Rescued Page 17

  What she thought. Wasn’t that why she came here? But she couldn’t resist the gumbo that smelled so much like Amy’s kitchen. She spooned some of the thick gumbo, blew on it to cool it and tasted. “This is good. Really good.”

  “Great.” He pulled the bowl away and took the spoon from her hand as she reached out to for another taste.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Here, take a drink.” He handed her a glass of water.

  “I’m not thirsty.”

  “You have to cleanse your palate for the next dish.”

  She obediently sipped the water. “What’s the next dish?”

  “Fried chicken. White meat or dark?”

  She loved Amy’s fried chicken. The woman had won awards for her chicken. Alex’s mouth watered just thinking about it. “White, please.”

  Evan set a perfectly-browned chicken breast in front of her.

  “That looks great.” She picked it up with her fingers and took a bite. The coating crunched and the meat was moist. “Ohmigod. This is incredible. You sure know how to read a recipe.”

  “Thanks. I think.”

  She took another bite before he could take it from her. Wiping her mouth with a paper towel, she asked, “What’s next?”

  “This one was a little tricky. Miss Amelia’s Mixed Berry Pie.”

  “I love Amy’s pie. The mixed berry is my favorite, an amazing combination of tart and sweet. And her pie crust is to die for.” She dug a fork into the pie. The flavors exploded in her mouth and she sighed. “This is better than sex.” Then she opened her eyes, realizing she’d voiced the thought.

  Evan’s eyebrows lifted. “That wasn’t exactly what I was going for, but….”

  The flush warmed her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. But it is. Have you tried it?”

  “Tried it?” He grinned.

  “The pie. Here.” She dug back into the pie and lifted the fork to his mouth. He leaned forward and closed his lips over the crust.

  Alex felt a shiver roll through her as her eyes fixed on his mouth.

  “My God, you’re right. This is better than sex.”

  “Then you’re doing it all wrong,” came a sultry voice from the doorway.

  Chapter Twenty

  Evan chided himself for the brief flurry of guilt. He had done nothing wrong. Technically he and Tiffany were still married, but only for about thirty-six hours. He hoped. “What are you doing here?”

  Tiffany, still smiling, glanced at Alex, then back to Evan. “Looking for my husband.”

  Alex’s face flushed and she took a few steps away from him.

  Not wanting to tip his hand that he’d signed and sent off the divorce papers, Evan said, “For now.”

  Alex dropped the fork onto the pie plate. “I need to leave.”

  “No, you don’t.” Evan reached for her hand, but she tugged it away.

  Her eyes locked on his. “Yes, I do.” She brushed past Tiffany, murmuring a soft, “Excuse me.” And she was gone.

  Evan turned his gaze to Tiffany. “What do you want from me?”

  She moved closer, settling a palm on his chest. “I only want what’s mine.”

  He lifted her hand and shoved it aside. “I’m not yours.”

  Tiffany arched a sculpted eyebrow. “Well, you’re not free to be hers, either. Are you? Come on, Evan. We were good together once. We can get back there.”

  Evan laughed. “You are delusional. We are so far past going back. And, for the record, I’m not so sure things were all that good. I think we both thought we were in love. Or at least I did. We always wanted different things, though. You enjoyed being in the limelight, the wife of one of the top chefs in New York—the luxury apartment, the attention. I only ever wanted to be a chef. I can do that here.”

  She gasped. “Evan, you’re not seriously considering staying here.”

  “I have a home here and a business. A family heritage.”

  Tiffany scowled. “You forget one little detail—we’re still married. And that means I own half of everything you have. My attorney was an idiot before, but then you didn’t have anything to go after. I’m sure my new attorney will have a field day with you.” She turned and stormed out of the kitchen.

