Page 35 of Falling for You
Clearly, there was tension between father and son, and she quickly understood why. Evan was so sweet and tender, open to people regardless of their situation—traits he obviously inherited from his mother. Before she could get too far down the rabbit hole, Mallory tapped CeCe’s shoulder and gestured to the pan of gravy. She’d been stirring for a while and the sauce had finally thickened.
“Does this need more mustard? Mom usually has bland gravy, but Em and I were looking online for some gravy pointers. Turns out Dijon does the trick, but I’m afraid we didn’t add enough.” Mallory handed CeCe a clean tasting spoon.
The gravy had a silky texture and a tangy hit, but it still needed salt and pepper. “A heavy pinch of salt and pepper, and this gravy is perfect.” CeCe nodded and tossed the spoon in the sink. It clattered with a satisfying echo. No matter what she was cooking, it wasn’t a meal unless she made a little noise.
Emily swept past with a pair of serving platters. “Mind if I jump in to take out the chickens? They should be ready.”
CeCe took one look at Emily’s swollen belly and shook her head. “I don’t think so. You go sit and rest, I’ll take care of the heavy lifting.” Fortunately, Emily didn’t argue. She handed off the platters and left for the dining room, waddling like a penguin.
CeCe placed the platters by the oven and felt a hand at the small of her back. Evan leaned in, his mouth by her ear, and asked, “What do you need?” His touch was soft, yet steady. She didn’t know it at the time, but it was what she needed.
“A pair of hot pads would be great. I can take care of getting the birds out to rest.”
“To rest?” Mallory asked from her spot by the counter. She’d just finished adding ingredients to the salad and was watching CeCe and her brother intently.
CeCe wiped away a spot of gravy from her arm and nodded. “Oh, yes. You need to let protein rest once it’s out of the heat. Otherwise it dries out.”
Mallory nodded sagely, clearly impressed by the knowledge she was given. “No way. Is that something you learned in culinary school?”
CeCe thought about it for a moment, but she couldn’t remember where she’d learned it. It was one of those things she felt like she’d always known. Just like you slice meat against the grain and never stir a pot of boiling sugar. She was about to say that when Evan cut in, a look of pride on his face. “She probably learned it in Chicago.”
Mallory covered her heart with her hand. “I love Chicago.” Her voice was light, her eyes staring off into the distance. “I haven’t been in years.”
CeCe couldn’t hold back a matching grin. “It’s a great city.” Seeing the city through someone else’s eyes reminded her how lucky she was to have had those years in Chicago. With the Eric drama whipped back into a frenzy, it was easy to forget how many good times she’d had. Perhaps she was overdue for a trip back? Maybe this time she’d have company for the trip. As if sensing her thoughts, she felt Evan brush past her. His hand trailed down her arm as he went in search of a serving spoon.
“So who are some of the biggest chefs you’ve worked with?” Mallory rattled off several big-name chefs, counting each off on her fingers. Her enthusiasm was contagious.
CeCe was impressed. Most people outside the restaurant industry wouldn’t know half of those names. “Well, when I got started . . .” For five minutes she regaled a rapt Mallory with the stories of the chefs and sous chefs she’d worked with during her tenure in the Windy City. She was careful to omit Eric from the list, and she was relieved when Evan merely nodded as she shared her resume with his sister.
“That is so freaking cool,” Mallory observed on a sigh. Her eyes still sparkled as she absorbed CeCe’s list of chefs. Just when she was ready to carve the chickens, Mallory shattered the calm. “Wait, and you worked with Eric Watson?”
No, no, no!CeCe wanted to shout in the crowded space. Now was not the time to bring up Eric. Swallowing past a lump in her throat, she kept her head down and studied the chickens as if they were science experiments ready to explode.
CeCe was about to answer, but Evan’s mother joined them, her apron removed and her makeup fresh. She looked like she was auditioning to be the next Betty Crocker. “Who is Eric Watson?” she asked, leaning in to taste the gravy. CeCe watched her eyes flutter closed as she hummed her approval. “Girls, this gravy is the best one yet.”
Evan reached up into a high cabinet to retrieve a gravy boat, handing it to his mother. “Here you go,” he said, steering his mother away from the chaos that was Mallory with an unanswered question. “Why don’t you grab a seat? We’re bringing in dinner.” CeCe appreciated the attempt to change the subject, but it was no use.
“He’s only the hottest celebrity chefever,” Mallory swooned. She used one of the hot pads to fan herself.
Sophie entered the kitchen, a child hanging from each arm. “Who’s the hottest chef ever?” She shook her arms until Lucy and Jackson let go, both deciding their uncle was the next logical choice to hang from. Evan didn’t appear bothered and scooped up Lucy and Jackson in quick succession. Jackson hung from Evan’s neck while Lucy perched on his hip. Without another word, Evan took them from the room toward the dining room.
“Eric Watson.” Mallory swooned once more for good measure. “He is coming to central Ohio for a competition.”
CeCe spooned gravy into the gravy boat and handed it to Evan’s mother. Her hands quaked as she listened to Mallory preen. “Here you go, Mrs. Lawson.”
Evan’s mother shook her head but took the gravy. “Please, call me Pamela. You’re in our home. We are all family here.” She patted CeCe’s arm before disappearing with the gravy into the other room.
Evan returned,sanschildren, and helped his sisters and CeCe plate up the rest of dinner. CeCe was silently impressed when he found a bunch of parsley, which he chopped and sprinkled over the finished chicken.
Also impressed with his technique, Sophie smiled at her brother. “I feel like I’m watching this Watson guy in the flesh. Nice work, Ev.”
Evan flushed slightly at the compliment but didn’t stop his prep work. “If you guys would take my invitation, you could see me in action at the diner.”
Sophie kissed his cheek. “Move closer to Cleveland and you have yourself a deal.”
Mallory wasn’t satisfied with the Eric-free stream of conversation. “Can we please get back to Eric Watson? What can you tell me about him?”
It was a million-dollar question, that was certain. But now was not the time, nor the place, to air her dirty laundry. And, frankly, she was growing agitated with all the Eric talk. The man seemed to infiltrate most of her interactions since the competition announcement came through.
