Chapter Seven
“Wait! What? He took you to meet his parents? Oh, my gosh, Tara! That is so huge. It’s… it’s…” Ellen struggled to find a fitting word.
“Colossal,” Tara supplied, plopping down on her bed with the phone held in her hand.
After Brett’s knee-quaking kiss on the back porch, and those he’d lavished upon her throughout the day, she felt the need to talk to someone. The first person who came to mind was her best friend. Although it was late in Atlanta, she realized it was still early in Portland and called Ellen.
Quickly relaying the details to her friend, Ellen had confirmed Tara’s thoughts on Brett taking her to meet his parents. When she’d first walked into the impressive house, she’d conjured up any number of images of Brett’s parents being uppity, looking down their nose at her. The opposite seemed to be true. Tara had hidden her surprise at finding Brett’s parents in the kitchen, cooking. She assumed with their wealth, an array of servants would have been at their disposal. Brett had mentioned that his mother liked to give the staff Sundays and Mondays off and enjoyed cooking, especially if they had company.
Randa and Alex Cutler were as much of a surprise as their son had been. Tara had no idea he was part of the family that owned the expansive horse farm down the road from Magnolia Rose. Mistakenly, she’d assumed he was just a cowboy, hired to work for Ashley and Wade for a month. Instead, he turned out to be the wealthy owner of the equines on top of being a hunky cowboy who was good with horses.
“This is all pretty incredible, Tara. I mean, here you thought the Bradley Cooper look-alike was just a cute guy who handled the horses. In one magical day, you discover he’s the charming son of a wealthy family who has their own plantation. I mean, how cool is that?” Ellen giggled. “And I love that his name is Brett. Brett Cutler. He just sounds like a hero from one of those romance novels I love to read.”
Tara couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, he does, but what should I do?”
“Do? About what?”
Exasperated, Tara sighed. “About Brett, you goose! I mean, two more weeks and I’ll be on a plane heading back to Portland. This month will be relegated to a wonderful, exciting memory. It seems wrong to waste his time when I’m not staying here.”
“I don’t think it’s a waste of time to date a perfectly wonderful guy. Come on, Tara. When was the last time you dated anyone you like as well as Brett?” Ellen asked, already knowing the answer.
“Never. I’ve never dated anyone like him.” Tara rolled over on her back and stared at the lacy canopy overhead. “He’s sweet and thoughtful, yet rugged and all man. And he has the most beautiful blue eyes, and his smile. Oh, my gracious! When he smiled today, I actually caught a glimpse of dimples.”
“No way,” Ellen practically squealed in the phone. “You’ve always been such a sucker for dimples.”
“True, but that still doesn’t answer my question. Ellen, I could really fall for this guy, but I can’t stay here. I don’t have a job and you’d be left without a roomie. There is a distinct probability my mother would go into an unstoppable fit of hysterics if I actually decided to live more than an hour out of her zip code.”
Ellen sighed. “Tara, this is a time in your life when you need to not worry about your dead-end job at the bakery or how your mother will cope if you move out of the state. As for me, maybe it’s time for the two of us to branch out. You know I love sharing an apartment with you, but I looked at the cutest little place near the office. It’s only about a ten minute walk to work, but that’s a conversation for another day.”
“No, let’s have that conversation today.” Tara took a quick breath and plunged ahead. “I’ve given it a lot of thought, El, and you need to move closer to work. It isn’t a good thing for you to make that commute every day, especially when things keep getting busier and busier for you. You are the best roommate anyone could ever have, but I’m kicking you out. Find a place closer to the office, my friend. Your life will be so much less complicated if you do.”
Ellen remained silent for longer than Tara would have liked before she finally spoke. “Wow, Tara. I’m just… surprised. I know we promised to stick together until one of us married Mr. Right, but practicality is about to come into play. Thank you for being so understanding and bossy.”
“That’s what I’m here for, my friend.” Tara smiled. “Just promise you’ll seriously look for a place close to work.”
“I promise,” Ellen said in a solemn tone then broke into giggles. “Now, let’s work on getting you what you want. If you want that hunky southern hottie, then don’t let anything stand in your way. Can’t you channel a little Scarlett and go after what you want?”
Tara laughed and released some of her anxiety. “Maybe I will. First, though, I need to figure out what I want. Right now, that’s a good night’s rest. I have a big day tomorrow.”
“I thought every day was a big day down there,” Ellen said good-naturedly.
“It is. This job has been such an incredible learning experience and has helped me stretch beyond my comfort zone. And Stuart has been amazing to work with.”
“He’s the fancy pants chef in charge of everything. Is that right?” Ellen asked.
Tara sat up, trying to subdue her broad grin. “Stuart is a highly respected chef with his own restaurant and cookbooks and…”
“Cooking show, I get it.”
“Stuart really is great. He’s very humble and just a nice guy. His assistant chef, however, is the one that fits the fancy pants title. Jonas Slattery is full of bluster and bluff, but not much else. When Stuart isn’t in the kitchen, he struts around like an obnoxious little rooster, fluffing his feathers and pecking at everyone.” Tara swallowed down a giggle. “Yesterday, he was being quite nasty to two of the line cooks, barking at them about a mistake he himself had made. He was so busy trying to sound important that he failed to notice Stuart standing right behind him. Oh, you should have seen his face, El, when he turned around and ran nose-first right into Stuart’s chef’s coat.”
“How tall is this guy?” Ellen asked.
“I think you’ve got an inch or two on him,” Tara said, picturing her five-foot, four-inch friend standing above the cocky little chef. “Not only is he short, he’s already balding, and has a bit of a pot belly from all the supposed quality control he does on the various dishes that come out of the kitchen. On top of that, he’s also got all the charm and pizzazz of a bucket of fertilizer.”
Ellen’s gleeful giggles made Tara smile. “Why does Stuart keep him on?”
“Jonas puts on his best game face when Stuart is around. I think Stuart was hoping to train him to take over on events like this. It would be a certifiable disaster if he did.”
“It certainly sounds like it.” Ellen’s voice sounded muffled as she spoke to someone then came back on the line. “I’m sorry, Tara, but I’m still at work and I need to finish this up before I leave tonight. Call me later this week and let me know how things are going. I’ll want an update on the awful assistant chef as well as a glowing report on your gorgeous Georgia cowboy.”
“He’s not my cowboy, even if he is gorgeous.” Tara glanced at the clock. “I miss you, El. Take care and don’t work too late. Talk to you later.”
“You can count on it.”