  New attorney? He hoped she was bluffing. He was fairly sure she was because of that flicker in her eyes, the one he’d always seen when she was stretching the truth. But he dug into his pocket for the name and phone number of Jeffrey Gold and punched it into his phone. Mr. Gold told him that, since he had not contested her filing and the clearly specified provisions for property distribution, and since his inheritance came to him after that filing, Tiffany would have no grounds to petition for a share of that inheritance. Of course, the fact the he had not signed the documents might be contested by her attorney. Once Mr. Gold assured him he would file the papers the moment they were delivered and bring closure to the pending divorce, Evan took in a breath and exhaled.

  He stepped outside and glanced across to the shelter where Alex was getting into her car. His plan had worked perfectly, with Tiffany effectively pushing Alex out of his life. So why did he feel sad about that?

  He cleaned up the kitchen and finalized the menu for Friday’s grand opening. It would feature his aunt’s favorite recipes. He left a note for Beth Lyons, whom he’d hired as Sous Chef, along with a stack of recipes for her to review. When he left the restaurant, he stopped beside the road and picked a bouquet of daisies, carrying them to his aunt’s grave. He wished he’d taken the time to get to know her when she was alive. Now he had to rely on old photographs and the stories of strangers.

  Evan stood in front of the Whiting family headstone. “I’m sorry I didn’t know you better. From what I hear, you were an amazing woman. Thank you for all you’ve given me—the money for culinary school, the house, and especially your recipes. I hope you’ll be proud of the restaurant since it bears your name.”

  He sat down and stretched out his long legs. “I could use some wise advice. Your friend, Alex—she’s a piece of work. I’ve never known a woman to be more stubborn, single-minded, and inflexible in my life. Try as I might, though, I can’t seem to get her out of my mind or out of my path. I like her.” He sighed. “I thought my life fell apart in New York, and in many ways, it did. That disaster brought me here, though. I’m not the superstitious type, understand, but I’m beginning to wonder if my coming here is part of some bigger plan. I read that note in your diary from when Alex and Kellie’s mother left. You wondered if it wasn’t for the best, a better plan for the girls. Got me to thinking, too.”

  He snorted. “Jeez, listen to me getting all New Age. Come on, Evan. Get real.” He got to his feet and brushed off his jeans. “Anyway, I stopped by to thank you and to invite you to the grand opening of Amelia’s on Friday. I hope you’ll be there in spirit and that you’ll be proud.”

  Evan strode back to his car, grateful no one had been present to hear his speech. He felt like an idiot, laying bare his heart and soul to his dead great-aunt. Therapy without a therapist. It was cheaper and less embarrassing.

  *

  Alex listened for Evan’s footsteps to fade before letting out the breath she’d been holding. That had been close. If he’d found her sitting on the other side of the headstone…. She had parked on the opposite side of the cemetery and walked the winding path to this section of graves. She twisted around and peered toward the road where Evan’s SUV disappeared in a plume of dust. He liked her? Despite the list of faults he’d rattled off, none of which she agreed with. Except for, perhaps, her being stubborn, but that was more of a quality in her book. She grinned. Evan Whiting liked her.

  Alex gave herself a mental head slap. “What are you—twelve? Have you forgotten he’s still married? Because Tiffany sure hasn’t.”

  Alex leaned back against the cool marble. She had come here for answers to her own questions and now she had them. Forget Evan Whiting and forget the troubles with the shelter created by his purchas
e of the adjoining lot to their properties. She had money and she had a design. All she needed now was a plot of land and a builder. Her shift at the Out Back started in a little over an hour. There would be time to make a few phone calls and get her plan set in motion.

  Her call to Kellie, commissioning her to find the land she’d need, left out the details about her recent encounters with Evan. “I decided it’s the most practical thing to do. Why sink money into adding onto the current shelter where there’s little room for expansion. I need a piece of land at least four times the size of what I now have. Preferably a little farther outside of town. That’ll cut down on the complaints we sometimes get about the noise.”

  “I’ll get on it.” Kellie paused. “Are you okay? You sound funny.”

  “I’m not funny. You’ve told me that many times.”

  “Ha, ha. Seriously, I’m worried about you.”

  “Don’t be. I’m fine. Looking forward to that blind date on Monday. I’m ready to move my life forward. This guy wouldn’t happen to be a contractor, would he?” She thought for a moment that Kellie had hung up. “Kel?”

