cups with tea bags already in place. She turned off the stove under the cooked meat and veggies, setting it aside to cool before finishing the strata. “People around here know anyone who worked with Adele for longer than a day would want to kill her. But that also works in my favor, because the list of people who hated her is pretty long. I probably overreacted a bit when Baldwin questioned me. He has to question everyone, right?”
“Still, if I hadn’t gotten up and seen you gone last night, they never would have questioned you.” Christina took the offered cup and played with the tea bag, pulling it up and down. Isaac used to do the same thing, unwilling to wait for the water’s heat to do the magic.
“There’s a saying: It’s none of my business what others think about me. And because I didn’t kill Adele, nothing anyone thinks will convict me. I’ll worry about it when there’s something to worry about. Right now we need to focus on getting the business up and running before our grand opening. You think you can stay on until then?” Mia glanced at Christina. They hadn’t talked about anything past Adele’s party. “I’m starting to depend on you. You’re amazing with the marketing ideas. I’ve listed off a few more things for the menu I’d like you to play with.”
Christina stood and went to the stove, absently stirring the mixture in the pan. She kept her head turned away from Mia as she spoke. “I’d like to stay. Mom’s pushing me to go back to school next semester. She’s even talking about summer school.”
“You’ve been talking to Roxanne?” Mia didn’t know how she felt about this—betrayed, happy? Something in between?
“Something Grans said a few weeks ago made me call her.” Christina turned back from the stove. “You know, when we were talking about family and how they always love you, no matter what?”
Mia remembered the conversation. Christina had told Grans that her mother hated her, especially after she’d left for Vegas. Grans, being the eternal optimist, had told Christina that a mother’s love never died, no matter what the child did. Mia hadn’t been so sure; she’d met the mother in question. Roxanne Adams could be described as controlling and vicious, but those words would be too gentle for the woman.
“I remember. Grans would be proud to know you took the first step.” Mia walked the high road, even though she didn’t think a family reunion would be in Christina’s best interest. She hoped for the girl’s sake her gut feeling was dead wrong.
Christina smiled and sat back at the table. “I was worried you wouldn’t like that I called her.”
Mia leaned over and fist bumped against Christina’s hand to get her attention. “No matter what I think about Isaac and your family, I hope I’ll always be a part of your life. I’m here for you, don’t forget that.”
Christina nodded and sniffed.
“Let’s get this strata together and go to bed. Tomorrow we’re getting back to renovations and putting this dream of mine in the bag. That way when you leave for summer school, I’ll barely miss you.” Mia stood and dumped the cooling meat into a colander in the sink. “First we need to drain off the fat from the mixture. Get me one of those large metal bowls.”
The next few minutes they worked like they’d been cooking together for years. Mia would miss Christina when she left. And, from what Mia could tell, Christina might just miss the work. She had a knack for creating, and being innovative was a good quality for potential chefs. She put aluminum foil over the baking dish and slipped it into the fridge. By the time they woke up, the strata would be ready to slip into a nice, hot oven and they’d be ready to start a new day.
Mia turned out the lights, slipping downstairs to check the main door locks one more time. With the living quarters on the third floor, a prowler could do a lot of damage downstairs before anyone even noticed. Mr. Darcy silently padded after her, jumping up on the window seat when she went into what would be the kitchen to check the back door.
Certain that the locks were solid, she turned out the downstairs lights and went back to where she’d left Mr. Darcy. The cat had already abandoned his post. “Here, kitty, kitty,” she called. No responding meow.
She checked the downstairs rooms that had their doors open. No cat. Shaking her head, she glanced up the stairs. The feline had probably returned to curl up on Christina’s bed. Mia went up the stairs, shut the apartment door, and went straight to her room.
This time when she slipped between the sheets sleep found her and she drifted off into a dreamless state.
The insistent buzz of her alarm clock woke her promptly at seven the next morning. Late, compared to her usual start time, but early for her body, which objected to the lack of her normal eight hours. She slipped on her robe and slippers and headed to the kitchen to put the sausage strata in the oven and start coffee.
As she walked through the living room, a scratch sounded at the apartment door. She unlocked the door and Mr. Darcy ran in, heading to Christina’s bedroom.
Mia watched the cat paw open the door. Where had he been? She’d looked through all the downstairs rooms without finding him. She glanced at the apartment door as she gently closed it. Maybe she’d have to put in a pet door. She hated to think of him wandering the downstairs all night.
In the kitchen she turned on the oven. Going through the rote motions of making coffee, Mia’s mind puzzled over the cat’s whereabouts. He must have found one of the second-story-room doors open. Mia would have to make sure to walk through nightly and close up all the doors. Especially when the construction guys started next week.
