4
Mary pulled a tray of empanadas from the oven, humming at how they’d turned out.
“I have such great timing,” Daisy sang as she entered the kitchen. “Don’t know what it is, but I can smell that I’ll be having at least four.”
Daisy was not only Mary’s best friend on the planet, she also served as a manager for Mary’s catering business. Oh, they both told one another she’d only do it until things evened out and Mary could find a replacement, but for the time being, both women liked it that way and that was what counted.
When Daisy’s art career fully took off, Mary would hire a manager behind Daisy’s back so she wouldn’t feel guilty. But until then Mary knew it would keep Daisy working only one job other than her art instead of four.
“You’re my best taste tester anyway. Everyone else just says things are yummy. You’ll tell me if something is greasy or needs something.”
Daisy rolled her eyes as she grabbed a shrimp puff from a platter, popping it in her mouth. “First of all, you’ve never made anything your whole life that could be described as greasy. I bet if you made a bowl of grease as an entrée, it wouldn’t taste greasy.”
Mary smiled, satisfied and proud. She worked hard at what she did, but most of it her mother liked to say was Mary’s natural talent with food. It was her art. She just instinctively knew how to make things people loved to eat and drink.
Not that it wasn’t nice to hear that reinforced by her friends though.
“There’s a second thing. Lay it on me.” Mary began to core the green peppers and get rid of the seeds. The kitchen filled with the scent.
“This shrimp thing is awesome. I’d totally let this shrimp thing feel me up. Levi and I are hosting his parents. At his house of course.”
“Yes.”
Daisy’s grin was quick. “Like that? I haven’t even said what I needed yet.”
“You want me to make dinner for them. Something elegant and classic without being too heavy. Something with a twist because you are not classic, but exotic and delicious. You want them to know this but not in a negative sense. I’ll get you a few menu ideas. When is it?”
Daisy hugged her. “You’re awesome. How do you always know?”
“Because I love you, silly.”
“I’m so lucky.”
Mary grinned back. “We both are. Now you have Levi too, and that makes you even more lucky. His mother likes you already, which we both know was the biggest hurdle. No one cares what his dumb bitch sister-in-law thinks anyway. We’ll get Jules to make you a dessert that knocks their socks off.”
“I’ve never had a boyfriend like this.”
“That’s because he’s not your boyfriend.” Mary tipped the green pepper into the bowl with the cilantro, tomato and diced onion. “He’s your significant other in the best sense. He’ll be your husband one day. The daddy to your kids. My god, they’re going to be ridiculously beautiful kids I’ll spoil rotten.”
“Marriage?”
“Take that shock out of your voice. I know you too well. Of course, marriage. He lets you continue to live in your little house because it makes you happy and you can both pretend things aren’t totally serious yet. But they are.”
“Whoa now. Marriage is a ways off. Yes, we love each other. But he’s got issues and I’m still young. We have time.”
Mary used the hand blender to quickly pulse together the ingredients for the salsa-style dipping sauce.
“Sure you have time. But he’s not some guy who’ll be content to date you forever. He knows your value. Knows you’re amazing and he will want you under his roof. He’ll want you to marry him and have his babies. He’s traditional that way. And you want that too, even if you try to tell me you don’t.” She put some of the sauce into a little bowl, pushing it and an empanada to Daisy. “Taste.”
“More cilantro. You should open up like a counseling business you run while you prepare food. What about you? When do you find your forever?”
Mary shrugged. “I will when I’m supposed to. Right now, I have Luxe up and running. I’ve got jobs lined up for months. I’ve got the supper club booked for nearly a year. Profits are up. My friends are getting married. My brother has finally admitted he’s in love with Jules. I’m not opposed to forever. I want it and all. Just not right now. I feel like I’d shortchange a relationship in favor of my business. I want all my energy on that and I don’t want to have to feel guilty about it.”
Daisy nodded. “Fair enough. The dinner is in two weeks. There’ll be six. Well, I guess eight if you count me and Levi. His brother Jonah and Jonah’s daughter will be there as well as two of his other brothers. Mal and his wife are conveniently unavailable.”
Mal Warner’s wife had been atrociously rude to Daisy and thus was on Mary’s we-hate-you-forever list.
“It’s unavoidable that we’ll come into contact. Levi loves his brother. And I do too. Mal is a sweet guy. With horrible taste in women, obviously. But I don’t ever want Levi to feel like he has to choose me over his family. I won’t be that.”
“You aren’t that. People need to be responsible for what they do or say and to stop hiding behind the excuse that because it’s family no one should ever say anything.”
“Says the gal with the perfect family.”
Mary laughed. “Not perfect, but we do love each other. You were right about the sauce.” She poured it into a container so it could travel safely and tucked it into one of the big fridges.