  “Yeah, um…about that date.”

  “You’re not going to back out on me, are you?” What better way to get Evan Whiting out of her head than to date someone else? Kellie was a good judge of character, so Alex felt reasonably sure the guy her sister had set her up to meet would be someone decent, good looking, and employed.

  “I…no…but…. No, he’s not a contractor.”

  “Okay. See ya’, Sis. I have to call contractors now. This is so exciting.”

  By the time she headed to the grill for her shift, Alex had scheduled appointments with three contractors. She breezed into the kitchen and deposited her purse in the small pantry.

  “You look like you won the lottery,” Uncle Jack said.

  “In a way.” She told him about her plans.

  “Good for you. I’m sure your sister will find the perfect location for you.” He flipped a burger and pressed it down with a spatula. “Maybe it’s a good thing that Whiting got that vacant lot next to the Haven. It gave you the nudge you needed to think bigger.”

  She grinned. “Perhaps you’re right.” She tied on an apron. “Do we need to continue that conversation about you closing this place down?”

  He shook his head. “Not tonight. But it’s somethin’ to think about.” He lifted the basket from the fryer to drain an order of fries. Turning, he gazed at her. “You could do just about anything you want, anything you set your mind to. Not that the shelter isn’t important.”

  “But it’s not a source of income. I know and I promise I’ll think about that.” She looked around the kitchen. “There are so many good memories in here. I’d hate to let this place go.”

  Jack plated up the burger and fries. “Me, too. But sometimes you have to let go of something in order to take hold of something new.”

  Before she could respond, he carried the plate through the double doors to deliver it to a customer. Alex thought about that last statement. What was the ‘something new’ Uncle Jack longed for? Maybe this was more about him being able to move on.

  Dinner business was heavy and there was no opportunity to approach Uncle Jack further. Near the end of her shift, Alex came out of the kitchen to find Tiffany Whiting seated at the bar, looking extremely out of place. She searched for Jack, but he was seated at a booth on the far side of the dining room, chatting with Angie Prentiss. He said something and Angie threw her head back and laughed, reaching across the table to smack his hand. Whoa. What was going on there?

  “Excuse me. Can I get a drink?” Tiffany called to her.

  “Sure.” Alex sidled behind the bar. “What’ll it be?”

  “Sex on the Beach. You know how to do that, don’t you?” Tiffany’s mouth pulled up on one side in a smirk. “It’s Evan’s favorite.”

  Alex refused to take the bait. “Standard or with Midori and Chamborg?”

  “I’m impressed. Standard.”

  Would it kill the woman to say please? Alex turned her back on Tiffany to mix the drink. She poured and added a paper umbrella. “Here you go.”

  Tiffany sipped the concoction. “So you’re a waitress? Are you planning to work for Evan?”

  “No, I’m not. This is a family business.”

  “Charming.”

  Alex walked away, then turned and came back to face the woman. “I’m really not good at games. Let me make something clear for you. I have no interest in Evan. He asked a favor and I helped him out. That’s what people do here. But beyond that, there is absolutely nothing between myself and Evan Whiting. I don’t know and I don’t want to know about the status of your marriage. It’s none of my business. I’d like it to stay that way.” She slapped a ticket down on the bar and walked away.

  She pushed through the kitchen doors. “I really don’t like that woman,” she growled.

  Ludean asked, “What woman?”

  “The one at the bar. She’s Evan Whiting’s ex-wife. Wife. Whatever. Both of them are crazy.”

  Ludean peeked between the doors and turned around, smiling. “She’s pretty.”

  “She’s a snake.”

  Uncle Jack came into the kitchen. “The woman at the bar left you a tip.”

  Alex accepted the five dollar bill and unfolded it. A note had been written on the bill: Tip-Stay away from Evan. Keep the change.

  Alex wadded the bill and threw it into the trash. “That woman is insufferable.”

  “Who is she?” Uncle Jack asked, retrieving the bill from the trash.

  “Evan Whiting’s wife.”

