Beauty and the Feast

Chapter Twenty



The White’s had given Eva the day off. She’d decided to go for a long overdue bike ride and stop by Gabe’s house. She strolled into Gabriel’s garden where she found Luis working in the herb bed. He rose to his feet when he saw her.
“Buenos días, Se?orita. Cómo está usted?”
“Muy bien, gracias. Y tu, Se?or, y su hermana?”
“Bien, gracias. Y mi hermana? Ella esta muy feliz.”
Eva thought Luis was looking very well. He seemed at peace in the garden, with bees buzzing and butterflies fluttering around his head.
“You and Se?or Abbott are together, sí?” he asked, a hopeful note in his voice. “It’s very good for him. You are very good for him, Se?orita.”
“I think it works both ways, Luis. He’s very good for me too.” Eva smiled at the man. “I just stopped by to say hello and to tell you that Gabe has given me a key. I wanted you to know so that you wouldn’t think I was taking advantage of the situation. Will it be a problem for you in any way?”
“No, Se?orita, I am always happy to see you, but I do think, well, I do think the man should marry you. It would be the proper thing to do.”
Eva sat down on a low stone wall and Luis joined her. “He hasn’t asked yet, Luis, and I think it would be a little sudden if he did. We haven’t known each other all that long.”
“Es verdad, pero, yo pienso que…”
“You can say it in English.”
“I think it would be better for him and best for you. It is always best for the woman. Even in this country. It is better to have a man to look after you. And I think Se?or Abbott would look after you very well.” Luis winked.
Eva laughed. “You are quite a gentleman, Luis. And very old world.”
“Sí, yo soy viejo sabio.”
“Sí, sí se?or, mucho, mucho viejo sabio.” Eva squeezed the man’s hand. “So, Mr. Wise Man, I’m going to check out the kitchen and see if there’s anything I can make us for lunch.”
“Justa lo que necesitaba, Se?orita Eva. Gracias.”
“Me too. But first I guess I better find out if Gabe has any food in his house or if I should do a little grocery shopping.”
Luis nodded and returned to his pruning. Eva pushed herself off the wall and headed to the kitchen. Foraging through Gabriel’s fridge and his cabinets, she managed to find a carton of eggs, some mayo, a jar of capers and a loaf of frozen whole wheat bread. Eva put six eggs on to boil while she drained and chopped a couple handfuls of capers and searched for a pepper grinder. When she’d catered for Gabe, she’d brought her own fresh ground black pepper. The water in the pot with the eggs began to boil so Eva shut off the stove. Her mother had taught her when she was a kid that if you want hard boiled eggs to have nice, bright, yellow yolks without that greenish ring around them, you should shut the stove off the instant the water begins to bubble and leave them to sit, covered, for exactly ten minutes. Eva had done that ever since. She checked to see if Gabe had any fruit or even a head of lettuce, but he had nothing in his fruit and vegetable bins, so she walked out into Luis’ vegetable garden and picked a handful of tangy arugula. While the eggs sat, she brewed some black tea, added sugar, and poured it over two glasses of ice.
In ten minutes, Eva ran cold water over the eggs and peeled them. She chopped them coarsely and added a couple tablespoons of mayo, the capers and ground some fresh pepper over all. She tossed a couple slices of frozen bread in the toaster to brown while she mixed the egg salad. Retrieving the bread from the toaster, she spread each slice lightly with mayo, placed a few arugula leaves on the bottom, scooped on a big spoonful of egg salad, and spread it around on over the green herb. She covered the salad with the second slice of bread and cut the sandwich in half, trying not to squeeze all the egg salad onto the plate. She made two sandwiches and then she called to Luis. While he washed up, she carried both plates onto the patio, returned for the glasses of ice tea and scrounged up a couple napkins. She and Luis ate in companionable silence, listening to birdcalls and the hum of insects. When they finished, Eva refused Luis’ offer of help. She insisted that he sit for a few moments while she cleaned up.
“Gracias por la comida, Se?orita Eva. The sandwich was muy delicioso. I must get back to work. A tree fell down in back and I must begin to cut it up. Se?or Abbott can use it for firewood.”