Satisfied she’d solved the mystery, she sat at the table with her cup of coffee and started making out a list. They’d delivered a large dumpster on Friday. Today, she’d finish cleaning up the trash from the first floor, and by the end of the weekend all the painting would be done and dry. She’d added another twenty items to the list before Christina walked through the kitchen, Mr. Darcy in her arms.
“Good morning. You have about thirty minutes before the strata’s done.” Mia let her voice rise into a happy chirp. “You want some coffee?”
“How can you be happy this early?” Christina plopped in the wooden chair. Then she groaned. “Coffee.”
Mia handed her a cup and a spoon, moving the cream pitcher and sugar bowl closer to the girl. “You take out the strata when the buzzer sounds. I’m grabbing a shower.”
“Ugh . . .”
Mia hoped that meant, sure, no problem in grumpese. Walking through the living room, she saw the light flash on the wall. Someone had just rung the doorbell. The previous owner had set up the warning light mostly because it was impossible to hear the door chime this far up. She glanced at her pj’s and tightened her robe. No time to worry about changing clothes now.
She headed down the stairs, hearing the chime buzz again as she got closer to the door. “Hold on, I’m coming,” she called out.
Undoing all the locks took some time, but finally she swung open the door. Trent Majors stood there, a box in his hands. He pushed past her and quickly closed the door.
“It’s freezing out there this morning. Waiting on you, I could have been a Popsicle.” He glanced around the room. “I like the color. Sunny.”
Mia stared at him. “I don’t remember inviting you over this morning.” She glanced at her wrist at a nonexistent watch. Self-conscious, she pulled the robe tighter around her throat. “So why are you here?”
“Figured after I dropped that bombshell last night I had some explaining to do.” He held up the box and grinned. “I brought doughnuts.”
People lined up on summer weekends to get Majors bakery doughnuts before they sold out. Mia smelled the grease and sugar combination and her stomach growled. “You bring a maple bar?”
Trent smiled. “Two.”
“Then come on up. I’ve made coffee and the strata is just about ready.” She pointed to the stairwell. “I’ll follow you.”
Trent glanced around the lobby area. “You’ve been busy. I hated that gray. The school got a deal on the paint and went through the whole place with it.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m not totally settled on the yellow, but it will get me started. I haven’t even started the upstairs. But the contractors are coming to finish the kitchen, so if I get an all clear from the county, I’ll be set up for home delivery and catering maybe late next week.” Mia smiled. Just keep going. Her grandmother hadn’t raised her to be a quitter. Sure, Adele’s death had been a shock, but honestly, it had nothing to do with her. Follow the plan and everything will work out. She noticed Trent wasn’t following her. He just stood in the doorway, looking at her.
“I don’t think that’s going to happen.” Trent almost looked sad.
“Quit messing with me. I’m not in the mood to be teased.” Mia’s heart raced. Please don’t give me bad news, please.
“Not messing with you. George Kennedy is in Alaska fishing for two weeks.” Trent shook his head. “I would have thought he would have said something.”
“Who’s George Kennedy?” Mia’s thoughts raced through the names of people she’d met since she’d moved here; no George in the bunch.
“He’s the health inspector. The one who has to sign off on your business?” Trent headed to the stairs. “I think I smell that strata now.”
Mia watched him bound up the stairs. Two weeks? By her business plan she needed to open no later than May 1 and she wouldn’t even have her inspection for two more weeks? She glanced again at her missing wristwatch—too early to call the county to see if this George guy had left someone else in charge. Besides, it was the weekend. Who did she think would answer?
Sighing, she followed Trent up the stairs to the apartment. She might just eat both of those maple bars to drown her sorrow.
She had just reached the entrance to the apartment when she heard a rapping on the door. “Grand Central freaking Station, today. I’ll be right back.” Mia glanced at Trent. “Christina’s in the kitchen. She’s pretty mute until she gets a few cups of coffee in her, but she might talk to you if you offer her a doughnut.”
“She won’t bite my hand if I feed her, will she?” Trent peeked around the open door, apparently looking for a booby trap.
“She’s not a wild animal; she’s a young woman who likes to sleep in. I don’t think she’ll bite, but keep your hands out of reach just in case.” Mia turned and started down the stairs. Who needed step class? She had a fitness program right here. Two flights of stairs, twenty times a day.
“I’m not feeling safe here,” Trent called after her.
“Pull up your big boy pants and go get some coffee. I promise, she won’t bite—hard.” Mia grinned. She liked Trent. Christina had hit the nail on the head when she’d said Mia and Isaac’s relationship had been all business. She’d had more fun with this man in the few days she’d known him than with the boyfriend she’d lived with for the last five years. Trent teased, laughed, and brought doughnuts. Now he could be couple material.
A smile crossed her lips and stayed there right up to the time she opened the door. Isaac Adams, her ex-boyfriend, Christina’s brother, and the person voted least likely to cross her doorway leaned against the doorframe. He pushed his dark-brown hair out of his eyes and smiled at her. The smile that had changed her mind so many times in the past, but now all it did was remove the smile from her face.