  “Oh.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Not a thing. Look, can you two lock up tonight?”

  “I can stay for a bit,” Ludean said.

  “Me, too. Where are you going?”

  He smiled. “I have a date. Thanks.”

  Ludean sidled up next to Alex as she eased open one of the swinging doors and watched Uncle Jack hold the front door open for Angie. “Well I’ll be…,” Alex said. “Did you know about this?”

  Ludean shook her head. “No, ma’am. But I think it’s about time, don’t you?”

  A wave of guilt struck once again as Alex was reminded that Uncle Jack had put his life on hold for her and Kellie. Maybe she could offer to buy him out of the grill. Or, perhaps, it was time to let it go. Her eyes misted as she thought of Cade’s Point without the Out Back and sadness squeezed her heart. So much letting go lately. But Uncle Jack was right—you can’t take hold of something new if you’re clinging to the past. She wondered what her ‘something new’ would be.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The bedroom looked like her closet had exploded. Alex stood in front of the full-length mirror and studied her reflection. This was the fifth outfit she’d tried on and nothing looked good on her. When had she let her wardrobe go to hell? She had her black dress, but that was more formal, not for this type of celebration. The she remembered the jade green sleeveless dress still in the dry cleaner’s bag.

  She hastily discarded the black skirt and silk blouse that made her look like a hotel desk clerk and slipped the dress over her head. It hugged her body in all the right places and revealed a hint of cleavage. Her eyes darkened to match the jade as she thought of how Evan might see her in this dress. His appreciative gaze when they ran into each other at the steakhouse had not been lost on her. She smoothed her palms over her hips. It wasn’t so much that she wanted Evan’s attention as that she wanted Tiffany to notice that Alex had Evan’s attention.

  Satisfied with the dress choice, she tended to hair and make-up. Scooping up her notes about Amelia Cade Whiting, she grabbed up her purse and headed out the door.

  The parking spaces around the new restaurant were filled and Alex parked in her spot behind the shelter. She passed the vacant lot and glared at the ‘sold’ sign. But as she reached the white-columned entrance of Amelia’s, she plastered on
a smile. People stood outside accepting filled glasses of champagne from wait staff in white shirts and bow ties and carrying trays of the bubbly drink. A red ribbon stretched across the doorway.

  Evan stood at the entrance, smiling and chatting with Tubby Granger, the mayor. Theodore ‘Tubby’ Granger had graduated from high school with Alex. He smiled and waved as she approached. “Hey, Alex. You look nice this evening. I usually see you splattered in mud and dog vomit.”

  “I didn’t think dog vomit was befitting the occasion. How are you, Tubby?”

  “Good. Up for re-election.”

  She laughed. “That explains the suit and tie.”

  He chuckled. “You know us politicians, it’s all about looks.” He patted her shoulder. “I’m going to snag another glass of that bubbly. Evan, let me know when the festivities are about to begin.”

  Evan nodded, turning his attention to Alex. “The Mayor’s right, you do look nice.”

  “Thanks. Good crowd.”

  “It is. Do you recognize all these people?”

  Alex skimmed the faces of those gathered. “Most of them.”

  “How about that guy talking with Tiffany? Does he look familiar?”

  Alex’s gaze followed Evan’s outstretched arm. “Nope. Never saw him before. Why? Are you jealous?”

  “More like suspicious. She’s only been in town a week. She doesn’t know anyone. Yet she’s been chatting that guy up for the past twenty minutes and no one seems to know who he is. Something’s up.”

  “Why don’t you go over there and introduce yourself?”

  “Because I’m trying to stay as far away from Tiffany as possible. I don’t want to give people the wrong idea.”

  “Uh-huh. And that would be that she’s your wife?”

  “Only until Monday morning when my attorney gets the divorced finalized. It would have been done by now, but there was a glitch in the paperwork.”

  Alex sipped her champagne. “A lot can happen in forty-eight hours.”

  Evan frowned. “Aren’t you the embodiment of positive thoughts and sunshine?”

  “Always glad to be of help.”