“De nada, Luis. I’m glad you’re okay with me having a key.”
“Don’t worry,” replied Luis with a smile, “I have faith in Se?or Abbott. He will do the right thing. He’s already met the right woman. That’s a good first step.”
Before Eva could answer him, the man had walked into the garden. Eva had ridden up here today for Luis’ sake, to tell him and get his permission. She knew Gabe was a very private man and he wouldn’t discuss his personal life with Luis. Eva, on the other hand, wanted Luis to think well of her. She didn’t like the idea that he might lose respect for her if she became Gabe’s mistress in his eyes. Luis had lived in the States a long time, but his values were still very old world. She could tell that in his mind, if a man and woman were, well, intimate, it meant that they were either married or getting married. Gabe hadn’t said anything about marriage, although he had said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, and he’d torn up the check she’d left him for the bicycle repairs and told her to drop the matter. Eva smiled at the memory. As Marsha warned her, Gabe did like to take care of people. Well, his words would have to be enough for now. She had her job in Napa. He had his company in San Francisco. Besides, she loved the man. She could wait.
Eva made a short list of kitchen essentials, committed them to memory, and left by the front door. She locked up and tucked the key into the pocket of her bike shorts. She sat on the stoop to put her bike shoes back on. She hadn’t heard from Gabe today and she didn’t know if he’d be able to get away, but if he could, she wanted to have something ready for him.
* * * *
“Mr. Abbott,” called Marsha, “Your sister’s on the line. She says she’s been trying to reach you on your cell but it’s gone straight to voicemail.”
“Crap.” Gabe pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. He’d forgotten to switch it on when he left Eva’s bed this morning. “Put her through.”
His desk phone rang. “Lise, what’s up? How are you? How are the girls?”
“The girls are fine, Gabe, they’re good. It’s me. I’m spotting and the doctor says I need to stay in bed.”
“Well, if the doctor says you have to stay in bed, then sis, you have to stay in bed. What about the girls? Can David handle them?”
“Mom’s coming to stay with us for a while,” said Elise. “Besides, it’s not the girls I’m worried about. I’ve already enrolled them in day camp for the summer.”
“Quincy,” said Gabe.
“Yes, Quincy. He gets out of school at the end of this week and he’s supposed to be staying here. It would be okay with me, but Gabe, it won’t be any fun for him. He’ll feel like he’s a babysitter. That’s no way to start a relationship. Father Joe says Quincy can stay with him for a few weeks, but the man is still recovering.”
“Sis, I don’t want you to worry about it. Quincy can fly out here. I’ll make the arrangements. I’ll pick him up at the airport and he can stay with me in the apartment or we’ll go to the house in Napa. It’s not a problem. I’ll talk to Eva.”
“Eva?” his sister asked.
“My…my…” suddenly Gabe didn’t know exactly how to describe her.
“Gabriel,” sang his little sister, “You have a girlfriend. Eva… Is she the woman you were talking about?”
“Yes, we’re…we’re together.”
“So spill, are you in love with her or is this one of your seven-week flings?”
“I’m in love with her, Lise. Does that ease your mind?” Gabe smiled despite his worry for his sister.
“Very. All I can say is, it’s about damn time. I was afraid you were going to become one of those lecherous old bachelors who always has a blond bimbo on his arm.”
“Not a chance, sis. Just waiting for the right woman. This one is about as far from a bimbo as you can get.”
“And she’s the right woman?” Elise asked.
“She’s the right woman for me,” answered Gabe. “So I’ll call Father Joe and set this up.”
“There’s another tiny problem,” Elise interrupted.
“Yes?”
“Quincy’s not a ping-pong ball and I don’t want him to feel like we’re bouncing him around. He’s never flown before, Gabe, at least not as far as I know. I don’t think he’s ever even been out of Illinois. I spoke with him and while he tried to hide it, I could tell he’s pretty nervous about making the trip by himself. You think you could come out here next weekend? You know, find a legitimate reason to come to Chicago? He could fly back with you and it would all seem on the up and up.”
