Page 13 of You Had Me at Chocolate

“Edwin Vidal.”

“Do you think he might be okay if I used the kitchen there?”

“I… don’t see why not? You’re well credentialed.”

“Okay.” Jude nodded. “I’ll talk to him.”

Tamsin stared at him blankly for a beat or two before she glanced at Clementine as if seeking clarification.

“Sorry,” Clementine said. “Allow me to introduce you to celebrity chef, Jude Barlow. It was probably a bit before your time but he won the first ever Yes, Chef and had his own fancy New York restaurant for many years.”

“Oh,” she said, sniffling as she eyed him speculatively. “You’re the guy who proposed to Clem last night? You’re hashtag rude Jude.” She slid a hand over her mouth, her cheeks pinking up. “God… sorry. That was rude.”

Jude shook his head dismissively. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard it, wouldn’t be the last but it had been a while. Just over a year since the hashtag had exploded on social media and, clearly, he hadn’t yet lived it down. “That’s me,” he said pleasantly, trying to put the younger woman at ease despite not missing the notoriety of that hashtag. He held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Tamsin.”

“Tamsin is Maggie’s daughter,” Clementine explained. “Maggie and I have been working together for the past eight years.”

“Oh, yes.” Jude smiled at Tamsin as they shook hands. “I met your mother inside earlier.”

Tamsin regarded him hesitantly. “Could you make a wedding cake in two days? There’s a lot of people coming and it’s quite fancy.”

“I cut my teeth on fancy cakes.”

Jude had apprenticed at a top culinary school in Paris and he’d paid his way through by working at a small but popular patisserie owned and run by an eccentric octogenarian French woman called Madam Fontaine who had been regarded as one of the city’s finest chocolatiers in her day. She’d been a hard taskmaster but had taken him under her wing and Jude had not squandered that opportunity.

He doubted Tamsin’s wedding cake would be as challenging as some of the stuff Madam Fontaine had insisted he learn.

“But…” She shook her head, tears welling again. “I can’t afford to get another cake. We’ll get our money back eventually but I’ve already blown the budget so much I’m sure Daddy’s rocking in a corner somewhere.”

“No charge,” he said quickly. “Consider it a wedding gift.”

If he was serious about staying in Marietta—and in the cold light of day he realized he was—then he wanted the community to embrace him. To like him. To not think of him as some kind of brash, rude celebrity city chef. As a hashtag. Who’d appeared out of the blue and proceeded to screw up big-time by asking hometown girl Clementine Jones to marry him at her leaving party.

He’d also appreciate their support in recommending the inn to outsiders and tourists alike when it got up and running so there was no harm in some good PR, right?

Tamsin was looking at him with a mix of hopefulness and doubt and he smiled at her reassuringly. “Do you have a picture of your cake?” He knew from a decade in the restaurant business that most brides these days had Pinterest boards full of images that covered every minute detail of their wedding.

“Yes.”

“How about this then? You give me half an hour to talk to the chef at the Graff and then come to the lobby and we’ll discuss what you want?”

Tamsin nodded and sniffled again. “Can I bring my mom?”

“Of course, you can.”

“I… thank you.” She wiped at her damp eyes. “It seems so inadequate, but—”

“It will be my pleasure.” Jude was about to say he was looking forward to getting back to his roots, tapping into that muscle memory but he didn’t think Tamsin needed to hear that. “I promise I will make you a wedding cake that will be the envy of every bride in Montana.”

Tamsin grinned for the first time, pretty and perky, practically bouncing on her toes. “Thank you, thank you,” she gushed. She hugged him quickly and Jude laughed. “I gotta go tell Mom.”

Clementine grinned. “Go. But take these.” She grabbed the tray off Jude and thrust them at Tamsin. “Tell your mom I’ll be in shortly.”

Tamsin didn’t need telling twice and they watched her disappear through the heavy front door of the library. “A wedding cake that will be the envy of every bride in Montana, huh?”

He dragged his attention back to Clementine. Her mouth tilted in a soft smile. “Do you doubt me?”

She regarded him for long moments. “No.”

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