Ain't She Sweet (Seven Brides for Seven Mothers #2) - Whitney Dineen Page 0,11

were in high school.” I can’t help myself; I have to tease him about that.

“Just because I liked the way you look on the outside doesn’t mean I like you.”

“That’s very superficial,” I tell him.

“Seems to me the whole modeling business is superficial. You’d think you’d know that being part of it for so long.”

There is no getting along with this guy, so I stop trying. We make the rest of the trek back to the lodge in total silence, which is far preferable to the conversation we had been having.

I take my sweater off as soon as we walk into the kitchen and immediately head toward my corner workstation. There’s a gallon-size plastic bucket full of gorgeous Italian plums waiting for me.

“What are you making with all the plums?” James asks, finally breaking the quiet between us.

“Plum upside-down cakes, and cinnamon and cardamom poached plums. I’m serving them with homemade vanilla bean ice cream and brandy whipped cream, respectively.”

“Yum. I don’t suppose you need a taste tester to make sure everything is edible?”

I can easily imagine what a young James Cavanaugh looked like by the eager expression on his face. It’s unnervingly endearing. “If you’re still here when everything is ready, you can try them,” I concede.

“In that case, why don’t I go? We can continue our meeting over plummy desserts later this afternoon. What time should I come back?”

The only reason I’m agreeing to this is because I work faster when no one is talking to me and I really do need to get tonight’s specials ready. “Come back at three,” I tell him before walking away.

The cool blast of air from the walk-in refrigerator is exactly what I need to bring me back to the task at hand. I’m about to enter when I see Geoffrey standing in front of me, staring at a box of eggplant. He’s not moving a muscle.

“Are you waiting for them to talk to you?” I ask good-naturedly.

He doesn’t answer, so I reach out and touch his shoulder. “You okay?”

The chef comes out of his trance and asks, “Do you think there’s a market for a suppertime ratatouille omelet?”

“I’d eat it, if that helps.”

He tips his head back and forth. “I’m a huge fan of breakfast for dinner and I was thinking ratatouille would be a way to elevate the experience. I’d serve it with freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano and a simple side salad. We could recommend a glass of Montepulciano d'Abruzzo to go with it.”

“I could eat that every night for a month.”

“What kind of dessert would you pair with it?” he asks. “Maybe we could run the special including the wine and dessert?”

“I’m already poaching some plums. Why don’t I whip up a dozen or so individual panna cotta and we can top them with that? That way it will stay within your Mediterranean theme.”

His blue eyes sparkle eagerly. “Whip up some panna cotta … no more beautiful words have ever been spoken. Let’s do it!”

Geoffrey shoots me a double thumbs up before picking up his eggplant. “By the way, I talked to the wedding planner for the Thanksgiving wedding we have coming up. The bride and groom want a pumpkin cake with cream cheese frosting. It only needs to be big enough to feed forty.”

A jolt of sadness hits me when I recall that had Romaine and I not broken up we would have been getting married this November. I had toyed with the idea of having a pumpkin wedding cake. I love baked goods made with pumpkin.

My mind drifts to all the pumpkin treats in my repertoire. I would rather talk food than fashion any day of the week, which just goes to show I made the right decision to leave the runway behind. I like being in the Willamette Valley where nobody knows who I am, but the truth is that I’ve had enough solitude. I’m ready to have a friend or two to hang out with in my free time. The problem is that the only people I know are the ones I work with.

It’s not that I couldn’t be friends with them, but for some reason I feel like I should keep my work life separate. I wonder if there are any local businesses or schools that offer classes; that way I could learn a new skill while meeting new people.

I make a mental note to see if there’s a beginning gardening class somewhere. I’d love to walk into my meetings with James sounding way the