“Possibly,” Gabe said. “Let me talk to Marsha and to Father Joe. I’ll see if we can get the interviews set up a little early. It would be good for Quincy to sit in on them anyway. He could learn from what his fellow students have to say, watch how they handle themselves. Might work out best for everyone concerned.”
“What about Eva? Can she come with you? I’d like to meet her. She must be very special to have my big brother publicly proclaiming his love for her.”
“I’ll ask, but if I know Eva, she’ll say no. It would be short notice and she takes her responsibilities very seriously. Don’t worry, Lise, you’ll meet her. I believe she has plans to fly back to Iowa in a few weeks to see her family. If I’m still in the Midwest, I can probably coax her into taking a little detour.”
“Sounds good. Thanks, Gabe. I really appreciate this and I’m sure Quincy will too, even if he doesn’t admit it.”
“Don’t worry, sis,” Gabe reassured her, “I’ll handle everything. You rest and keep your chin up. Give David my regards and kiss the girls and mom for me.”
“I will. Love you, big brother.”
“Love you too, Lise.” Gabe clicked off.
“So we need to go to Chicago earlier than planned, huh?” asked Marsha from where she stood in the doorway. “Is Elise all right?”
“She’s pregnant. Four months. The doctor wants her to stay in bed. I think they’re worried she might lose the baby. My brother…the boy I told you about, Quincy, he was supposed to stay with Elise for a month and then come out here for the rest of the summer. He’s going to be coming here instead. I need to fly out there and pick him up, only he can’t know I’m picking him up.”
“Then I guess we’ll need to combine the trip with our interviews,” said Marsha.
“You read my mind,” Gabe replied. “Can you make the arrangements? Talk to the families? I’ll get on the phone to Father Joe’s secretary.”
“When will we be leaving, boss?”
“Friday. Early.”
“Okay, guess I better get my ass moving then. We have a busy week ahead of us.”
Gabe dialed the school in Chicago. He was able to reach Father Green’s secretary, but the man had already returned to teaching part time. Gabe shook his head, it figured that Father Green wouldn’t stay down for long. The secretary said she’d have Father Green call him back when he was free. Gabe doubted the priest would be able to make much time for him during the last week of school, but if Quincy was willing, he and Gabe could spend a little time together. Gabe could show him some of his favorite Chicago haunts.
He wondered if there was any chance Eva could go, but he dismissed the thought. She would never leave her bosses and her clients in the lurch like that. He called her cell anyway, but there was no answer. She had the day off today, now that the graduation party was over. Gabe had had a surprisingly good time at the party, even though the only person he knew was Eva. He’d tossed a football around with the boys, chatted with Dr. and Mrs. White. Sampled Eva’s fantastic buffet. Had a long talk with Jason about Eva.
The corner of Gabe’s mouth turned up. Despite the fact that the boy had a steady girlfriend, he obviously harbored a serious crush on Eva. He’d taken Gabe aside and warned him that if he didn’t treat Eva well, he’d have to answer to him. Trying to look equally serious, Gabe reassured the young man he’d do right by her. Gabe shook his head. Eva had that effect on men. Made them want to protect her although she was perfectly capable of standing up for herself. Perhaps it was the big brown eyes, her innocent smile and sweet voice. Eva managed to rouse those innate protective instincts in almost every male she encountered. Luis had succumbed. Adam had been immediately smitten. Jason and his friends had her back. It seemed as if her bosses watched out for her like guardian angels. Gabe doubted she had any clue as to how the male sex reacted to her. He actually couldn’t believe his luck. A woman like Eva should have been off the market a long, long time ago. Fortunately for him, she was, as she described herself, selective. Talk about boosting a guy’s ego, among other things. And man, that woman could cook.
Even Marsha had nearly swooned when she ate the piece of chocolate cake Gabe brought her. “Oh my God…marry her… I’m telling you marry Eva,” she declared after her first bite, “For this cake if for no other reason.”
When Gabe tasted the cake himself, the flavors had exploded in his mouth. The texture was like chocolate velvet poured over his tongue. Tender, moist, creamy, rich, deep and dark. No wonder Jason had requested it. The silkiness alone kicked Gabe’s imagination into overdrive and he’d stood there, barely chewing, imagining some pretty intriguing things. When he had asked Eva how she did it, she merely shrugged.
