Page 5 of Recipe for Romance

Aiden looked at the expectant faces surrounding the table. “It’s true,” he finally admitted. “Just a longer break than I led on.”

The fifty pound weight that had been sitting on his chest since he’d gotten fired felt lighter, and Aiden breathed a little easier as he filled his family in on what actually happened. Recounting the night in question wasn’t as difficult as he expected it to be, most likely made so by his family offering nothing but sympathetic looks and words of encouragement as he told the tale. When he got to the part about getting blackballed pretty much everywhere in the industry, they offered to go kick the ass of everyone who wrote anything disparaging about him.

Chuckling humorlessly, Aiden waved off their wanting to exact vengeance on his behalf. “I appreciate that, but I don’t think that will earn me any goodwill with anyone, and at this point I need as much of that as I can get.”

Nodding, his father reached over and patted his hand. “Well, it sounds like you’ve been through the wringer.” That was putting it mildly, but Aiden knew better than to interrupt his father. “So, what do you need from us?”

Aiden’s eyes shot up to his dad’s, the hazel looking brighter than he expected. “What do you mean?” He knew that his parents loved him and appreciated effort over results, but Aiden had still expected some expression of disappointment in his behavior rather than an offer of assistance.

His father’s brow came together, his thick brown eyebrows looking a bit like a caterpillar setting up camp above his eyes. “What do you mean, what do I mean? Most of our money is tied up in the farm, but we can scrape some together if you really need it. If you just need us to be there to support you through everything, we’ll do that too and whatever else you need to help get your business off the ground.”

Touched, Aiden tried to smile. Why was it so difficult for him to express gratitude? “I appreciate that, and I’m actually going to be seeing an old friend for financial backing,” he informed them. “But you guys just being understanding of everything has been enough. Besides, the harvest is coming up.”

Travis rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “I can handle the harvest.” With a curt nod at their dad, the quietest Kemp said no more. Aiden was almost surprised he spoke at all, often wondering when his little brother would one day resort to simply communicating via grunts and hand signals.

“See, Travis can take the reins and the rest of us can help out however you need, so don’t be shy about asking for anything.” His dad speared him with a knowing look before he pulled his wife closer and kissed her temple. Aiden was always a do it himself or die trying sort of person, but he knew he would take advantage of their offer eventually, even if it was simply to come and taste his food. “Your mom and I would even be willing to let you have your old room back.”

Aiden’s eyes widened at the thought of moving back into the house with his parents and brother. He definitelywould notbe taking them up on that offer. Travis may not mind living with the two of them, but Aiden was too used to living on his own and doing things his own way to give that up. “That’s alright,” he managed to say without sounding horrified. “I’m already renting out the place I’m in now, and I’ll need the kitchen to work on recipes anyway.”

That last part was true enough, and while his parents had a perfectly serviceable kitchen, he needed his own organizational system in place or he would end up driving everyone up the wall with his moaning about missing labels and dates not being clearly written on packaging. Aiden had just moved back and didn’t want to risk alienating his family with his moody ways. Their support meant too much to him.

“Very well,” his mother said with a knowing look on her face. “I’ll just have to get promises from you to keep coming to the family lunch until you inevitably get too busy again.”

Aiden nodded, the corner of his mouth ticking up. It was about as much of a smile as he managed these days, but it was enough to have his mom beaming back at him. “I can do that.”

“Good.” Turning to the rest of the table, she steered the topic of conversation back over to Felix’s cider, praising his efforts to always innovate his business.

Aiden pulled out his phone and booked his flight to Los Angeles before quickly sending the information to Eddie. As he stared at the text, the rest of his family’s conversation faded into the background as he considered the ramifications of what he’d just done. He’d started the ball rolling on what would hopefully turn into something wonderful.

If Eddie agreed to back him financially, he would be able to put an offer on the Old Cider Mill and once the papers were signed, Aiden would be the proud new owner of an old, burnt out shell of a building. The outlook of his future was still pretty bleak all things considered, but the thought of finally having a restaurant of his own, even one that seemed doomed to fail from the get-go, had his cheeks pulling back to form the first real smile that had likely been on his face in a very long time.

