Page 17 of A Taste of Christmas Magic

And Jessica would be there. Eating his food. Enjoying it. And learning how wrong and shortsighted she and all of the Mayes, except Miss Millie and likely Chloe, had been.

“I’ll do it,” he said quietly earning a shocked look from Rebekah that morphed into a slick “gotcha.” Chloe wasn’t so subtle.

“Woo-hoo!” she jumped up and cheered, holding her shot glass of the cherry bounce sample aloft. “Rustin, you won’t regret this, Chef!”

I already do.

“Cheers to you and your crew and all your culinary endeavors and the Movable Feast that’s going to slay this year. With your help, I’ll cook the best entrée ever and prove I don’t F everything up, and your name and mad culinary skills and innovative recipes will have every seat filled and a line out the door for your grand opening and beyond!”

Chapter Five

“Rustin Wildish, whenare you going to start using the front door?”

Rustin paused, feeling guilty and exposed even though he was delivering the plate of appetizers for Chloe’s meeting, but using the side door off the kitchen was habit.

Miss Millie stood in her kitchen preparing a cup of tea.

“You didn’t see me,” he practically growled, annoyed at being caught.

The crème de le crème of Belmont’s society women must have arrived early because he could hear a murmur of voices in the front parlor.

“No reason to hide from anyone, Rustin,” Miss Millie stated.

There was every reason. When people learned he was back in town, he wanted it to be on his turf and his terms.

“I’m not hiding.”

“Skulking then.” Miss Millie sipped her tea from a dainty flowered teacup. “Own your accomplishments and take your victory lap, boy.”

“I haven’t been a boy in a long time, Miss Millie.”

Miss Millie’s hawkish features softened minutely, or perhaps it was a trick of the light. “You were never a boy, Rustin.”

She looked at the covered platter he held.

“Bailing out Chloe?”

“No.”

“Humph.” Miss Millie gracefully rose and peeled off the foil covering of the platter he held. “This looks like a life preserver to me.”

“It’s a thank you.”

“Your success and dedication are more than enough thanks, Rustin. You’ve become your own man and a passionate, dedicated chef. I was merely a flashlight illuminating the first few steps on your path.”

It was unlike Miss Millie Maye to be modest. Rustin’s suspicions swirled.

“You were my shot,” he said, not wanting to say any more because Miss Millie had been a helluva lot more than that. “But I’m thanking Chloe for a kindness years ago.”

“You’ll have to be more specific.” Miss Millie sipped her tea and regarded him as if she were measuring him for a suit jacket. “That girl is endlessly kind. She practically runs her own cat and dog rescue with Jessica on my old family farm on Cramer Mountain. I’ve heard a rumor about a goat, so I’m waiting for Jessica to hex Chloe on an upcoming full moon, as goats eat everything, and Jessica loves her plants more than people.”

He waited for the familiar kick to his gut whenever he heard Jessica’s name, but it felt more like a casual nudge this time.

Miss Millie took one of the jalapeño poppers he’d made with pimento cheese and olives, then wrapped in a thin slice of crisp pork belly.

“Oh my.” She chewed thoughtfully. “Where are you getting the whisper of sweet?”

“It’s in my nature.”

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