“Oh, dark cocoa powder, sour cream, hot water…a few family secrets. It’s not all that difficult. My grandma taught me how to make this cake years ago. If you like this, wait until you try my whiskey cake,” she winked at him, “Another family secret. It’s how my mom caught my dad.”
Gabe believed every single word. If her mother was half the cook Eva was…
Gabe had brought her two bottles of wine, gifts from Adam, and he’d watched some of her prep work for Jason’s party. He’d asked her how she knew what flavors went together. How much salt to use? How much pepper? How she could get away with blending two such diverse ingredients as walnuts and cream cheese in her tuna salad and manage to make the stuff so addictive? Or mixing crushed pineapple and toasted almonds into chicken salad? How she could include habanero peppers in her fresh fruit salsa yet somehow meld them with other the other ingredients so that they became background hot and not just mouth-scalding, can’t taste anything the rest of the day hot? How did she know when enough of any one spice was enough?
“I don’t know,” she answered, “I just do. It’s like this…and I don’t think I can explain it any better…since I was a kid, I’ve been a very oral person…” she smiled in answer to Gabe’s grin before she continued. “I can put something in my mouth and deconstruct it. It’s like working backward from the finished product to the original raw materials. You know, like time-lapse photography, only backward. I guess it’s the same way a sommelier tastes wine. Take M&M’s for example.”
“The candy?” Gabe asked.
“Yeah, the candy. Each color has a unique flavor.”
“They all taste alike to me,” he said.
“Not to me,” Eva replied. “When I was a teenager, we used to do blindfold taste tests with M&M’s. Probably more than ninety-five percent of the time, I could guess which color I had in my mouth. It’s become a little harder since they added some new colors—the new ones all taste alike to me—and they got rid of my favorite, light brown. Those were the yummiest, followed by green, yellow, red, and then dark brown. Orange brought up the rear.”
“Okay,” he said, “I’ll give you that, but how do you know what seasonings go with what? Trial and error?”
“No, not at all. First, I know what I like. Second, my goal is to bring out or enhance the underlying flavor of whatever I’m working with, not hide it. If I’m working with something I want to hide, then I shouldn’t be using it in the first place. You would be surprised at what goes together. Sometimes it’s very unexpected, like salmon and maple syrup.”
“You’re kidding?” Gabe interjected.
“No, I’m not. I love salmon, but not the way most restaurants prepare it. Salmon is a very oily fish, very rich. And if you take that oily fish and then add more fat, like, say, you cook it in butter or olive oil. For me, the fish becomes so rich that I find it inedible. I actually get sick, really sick, when I eat it. I think that the fat in the salmon alone is enough. That’s why I never add fat when I cook it, and in fact, I actually like to dry my salmon out just a little, pull some of the fat out, maybe with a sweet, spicy, smoky marinade, and then grill it or pan sear it just as it is.” She looked up from her work. “Have you ever eaten salmon candy?”
Gabe laughed. “Can’t say that the thought has ever occurred to me.”
“It’s wonderful. I can eat a whole big bag in one sitting. I’d be happy to make you some,” she offered.
“I’d like that,” answered Gabe, still smiling. “But is there anything you don’t want to work with? Any food you won’t eat?”
“You already know that I don’t eat red meat,” replied Eva, tossing a pasta salad. “I have a rule—I refuse to eat anything that plays when it’s young. Won’t do it. I eat fish. I’ll eat a little chicken or turkey, if that’s all there is, but for protein, I mostly stick to eggs and dairy products. We raised cattle and pigs, my dad still does. I loved those babies. To me, eating them was like eating the family dog. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
“But you cook meat.”
“Because that’s what my clients want. I don’t cook it for myself.”
Gabe was curious. “So what else don’t you like?”
“I detest tarragon.”
“Tarragon?”