“You’re still going to New York next month, right?”
Adrian was on a summer and early fall tour that had started just a few days after the wedding. For most of it, Gillian and Miles would travel with him. And then Gillian would bring Miles back so he could start school.
Next month they had a date at Madison Square Garden and as a big thank-you for all the wedding help, Adrian was flying out all their friends to see his shows there. Backstage passes. Swank boutique hotel. He’d even pulled some strings and gotten Mary reservations at a few restaurants she’d been dreaming about.
“Hell yes. I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Damien’s band opens for them. That’ll be interesting.” Daisy’s attempt at innocence made Mary laugh.
“Don’t make me sorry I told you.”
Daisy grinned, delighted. “It is your duty as my best friend to tell me about hot one-night stands with rock stars.”
“It certainly was hot. He texts me sometimes. Just little things here and there. Sometimes pictures from venues, that sort of thing. Oh and he asks for my opinion on where he should eat in whatever city they’re in.”
He could have never said another word. She wouldn’t have been offended. She understood the rules. Knew what he was.
But the little texts were . . . well, she felt like they had the beginnings of an actual friendship. Which she liked. He didn’t send her pictures of his dick. Didn’t sext her or anything like that. He asked her about her business and sent her pictures of food and landscapes.
Yes, she was looking forward to seeing him next month and would have been lying if she’d said she wasn’t hoping for a repeat of their scorching night—and the following morning—between the sheets.
“I think he’s sweet on you.”
Mary julienned the carrots for her veggie sushi. “I think he’s a drummer in a rock band who drinks a lot, parties a lot, has a lot of women and shows up in the tabloids on a regular basis. I don’t even really follow the celebrity news and I know these things. I just have no desire for that. At all.”
“Well, that’s just one side to him. He could be more.”
“Daze, we had hot sex. He knows where all a lady’s parts are and what to do with them. But I’m not one of those women who thinks she’s the one who can finally tame that bad boy. That way lies madness. I’m a lot of things, but I am not dumb. I don’t want that. I don’t want to be in the paper. I don’t want to have to worry about my picture online being picked apart by his fangirls. I see what it does to Gillian and Adrian didn’t even have that sort of reputation with women and partying. Anyway, it was fun. I know what it was. He knows what it was. That’s all. Don’t go trying to make it something it can never be.”
Daisy shrugged and Mary rolled her eyes, knowing that Daisy wouldn’t let it go until she was good and ready.
“Don’t eat those. That’s for an event later today. I made you extra. There’s a tray in the walk-in that has your name on it and a bag in the pantry for you as well.”
Mary took care of the people she loved. It made her happy to cook for them. Made her satisfied to know they got sustenance from what she prepared. Knowing she did it for them.
“What would I do without you?”
“Eat takeout a lot more. But you have no such worries because you’re stuck with me.”
“Thank God for it.”
* * *
She needed to run by her parents’ place to check in and take over some food. Her dad met her at the door, taking the bags from her.
“What’d you bring me, Bess?” No one else called her Bess but her dad. Her given name was Mary-Elizabeth. When she was little, her father had said Mary seemed such a serious name for a girl like her and he’d taken to calling her Bess. It had stuck.
“Gazpacho. Goat cheese tarts. Well, Jules made those. Roasted beet salad. Don’t make a face. Beets are full of wonderful stuff and I made them so you should give them a try.” She thrust the totes at him and moved past, toward the kitchen where her mother would be. “There’s salmon patties in the bag as well. Don’t eat them all at once.”
“Bless you.”
She shook her head, still smiling when she entered the room.
“Hello, you.”
Her mother turned her face up to receive Mary’s kiss.
“Hey.” The huge puzzle on the table was nearly finished. She’d taken up puzzles back when they were kids. Their dad had told them she needed it to calm her nerves after parenting them all day. Which was probably true.
“He’s probably already eaten four of those salmon patties.” Her mother spoke absently, her glasses perched on her nose as she looked over the remaining puzzle pieces.
“Probably. But they’re good for him. I made a batch for Ryan too, but took them to his house first. I know they’d never get out of here.”
Her mother laughed. “You’ve got your dad’s number. How’s business?” She looked up, taking a sip of her tea. “There’s tea. Freshly brewed.”
Mary got up to get herself a glass and to top off her mother’s. Her father wandered into the room and began putting things in the fridge.
“Good. I’ve got jobs for the next several months. I can pay my staff without stress. An agent called me three days ago. Said she thought I should put a cookbook together.”
“That’d be something now, wouldn’t it? Our Bess being a published author? And why shouldn’t people want to buy a cookbook with her recipes in it?”
She loved her parents more than anything. They were kooky, no doubt. But they were good, solid people who’d raised her and her siblings well. Always proud and supportive of them.
