“It’s hard to open a restaurant together that way. You could still do catering, though.”
“Catering?”
Sean used a pair of tongs to flip the lamb chops before dusting grated rosemary on the potatoes. “Remember the leftover beef stew that you sent home with me on Wednesday?”
“Yes?”
“Well, I brought it into work on Thursday for lunch. I reheated it in the microwave and the smell filled the break room. In a good way,” he added hastily. “The guys all wanted a sample. In the end, they ate my lunch, and I had to go to Subway to get a sandwich.”
“Oh, you poor thing.” Debra chuckled. “Glad they enjoyed it.”
“They loved it. In fact, Hank said his wife was tearing her hair out over organizing their anniversary dinner party. He’d suggested getting it catered, but she refused, saying she couldn’t find anything good and affordable.”
“Hank Friedman? The fire captain?”
He nodded.
“I know Hank and Patti. I wonder if—” She shook her head. “No, it would be crazy.”
“If you never ask, the answer is always no.”
“I don’t think Patti likes me.”
“Why?”
Debra shrugged. “The same reason Ray called me ‘the other woman.’ I have a bit of a history in this town, and here, it’s hard to shake the past.”
“Holly got over it.”
Debra chuckled, but the sound was without humor. “Yes, she did. She was the one person I thought would never get over it, but she did.”
“Maybe the others will too. If this is your entry point into your own business, can you afford to let it slide?”
She stared at Sean. He stared back. He did not seem like he was joking or teasing.
She swallowed through the lump in her throat. He believes I can do it. He really believes I can. “I…I’ll talk to Patti tomorrow.”
“Awesome.” Sean set a plate of lamb chops and fingerling potatoes on the island. “Now, give it a taste and tell me if I’m good enough to set up a catering company, too.”
The potatoes were a little too bland for her taste, but it was easily remedied with a toss from the saltshaker. The lamb chops, however, had been grilled to medium rare perfection. “This is terrible,” she moaned dramatically. “I have a competitor, and I haven’t even started my catering business yet.”
Sean laughed. “Enjoy.” He looked out of the kitchen. “Hey, Aidan. Want to try some lamb?”
“Yuck.” Aidan carried his plate into the kitchen. “I’m all done.”
Debra glanced at it. “You ate the coleslaw too.”
“Yup. Sean said I had to.”
With a clatter, Aidan deposited his plate into the dishwasher and vanished down the hallway, Jewel at his heels.
Debra looked at Sean. “Did you hypnotize my son?”
Sean shrugged. “You heard our conversation. I told him he needed his veggies.”
“You make it look easy. Veggies have historically been a major point of contention in this household. Why do you think I use so much mixed vegetables? They’re hard to pick out of the rest of the food.”
Sean exploded into laughter.
The sound warmed her and disturbed the butterflies hibernating in her stomach.
“You’re sneaky,” he said. “My mom could have learned a thing or two from you.”
“With Aidan, I usually feel like I’m a half-step behind.”
“That’s the problem with smart kids. It’s hard to stay ahead of them.”
“You must have been a handful for your parents.”
“Me? I was the angel. My brother, though.” He shook his head. At that moment, his cell phone rang, the distinctive tune the same one she heard each evening. That evening, as with all the other evenings, he ignored the call. He did not even look at the screen to see who was calling. It was as if he knew.
Neither spoke until the phone stopped ringing. “My brother,” Sean continued, as if the conversation had not been silenced by an incoming call. “My brother was trouble. A ton of trouble.”
Chapter 6
The next day, Debra smoothed down her dress, cleared her throat, and rang the doorbell on Hank and Patti Friedman’s house. She had rushed out during her lunch break. If Patti said no, the forty-five minutes would be more than enough time to return to the café to continue the shift. If Patti said yes, Debra had no idea how long the discussion might take.
Footsteps sounded on the other side and the door opened. Patti, her blond hair scrunched into tight curls, blinked hard. “Debra?”
“Hi, Patti. Someone heard Hank mention that you were planning an anniversary dinner, and I wondered if I might help you with that?”
Patti’s brow furrowed with a frown. “Help with dinner? Why would you?”
“Hank tried a sample of my beef stew a few days ago at the firehouse, and he said he liked it. I can help you plan a menu and even prepare the food so it’s easy to serve. That way you can focus on your guests and on having a good time.”
“I…I remember you’d always liked cooking.”
Debra nodded. “I’ve kept my hand in it over the years. I’ve thought of opening a restaurant, although financially it’s a bit of a stretch right now. I can do private catering, though. If you can provide me with a list of your favorite dishes, or Hank’s, or what you’re thinking of serving at dinner, perhaps I can provide you with a sample meal, so you can taste it for yourself and see if it’s something you’d be comfortable serving to your guests.”
Patti drew a deep breath, indecision flickering in her eyes. Debra braced herself for the refusal, but Patti’s lips stretched into a tight smile. “Okay, I guess we’ll see what you’ve got. Why don’t you come in for a minute, and we’ll chat about the menu?”
On the other side