“Yeah,” Eva replied. “It’s an herb that everyone, and I mean everyone, says you should pair with fish. The stuff gags me. As far as I’m concerned, if you use tarragon with fish, all you taste is the tarragon and to me, it tastes way too sweet. I can’t stand it.” Eva thought for a moment. “Call me crazy, but I don’t like Portobello mushrooms, either. Everyone else seems to think they’re a great meat substitute so I get offered grilled Portobellos a lot. I like them fine when they’re young, you know, criminis, Italian brown mushrooms? That’s all Portobello mushrooms are, old criminis. I like intense flavors, but the flavor of a Portobello is too intense for me, especially when they’re grilled. Oh, and I’m not all that fond of lobster mushrooms, too fishy. Fishier than fish, in my opinion. A bad lobster mushroom tastes like a nasty fish that’s a week too old.”
Eva looked up from her cutting board. She grinned at Gabe. “And I hate green peppers. Red are fine, orange and yellow are fine, and just about any hot chili is better than fine, but a plain old green pepper? Sometimes I can’t even be in the same room with them…them and old-fashioned breakfast sausages. Ugh. The smell of either green peppers or breakfast sausages cooking makes my stomach turn. My mom is always careful when I go home for a visit because my dad loves breakfast sausage and one of his favorite meals is veal with green peppers and onions. She won’t make either when I’m around, poor guy.”
“I hate green peppers too,” said Gabe. “You asked me about food dislikes the first time we talked.”
“Yeah,” replied Eva, “I remember. I figure if I’m ever pissed off at you, I’ll hide green peppers in something.”
“Eva,” Gabe pitched his voice was low, “What do I taste like? If you were blindfolded, could you recognize me?”
She stopped what she was doing and walked slowly around the counter. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her chest to his. Eva laid her mouth against his ear.
“Of course,” she said softly, her breath tickling him. “You, Gabriel Abbott, are a sprinkle of Fleur De Sel de Guerande,” she whispered, her voice husky, and the front of his jeans grew taut. “Fresh maitake mushrooms sautéed in raw, unsalted butter with just a bit of marjoram.” She ran a hand along his hard length. “A slow swallow of Nonino grappa that I can feel all the way to my belly button.”
Eva slid down his body and dropped to her knees. She ran her fingers up the front of his jeans, drew down the zipper and freed him. Her palm stroked him, her fingers winding their way up his hard cock. She licked him, using just the tip of her tongue, savoring his taste, his feel, like he was her favorite flavor of ice cream.
God… Gabe groaned and closed his eyes, trying his best to remain upright. It took every ounce of control he had not to throw her on her back and bury himself inside her sweet heat. He wanted to let Eva take charge for a change. When he felt her lips slide around the head of his cock and her mouth close over him, he thought he might explode right then. Her hands slid around his backside. The muscles of his buttocks contracted beneath them. She pulled him closer. Eva began to suck. Gabe’s head dropped forward. He grabbed the edge of the counter and held on tight, thrusting into her mouth carefully, the movement of his hips matching her rhythm.
Moments later, Gabe pushed Eva away with a growl. He dropped to the floor with her, lay her down, quickly stripped off her shorts and her panties, spread her legs and impaled her in one motion.
“Jesus Christ…” he muttered.
“Gabe,” Eva cried out his name as she came.
Damn, she was wet and hot and tight.

Gabe pulled himself out of his daydream and he found himself staring out the window of his office, still thinking about what they’d done. He knew Eva’s taste. He’d know it if he was blind, deaf and dumb. He couldn’t describe hers with as much detail as she could his. But he knew the nuances of her taste like he knew the taste of his favorite cabernet. She tasted of musk and amber, brown sugar, a bite of black pepper, and just a hint of vanilla.
He felt, more than heard, his cell phone ring. He pulled it out of his pocket automatically.
“Gabriel Abbott.”
“Hello, Gabriel, this is Stephanie.”
Gabe paused for a moment. Stephanie was the last person he expected to hear from. Why was she calling him? Before he could ask, she spoke up.
“Gabriel, I’m calling to apologize for my behavior on Friday night.”
“I don’t think I’m the person you should be apologizing to,” he replied.
“Yes, I know, but I feel like I owe you an apology as well. It’s none of my business whom you date. We hadn’t made any commitment to each other.”