“Hey.” His voice was soft and playful.
Mia crossed her arms. “What do you want, Isaac?”
He raised his eyebrows. “So we’re playing this game?”
“I’m not playing any game. Why are you here?” Mia glanced at the car sitting by the street, no passenger. “And where’s your new catering director? Sleeping in?”
Isaac shook his head. “Jealousy doesn’t become you. Tanya stayed in Boise. She’s not here.”
“But you are. Why?” Mia held the door closed with her foot.
“I come in peace.” Isaac held up his hands in mock surrender. When Mia failed to respond he sighed. “Look, Mia, I told Mom I’d come by to give Christina some money and check in on her. Do you mind? Can I see my sister?”
Mia wanted to say no. She wanted to slam the door on Isaac. She wanted to kick him in the groin. Finally she stepped back and opened the door. “Come on in. She’s upstairs in the apartment.”
She shut the door after him and marched up the stairs. At least Trent was here. Maybe Isaac would get the wrong idea about her and Trent, so she wouldn’t have to worry about him trying anything stupid.
“Smells amazing. You make that strata I love?” Isaac’s voice followed her up the stairs. “What, not sleeping?”
Mia groaned. For years, whenever she’d had a problem, she’d gotten up in the middle of the night and cooked. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d surprised Isaac with a hot breakfast, usually something new that they would try out with the catering staff.
She opened the door and motioned him into the apartment. Christina could fill him in on all the craziness around them. Mia just wanted coffee. “Things have been hectic.”
As they walked into the tiny kitchen, Trent sat at the table drinking coffee. The doughnuts were out of the box on a plate in the middle of the kitchen. Christina stood at the stove, cutting the strata into servings.
“Isaac, this is Trent Majors. Trent, Isaac Adams, Christina’s brother.” Mia left the rest of the descriptors out of the introductions.
“And you said I moved on fast.” Isaac studied her, smirking. He winked and then held out his hand to Trent. “Nice to meet you. You and Mia dating?”
Mia gasped. “Not your business.”
Trent smiled and stood to shake Isaac’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Your sister is a sweetheart. And starting to be a pretty good sous chef.”
Mia smiled at Trent, thankful he’d try to steer the conversation away from their relationship. But Isaac wasn’t done.
“I didn’t expect Mia to have company this early in the morning.” Isaac released Trent’s hand and slipped into a chair at the table. “Mia, honey, pour me some coffee.”
Mia sighed. This would not be pretty. He’s here to talk to Christina, she reminded herself.
Before she could move to the coffeepot, Christina put her hand on Mia’s arm. “Go sit down; I’ll get the coffee.”
“Thanks,” Mia whispered.
Trent glanced at her as she slipped onto a chair and grabbed a napkin and a maple bar. He leaned back into his chair and refocused his gaze on Isaac. “I brought doughnuts. Why are you here?”
Mia bit her lip to keep from smiling. When Isaac didn’t answer Mia swallowed the bite of doughnut and supplied the answer. “Christina’s mom worries. Isaac is here to make sure I don’t have her chained to the stove.”
“Mom wouldn’t think that.” Christina set a cup of coffee in front of Mia and then one for Isaac. “She liked you.”
Mia snorted. “Your mother never thought I was good enough for her little boy.”
Christina brought the plates and set them in front of the three. “She likes you a lot more now that he’s dating that crazy Tanya.”
Isaac’s turned toward her. “Who told you that?”
Christina cut off a bite with her fork before she answered. “Mom. She says you burning Mia shows how stupid you really are.”
Trent chuckled. “Nothing like family to focus on your faults.”
Instead of responding, Isaac stood, his face beet red. He pulled out his wallet and threw a handful of hundred-dollar bills at Christina. “That’s from Mom. I’m at the Lodge until tomorrow morning. Come over tonight for dinner and we’ll talk.”
Mia started to stand. Christina put her hand on her arm, stilling her. “Stay here and enjoy breakfast with Trent. I’ll show Isaac out.”
As brother and sister left the kitchen, Trent sipped his coffee. When the sound of the front door to the apartment closing echoed through the quiet kitchen, he set down his cup. “You okay?”
“Sorry about all that. I guess you figured out Isaac and I used to . . .” she paused. What had they been to each other? At one time she thought he would be her one and only. Now, she saw him through different, clearer eyes. And she didn’t like what she saw. Especially since she’d realized he’d always been this way. She sighed. “Stupid, I know.”
“Being in love can make you do stupid things. And there’s nothing wrong with following your heart.” Trent’s voice sounded wistful. He shook his head and took a bite. “The man’s a fool if he can walk away from something like this.”
Mia wondered if Trent’s words meant more than the strata. She ducked her head and smiled. Maybe today would be okay after all.