A mudroom was just off of the old kitchen. There was a deep work sink in there, jackets on hooks, work boots, a five-gallon bottled-water dispenser. The service stairs ran their way through the mudroom-the narrow staff stairs up to the second and third floors as well as the steps that went down to the wine cellar.
The second kitchen, which had been added on in the past few years, was a charm-free stainless-steel restaurant kitchen designed for high-volume, high-speed output. It had multiple stoves and prep stations, a walk-in pantry and freezer, a separate entrance for kitchen staff and deliveries.
This kitchen was not in use. Not a soul was in there.
“When we just have a few guests, we do breakfast ourselves,” Jory explained, her gaze following Des’s. “The kitchen staff doesn’t arrive until later. Of course, today they won’t be coming at all. I thought we’d do a big breakfast, get some fuel into everyone. Eggs and bacon, a big pot of oatmeal, bread and jam. Sound good?”
“Like heaven,” said Des, helping herself to more coffee.
“I agree,” Hannah said as she turned the bacon, which was starting to sizzle and smell sensational.
Jory got a box of Irish oatmeal out of the cupboard and put another pot on the stove. “One good thing I can say about Astrid’s is we’re always prepared for bad weather. Plenty of food and clean dishes, plus we have gallons of bottled water. That’s all we ever pour at the table.”
“You folks have trouble with your well?”
“Not usually, no,” Jory said, filling an eight-cup Pyrex measure from the water dispenser. “But the coliform bacteria can get a bit iffy during the rainy season, and you don’t ever want to send sixty paying guests home with a dose of the trots. You can’t afford to take that chance. It’s like Norma always says…” Jory’s voice caught, the emotion welling up in her. “Every guest is our most important guest. Which reminds me. Is Mitch on any kind of a special diet?”
“Yes, he is. It’s called the I Never Get Full Diet.”
Jory let out a soft laugh. “And how does he take his eggs?
“Any way you cook them, as long as they’re good and hot. Mitch hates cold eggs, especially if they’re scrambled. He’s been known to hold forth for twenty minutes on the subject of cold scrambled eggs and how they taste exactly like… Damn, will one of you kindly stick a fork in me? I’m starting to sound just like June Cleaver.”
“You are not,” Hannah said. “You sound sweet. I wish someone knew my likes and dislikes that well. I wish someone cared.”
“Me, too,” sighed Jory. “That’s all I ask for. A man who cares.” She stood there with her brow furrowed, taking stock of their progress. “Let’s see… bacon’s going good, and the oatmeal won’t take long once this water’s boiling. I’ll slice up some bread. We can scramble the eggs last, okay?”
“Anything I can do to help?” offered Des.
“We’re on it,” Hannah said briskly, breaking the eggs into a bowl as she tended to the bacon.
“You seem very at home in a kitchen.”
Hannah let out a horsey bray of a laugh. “I should. I started waiting tables when I was sixteen. I’ve worked short-order, slung beers. You didn’t think I was some rich kid, did you? Because I am totally not. My dad works for the U.S. Postal Service. Mom’s an OR nurse at Bethesda Medical.”
“Is that right?” Des took a seat at the table, keeping her company.
“And do you want to talk lack of cool? When I was at Georgetown I lived at home in my same old room in my parents’ same old tract house in Falls Church. Commuted to and from campus every day in my ten-year-old Honda Civic. Even so, I’ll still be paying off my student loans until I’m forty. Not that I’m complaining, but nothing ever comes easy for me. Just the good Lord’s way of testing me, I guess. Like after I got Coffee Klatch made, you know? I figured it was all going to be lollipops and balloons. Development deals left and right. I was applauded at Sundance, you know? But you girls can’t imagine how hard it is out there in Movietown, U.S.A. How ambitious everybody is. How deceitful.” Hannah shook her head as she stood there turning the bacon. “When my internship ended, there was nothing. Nobody wanted me. I was desperate to stay out there, but I couldn’t afford to. Before I knew what hit me, I couldn’t even scare up my rent money. So I came home with my tail between my legs, moved back in with my folks. I honestly didn’t know what I was going to do until I met Aaron. He’s been the answer to my prayers. Working with Ada this way is such an incredible opportunity, and Aaron’s been… you wouldn’t believe how sweet he’s been.”