“I’m working up a proposal. We’ll see. I need to talk to Daisy about doing the photography for it.”
“You have your own talent with a camera. You might be stretched too thin though, so I’m sure Daisy would be a huge help. How’s that boyfriend of hers?” Her mother shot a glance in her dad’s direction as he opened up the second container of the salmon patties. “At least use a fork.”
“He digs her. She’s not quite sure what to do with him.” Mary snorted. “He’s big and bossy and handsome and sort of overwhelming. But he adores her. He buys her things. Takes her places.”
“She’d be bored shitless with a man who wasn’t like that. Girl’d run right over a lesser man.” Her mother had a way about her. Always seeing to the heart of things. It was sort of scary, and yet Mary admired it all the same and hoped the best parts rubbed off on her.
“Probably.”
“And why shouldn’t he buy her things? It’s not like she expects it. But he’s got the money and wants to treat her. I hope I raised you well enough not to turn down gifts from people when they want to do for you.”
“I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to land a rich older boyfriend to know for sure.” She winked at her dad, who glowered for a moment.
“Jeanne, you stop it now. Bess makes her own way.”
Her mother sighed. “Of course she does. She’s not a whore. I’m saying that people should be able to do for others. Mary brings us food how many days a week? We never pay her for it because it’s her way of taking care of us. She does it for everyone. Levi does for Daisy because he can. I bet you the girl makes amazing art for him and gives it to him as a gift. Given her talent, that’s sort of the equivalent of jewelry or a trip. Generosity is important.”
* * *
She was tucked into bed with a book hours later when her phone buzzed with an incoming text.
Damien.
Sitting here drinking an excellent glass of red wine after an awesome steak. Was thinking you’d probably have something far more tasty to accompany it than the plain old potato they served.
She picked her phone up and started to type.
Probably. But I’m gifted that way. What city are you in?
Her phone rang.
“I’m in St. Louis.”
There was a lot of noise in the background.
“Sounds like it’s busy where you are.”
“I’m in my hotel room. Well, actually, Paddy’s room. They’re blowing off steam. Big show tonight.”
She blew off steam in really different ways, apparently. It sounded loud and wild and she was glad she wasn’t there. Well, mostly, though she wouldn’t mind jumping on Damien if she had him in the flesh.
“Ah.”
“Little word for all you’re feeling.”
She laughed. “Just thinking that my blowing off steam usually means I make ice cream or go for a bike ride or hike. But I remember the last story I saw about you guys, so . . . ”
“Don’t believe everything you read.”
He didn’t sound amused.
“I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“I’m sorry. You didn’t. It’s just . . . it gets old having the tabloids follow you around and make stuff up. You never know who’s gonna say what.”
She got that part. Knew Gillian had to deal with it now. But at the same time, what she heard in the background didn’t sound like they were playing backgammon.
“Adrian said you guys were coming out to MSG next month.”
He wished he hadn’t snapped at her. Their ease had stiffened up a little. And god knew she was mainly right.
She answered, not sounding angry or hurt at least. “Yeah. Looking forward to it. Adrian even managed to get me some really wonderful reservations at my coveted restaurants. Be nice to me and I might let you be my plus one.”
He realized he wanted to see her enjoying food from the standpoint of the consumer, not the producer. What would she be like in a restaurant? He knew she wholeheartedly embraced enjoying sex; he bet she was like that when she ate out too.
He found himself smiling, really smiling, for the first time in a few days. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. If you’re not busy you can come along. That way I can try more things off the menu and no one will think I’m a hog.”
She made him smile. A lot. “You have an ulterior motive? I’m scandalized.” He had no plans. Once he heard from Adrian that she’d be there, he’d kept his schedule clear during non-show hours so he could be with her.
“I do. I’m sneaky that way.”
He grinned, though she couldn’t see it. “Okay then. Good to know that in addition to all your other . . . talents, you’re also sneaky. It’s a good quality.”
They spoke for a little while longer before he hung up and went back into the main room where his brothers drank, smoked and shot the shit about the day’s events. A few women lounged around and he couldn’t find it in him to invite anyone back to his room.
He told himself it was that he was tired. But really, he knew on some level that Mary would disapprove if he was f*cking other women right before he f*cked her when she visited New York in a few weeks. And to be truthful, he wanted her to think well of him.
The specter of his past rose. He wasn’t ashamed of his hard living. But because he’d been that way and openly so, it had played in the media. He wasn’t just the drummer of Sweet Hollow Ranch. He was the party-boy, sex-hungry, hard-drinking drummer.
From the outside, he could see it all bringing pause to Mary. He liked her. He wanted to know her better. And he wanted very much for that reputation to not get in the way.