She sounded very contrite. Gabe decided to be conciliatory. “No, we had no commitment, but perhaps an apology on my part is in order as well. I didn’t mean to lead you on and I’m sorry if I did. However, if you’re angry, be angry with me, not Eva. She didn’t know about you.”
“Yes,” Stephanie replied, “I believe that. I just wanted to tell you that I intend to put everything that’s happened behind us. I imagine we’ll be seeing each other from time to time and I’d like our relationship to remain cordial.”
“I’d like that too, Stephanie.”
“No hard feelings?”
“No hard feelings, Steph.”
“So how about I take you to coffee sometime this week, just friends. To make it up to you.”
“Not necessary,” said Gabe. “You don’t have to worry, I’m not one to hold grudges against friends and business associates.”
“No, really, Gabriel, it would make me feel better.”
“Sorry, Steph, but I’ll be leaving town later this week and I have a lot to do.”
“Maybe I can have a rain check?” she asked. “When do you get back?”
“Not for three or four weeks. I’m not quite sure. Frankly, Steph, it might be awkward. I don’t want to give you the wrong impression and I’m with Eva now.”
“Yes, of course,” Stephanie replied. “I didn’t mean to pressure you.”
“No pressure, just the facts. Sorry. It’s never been my intent to hurt your feelings,” added Gabe.
“You haven’t,” claimed Stephanie. “Don’t worry about it. Have a nice trip.” Her voice sounded a bit clipped.
“Thanks. Goodbye Stephanie.” Gabe clicked off. Well, he thought, that’s one way to get rid of an inconvenient hard on.
Marsha entered his office. “I’m holding plane reservations for this Friday and I’ve arranged for six interviews on Monday and Tuesday. Over the next few days, I can try reach the rest of the students and their families. Between the schools in Chicago, those in Minneapolis, Milwaukee, and in Omaha, we should be busy for several weeks.”
“That’s about what I figured,” replied Gabe. “Sounds good. Go ahead and purchase the tickets.”
“Will do. Why was Stephanie Lindstrom calling?”
Gabe rolled his eyes. “Do you hear everything that goes on in my office? I’ll have to remember to close my door.”
“It’s my job. Why was she calling?”
“To apologize.” Gabe explained to Marsha what had happened between Stephanie and Eva on Friday night.
“Good for Eva,” she replied. She said, “Don’t trust the apology. She’s working some angle.”
“Why do you say that?” asked Gabe. “Seems pretty straight forward to me.”
“That’s because you’re a man,” Marsha replied. “An apology from a man is likely to be exactly that, an apology, because men aren’t big on apologies, so if a man says he’s sorry, then he’s sorry. An apology from Stephanie Lindstrom? That’s another animal altogether. I don’t trust her,” she repeated. “She’s up to something.”
“Marsha, I think the cake has gone to your head. She’s all talk. A woman like Stephanie isn’t going to go after someone who doesn’t want her. I made that clear.”
“Well,” said Marsha, “She may not go after you directly. She may try a sideways approach.”
Gabe laughed. “I think you’re reading too much into this, Marsha. She’s not going to waste her time. Besides, I have nothing to hide.”
“No,” agreed Marsha, “But you do have someone to protect. Eva.”
Gabe stared at his assistant for a moment. “You’re letting your imagination run away with you. Even if Stephanie was vindictive, what do you expect her to do? Hire a hit man?”
“I wouldn’t put it past her.”
“Marsha, you don’t think much of members of your own sex, do you?”
“Oh,” said Marsha, “On the contrary, I think very highly of members of my own sex. I just know the difference between a pit viper and a harmless garter snake.”
“You have nothing to be worried about. Eva will be fine. Stephanie’s a lawyer, for God’s sake. She knows where to draw the line. She wouldn’t risk her sterling reputation over something so petty.”
“Depends upon her definition of petty.”
“Marsha, you overestimate my charms. I doubt I’ll hear much of anything from Stephanie unless it’s about business. Which you and I need to get back to if I’m going to spend time with Eva before we leave.”
“You’re the boss,” said Marsha, as she strolled to her desk. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”