“Well, you are doing him, right?” Jory said. More a statement than a question.
Hannah whirled, gaping at her in shock. “You just said what to mer
“Sorry, I guess that came off a little blunt. But we don’t have any secrets in this kitchen. Long-standing castle rule.”
“You could have warned a person. And why on earth would you…?”
“I saw you two sucking face on the observation deck yesterday.”
Hannah reddened immediately. “Oh…”
“As did Carly,” Des said. “She mentioned it to me last night.”
“This is awful, just awful,” Hannah gasped, horrified. “I feel like some kind of steamy Jezebel. And I’m not, I swear. I’m a deeply religious person, and nothing like this has ever happened to me before in my whole life. It’s wrong. I know it’s wrong. It’s just that we’re so, well, good together.”
“You’re actually into him?” Jory seemed flabbergasted. “I figured it was strictly business on your part.”
Hannah said, “Look, I feel kind of funny talking about this, okay?”
“Sure, whatever.” Jory’s pot of water was boiling now. She dumped in the oatmeal and started stirring it. “I’m not judging you. We all do what we have to do. Besides, it couldn’t happen to a nicer girl. This is me being facetious.”
“You don’t like Carly?” Des asked her.
“What’s to like? She treats people like dirt. Yesterday morning, she ordered me to iron her silk things for her- like I’m her personal maid or something. Who the hell does that old bitch think she is? And who does she think she’s fooling? She’s got so much collagen in her face you can practically hear it sloshing around in there. She didn’t so much as thank me when I did do her ironing for her, let alone tip me. Just looked right through me. Take it from me, that woman has zero class. We see all kinds of millionaires up here, heads of big corporations. The ones who have real class treat our staff with respect. They treat everyone that way.” Jory glanced at Des uncertainly. “You must know what I mean, being resident trooper in a snooty place like Dorset, and a woman. And, well, you know…”
“Black? I absolutely do know what you mean.” Des was starting to like Jory Hearn. She was frank. She had brains. She had pride.
“Aaron told me that he and Carly have an open marriage,” Hannah blurted out suddenly. “That she’s cool with him seeing other women.”
“That’s sure not what I was hearing from her last night,” Des said. “She was talking divorce.”
“Carly’s going to divorce him?” Hannah’s tongue darted out of her mouth, wetting her flaky lips. “Man, I really stepped in something smelly, didn’t I?”
“That all depends on how you want things to turn out,” Des said.
“More than anything in the world, I care about getting Ada Geiger down on film,” Hannah said firmly. “And that’s the truth. But she doesn’t seem at all interested, and it’s pretty obvious that Aaron doesn’t have much influence with her. It’s dawning on me that this may not pan out for me professionally. And that really, really bites, because it’s awful tough out there right now in the cold cruel world.”
“I sure don’t know what we’ll do,” Jory chimed in gloomily, stirring the oatmeal with a wooden spoon. “This place has always been home for both of us. Norma treated us like we were her own children. Now what? Who knows what’ll happen to the castle? I’ll get by, I guess. But Jase has a hard time in the outside world. The poor thing’s so quiet.”
“I’m sure you’ll both have a place here with Les,” Des said.
“But what if Les decides to sell out?”
“Then you’ll move on, and survive.”
Jory folded her arms in front of her chest, hugging herself tightly. “Sorry, I don’t mean to whimper. I just feel like my whole world is falling apart.”
“It’s changing,” Des said. “And you’ll keep changing with it. The day you stop doing that is the day you end up like that nice lady in bed upstairs.”
“It’s a little scary,” Jory confessed.