****

The two hour prop planeride from a neighboring town to Sea-Tac airport and the four hour flight after that had put Aiden on edge, his body flooded with adrenaline and anxiety from his time in the air. He detested flying. Add to that the nearly ninety minute drive through LA traffic, something he neither enjoyed nor missed, and Aiden was practically foaming at the mouth with annoyance by the time he pulled up to the address that Eddie had sent to him. In the few years he worked for the man, Aiden had never been to his home.

The Bel-Air location was no surprise, nor was the sight of more than one Mercedes in the driveway. The man did have money after all, and for the first time that day Aiden was thankful he’d worn his best suit. Despite having ditched his tie and opening a few buttons at the top of his shirt, the oppressive heat of late August hit him hard as he climbed out of his blissfully air conditioned rental car. Grabbing the messenger bag containing his business proposal, Aiden walked up to the wide glass front door with as much confidence as he could muster.

Before “the incident,” exuding confidence had been as easy as breathing for Aiden, but in the weeks and months since, he’d had a more difficult time of it. For now, he had to either dig deep and find some or give his best imitation of it because Eddie would sense the lack of certainty on him like a shark smelled blood in the water. If that happened, he would likely say no before even hearing him out. As great as his mentor was, Eddie was also a hard-ass. Aiden had and still did admire it, though the prospect of that being aimed at him again when he was so desperate for financial support was daunting.

Raising his hand and hating the slight tremble in it, Aiden knocked at the door. A moment later, Eddie greeted him, looking a little older and slightly rounder in the middle, but no less intimidating than when Aiden had first worked for him over a decade ago. Even the fact that the man was wearing cargo shorts, a Hawaiian shirt, and flip flops didn’t pull his pedestal down any lower.

“Aiden,” he boomed. Drawing him into a hug, Eddie slapped his back before pulling him inside the large house. “Get in here. It’s good to see you.” Eddie slapped Aiden’s belly, a part of his body that, while softer than it had been in years past, didn’t bother him in the slightest. “I see that time and truffle oil have come for you too.”

Shrugging a shoulder that was still stiff with tension, Aiden followed the older man toward the dining room where two bowls of salad and two glasses of spritzer sat waiting on a glass table. “I run occasionally to keep my arteries clean, not my belly flat,” he revealed. Taking a seat, he grabbed his proposal and started to hand it over to Eddie.

The man took one look at the cover sheet before waving it away. “Put that back,” he ordered. Slightly irritated that the proposal he had spent the better part of a week putting together hadn’t even garnered a single look, Aiden scowled. The action brought a smile to his former mentor’s face. “Ha! There’s the Aiden I remember. Still got a stick up your ass.”

Refraining from reminding Eddie that he was one of the first chef’s to help put it there, Aiden merely nodded and tried to smooth out his face. “If by stick up my ass, you mean that I’m still driven and determined to succeed, then yes.”

The man smiled knowingly, seeing more of Aiden than he would have liked. “Okay, okay,” Eddie relented, digging into his chicken Caesar salad. “Tell me about this restaurant idea of yours while we break bread.”

As Eddie shoved forkfuls of romaine into his mouth, Aiden detailed his plans for the old cider mill, starting with it being accessible fine dining. He wanted to get back to basics, cooking really good food that the really good people of his hometown could actually afford. After talking about the second floor seating, the main entrance with couches that would provide a place to sit and socialize while waiting for a table, and the state of the art kitchen that would make all the food possible, Aiden got into some of his ideas about the menu. They were all still very preliminary, but Aiden knew that the basis for his menu was solid: comfort food at its finest.

The whole time Aiden spoke, Eddie took in his words, giving thoughtful looks but not much feedback other than that. “Well, what do you think?” The silence stretched on for longer than Aiden was comfortable with. It made him increasingly nervous, and when he got nervous, he also got a bit pissy. “Anything?”

Eddie raised a brow in a look that had Aiden traveling back through time to his first night in the man’s kitchen. He’d come in so head-sure and cocky, so pleased with himself for getting the position that he hadn’t noticed he was using a dull knife until Eddie chewed him out for his uneven cuts. That was the last time Aiden let his guard down and the reminder of who was really in charge here had him hanging his head slightly.

“Sorry, Chef.”

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