Page 28 of The Strawberry Patch Pancake House
‘Hey,’ Archer said, shedding his chef’s coat and tossing it on the chair.
‘Itiscake! I can’t believe that.’ Iris slapped a hand on her knee. She would have sworn that cake purse was the real deal.
‘I told you so,’ Olive mumbled, though her victory still wasn’t doing much for her mood.
‘What is she eating?’ Archer asked, his eyes on Olive.
‘A Pop-Tart,’ Iris said, facing his intense disappointment. God, and this guy wondered why his kid was silent around him. With that face how could she not be? He looked chiseled from a very disappointed stone.
‘Do you know how processed those things are?’
‘I know that they taste good, and that they are one of the two things I’ve gotten her to eat.’
He frowned. ‘What’s the other?’
Ah ha! Mr. High and Mighty Food Snob didn’t know what Olive liked to eat either.
‘Strawberries.’
‘Hmm.’ He stalked off to the kitchen.
‘Just eat your Pop-Tart,’ she whispered to Olive. ‘I’ll handle your grumpy dad.’
Olive took another defiant bite.
‘Good girl.’ Iris patted her head. She still had the braided pigtails Iris had put in this morning, although they’d gotten a little fuzzy throughout the day. She looked rumpled and sleepy and Iris had to admit, the little creature was growing on her.
She followed Archer into the kitchen. ‘Bad day?’
He scowled, pouring himself a drink. ‘It was fine.’
‘You never specified what you wanted me to feed her. If there’s an approved menu, I’m gonna need it.’
He sighed, his shoulders sagging. ‘No, sorry. I just…’
‘You just want her to eat and she’s eating. You can teach her to like all your fancy French food later, okay? One step at a time.’
His stare was unreadable until he gave a short nod. ‘You’re right. As long as she’s eating something.’
‘Exactly. I on the other hand am totally on board to eat something other than Pop-Tarts.’ She noticed the bags Archer had set out on the counter and she started to unpack them. ‘What are you making?’ She didn’t really know if it was appropriate for her to be chatting in the kitchen with him, but Olive didn’t exactly need supervision in her TV watching. Especially since Archer put child locks on the doors so she couldn’t sneak out of the house anymore.
‘Steak frites,’ he said, pulling potatoes out of one of the bags as well as a bottle of wine. ‘Glass of wine?’
Drinking with the boss? The lines were getting blurrier. But what was she supposed to do? Hide in her room until dinner was ready? She’d spent her first few evenings here going out for dinner just to avoid this situation but that was untenable. She lived here. Surely, she could have a glass of wine with dinner.
‘Sure, thanks.’
‘Red, okay? This one pairs really nicely with the steak.’
‘Sounds good.’ She watched him pour the wine and pull the rest of the ingredients from the bag and she could imagine what he must have been like before coming here. Competent, talented. A man who was confident in his abilities. And he’d given it all up.
He was peeling potatoes faster than she’d ever seen anyone peel before when she blurted out, ‘It’s really amazing that you gave this up.’
His hands stopped. A slight frown crossed his face, making her regret her words.
‘I mean, not that you gave it up forever, but it’s amazing that you left your old life to come here, to Dream Harbor and the diner and all … it must be … different.’
He made that amused huffing sound she supposed passed for a laugh and went back to the potatoes, chopping them into precise slices. Like a machine. She’d been right about those hands. Capable of all sorts of tricks.
