Page 20 of The Chef's Kiss
“Yes,” all three chorused with stupid grins on their faces.
“I need to have lunch with your girls to get to know them.”
“Deflecting!” Carter pointed at me. “She’s doing it again. This isn’t about us or our fiancées. It’s about you and what you’re running from.”
“I’m not running from anything.” I groaned, blowing the hair out of my face. “Can we just be happy I’m home at all? I could have gone to Hawaii for a month.”
Maybe I should have. But I missed home. This town and all the friendly people. For the last four years, I’d kept up an impossible pace, just trying to keep my head above water. But I never wanted to jump into the corporate world the second I graduated. I had dreams, but things changed, and I had a lot to think about.
“We’re glad you’re home.” Carter clapped me on the back. “You just seem stressed about something, and we want to help.”
“And you have.” I held up the bag they’d brought. Leaning forward, I dumped the contents of Conrad’s coffee table drawers onto the floor and started sorting my clothes into the two empty spaces.
“Sure, make yourself at home.” Conrad scooped up the pile of old magazines and remote controls.
“Planned on it.” I folded my jeans and t-shirts into one drawer and quickly stuffed my underwear, bras, and pajamas into the other. I didn’t want to think about Conner going through my underwear at home.
“Lena did that part,” he was quick to explain.
“Well, tell her I appreciate her help. I shudder to think what you might have brought without her supervision.”
“Me too.” Carter laughed.
I smiled at my brothers. It was good to see them all together and getting along. They’d all drifted apart after Mom died, but now that they were all adults and living in Superiore Bay, maybe they could be a real family again. And maybe I wanted to be part of it.
But then, there was Dad.The Ashford. I would have to face him sooner or later.
As if reading my thoughts, Conner caught my eye. “You’re going to have to see him soon. It’s only a matter of time before he hears you’re back, and you know it will go worse for you if he has to summon you to the office.”
“I know. I’ll go talk to him, eventually. I promise.”
“You have until next week,” Conrad announced. “Or one of us will tell him you’re here. I’d rather not have to do that.”
“You guys are such jerks.” I folded my arms across my chest. Sometimes, it really sucked to be the only girl in the family. Having three much older brothers could be a drag.
8
HUDSON
Driving through town was a lot more fun than I would have thought. I was never much of a driver. Living and growing up in New York City, it wasn’t a necessity. My car had sat unused most of the time. But this was different.
Once I got settled with the restaurant and found a place close by, I probably wouldn’t need to drive some days. I planned to have all my local supplies delivered on the regular once I trained the locals on what I liked.
Today, I was out exploring the outskirts of town to see what I could discover on my own. I needed a good source for local produce, and I’d found an obscure listing online for a farmer’s market that claimed they were the bay’s best source for artisanal cheeses and honey. I didn’t have high hopes for their farm-to-table market. It could be a hole in the wall not worth my time or the effort to find the place. What kind of business didn’t have a freaking website these days?
I took my foot off the gas and slowed to a crawl as the establishment came into view. “Or it could be a little slice of paradise in the middle of nowhere.” I gaped at the field of fresh herbs with row after row of lavender bouncing in the breeze. I rolled my windows down and got a lung full of the fresh scent. I could make out the hum of bees beyond the herb garden, where chamomile and calendula flowers were beginning to fade with the changing of the seasons.
Goats bleated from their pen on the opposite side of the gravel drive, and I had dreams of fresh goat cheeses blended with herbs and an infusion of olive oil.
A cottage sat in the middle of the property, with acres of vegetables growing in raised beds. Vine fruits ran the length of the fence and I wondered if they made wine here. This couldn’t be the Superiore Bay Winery. But like everything in this town, it probably was connected to the Ashfords somehow.
I pulled into a parking spot and took in my surroundings. Strawberry fields butted up against the herb garden, and the drone of bees grew louder.
I stepped into the store, surprised to find only one person manning the shop and no patrons begging to buy everything in sight. I knew some New York chefs who would die to have access to this kind of organic produce.
“Hi there, welcome to the Bee Bountiful Market. Did you want to taste something?” The bored-looking, dark-haired teen sitting behind the counter was not the person I needed to speak with. And with her nose in a book, she didn’t seem to want to be bothered.
“Is there a manager around?” My eyes went everywhere at once, devouring the lavender honey and the artisanal mustards and condiments I was dying to try. Not to mention the rows of fresh produce. I zeroed in on a crate of the most beautiful fresh Chanterelle mushrooms I’d ever seen. I was definitely going to need an account here. “Is that mead?” I walked across the room to a display of artisan honey wine.
