“Lara, that’s your job. You make the pastries and sweets for the Lodge.”
He could almost see her shrug as she answered, “I didn’t have time. I’m sure there’s something else you can give the guests tonight. I made plenty of cookies for the front desk and there’s some ice cream in the freezer.”
“You want me to feed them cookies for dessert?” She had to be kidding. The Lodge wasn’t five-star rated, but it was well-regarded throughout the area and had a reputation to keep up.
“Yeah, why not? Everyone loves my peanut butter cookies.” Voices murmured in the background on Lara’s side and she was quiet, then came back on the line. “Listen Taylor, I’ve really got to go. I’ll make sure to do the desserts tomorrow, okay?”
She hung up before he could inform her that it was most definitely not okay. He closed his eyes and rubbed at the ache in his jaw from gritting his teeth during their conversation. The Lodge’s former pastry chef, Cassie, had always been the consummate professional, even though, like Lara, she’d also had a cake decorating business on the side. But Lara thought that just because her father owned the Lodge, she could pull a stunt like this.
His stomach clenched. It was times like this that he really missed the camaraderie he’d had with Meg. She’d always known how to calm him down—although, ironically, her own run-in with Lara had caused her to quit her job at the Lodge and go to work full-time at the resort she’d recently purchased with some friends. Four months ago, his life had been much different, before he’d ever heard of the Inn at Willa Bay or met Lara Camden. Unfortunately, there was no going back in time, and he had a restaurant to run.
He stood so suddenly that his chair careened across the plastic mat protecting the Berber carpet under his desk and hit the wall behind it. He took a deep breath and pushed the chair back in place. He’d figure out a solution to this problem—he always did.
His first stop was the walk-in freezer. Lara was right, there were several tall cartons of ice cream on the shelves. He frowned as he read each of the labels: Chocolate Cherry Cheesecake, Mint Chocolate Chip, and Orange Sherbet. If all Lara had made were peanut butter cookies, none of these would pair well. Still, they could offer scoops of ice cream à la carte. It was better than nothing.
He shut the freezer door and strode back out into the middle of the kitchen where Kaley and Brandon were talking in hushed tones.
Kaley looked up, her eyes filled with hope. “Did you find anything?”
He shook his head. “No.” He fought hard to keep the anger out of his voice, but couldn’t keep a small amount from leaking through. “There was a miscommunication and she didn’t make the desserts for tonight.”
Kaley’s face fell. Missing desserts didn’t sound like a major issue, but it was one of the things the Lodge was famous for. A large part of Kaley’s income came from tips, so with a lower bill for dinner and disgruntled customers, her nightly earnings were at stake. Taylor sighed. He hated to let her or their guests down.
But what was he going to do? Desserts suitable for a fine dining establishment couldn’t just be pulled out of the air. Taylor surveyed the kitchen, his gaze landing on blocks of baking chocolate Lara had left out at the baker’s station. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.” He looked directly at Brandon. “Can you make a chocolate mousse?”
Brandon nodded. “Of course. One of the first things I learned in culinary school.”
Taylor snapped his fingers. “Perfect. Please make a batch of it and think about how we can jazz it up a little.” He turned to Kaley. “Let the guests know we have a special chocolate mousse and some wonderful, locally made ice cream on the menu tonight.”
Doubt clouded her expression. “Okay, but I’m not sure that’s going to be enough.”
“It’ll have to be for now.” Taylor had an idea, but he wasn’t sure if it would work. He jogged over to the grill and removed the fully-cooked meat. Brandon stood by his side, ready to take the plates over to his workspace. “Brandon, can you take over for thirty minutes? It shouldn’t be too busy until later in the evening.”
“Sure, no problem.” The sous-chef’s eyes were bright with curiosity, but he didn’t ask any questions.
Taylor jogged over to his