LILY’S LIFE LESSON #10
It never hurts to plan ahead.
The next morning, Lily made sure to get up early enough to meet the elusive Mrs. Ferguson in the kitchen. It wasn’t hard for Lily to pull herself out of bed at the ass-crack of dawn because she’d lost another night’s sleep thinking about Trace and that almost-kiss in the parking lot of the vet’s office.
Bundled up in an oversize wool sweater, leggings, and lined rubber boots, Lily used a flashlight she’d found in her kitchen drawer to follow the path to the back entrance of the resort. The smell of grease and burned toast nearly bowled her over the second she opened the door. With the back of one hand against her mouth, she waited until her stomach settled, then put on a brave face and entered the kitchen.
It could’ve been declared a national disaster area. Lily looked around at the piles of dirty pots and pans, and her admiration for Charley grew exponentially. The National Guard probably couldn’t get a mess that size cleaned up in the amount of time Charley managed to do it every morning.
An old woman—with a hitch in her walk from what looked like a bad hip—limped into the kitchen from the pantry. She didn’t notice Lily, probably because her eyesight had gone long ago if the thickness of her glasses was any indication. She stirred a pan of scrambled eggs.
Lily didn’t want to startle Mrs. Ferguson, so she coughed.
Did no good. Mrs. Ferguson picked up a clean frying pan and put it on a burner.
Lily guessed the cook’s hearing was as long gone as her eyesight, so she inched forward, hoping Mrs. Ferguson would catch the movement in her peripheral vision.
No such luck.
Lily eased up to the counter. “Mrs. Ferguson?”
The cook whirled around and raised the empty frying pan high above her head in attack mode.
Lily stumbled back against the wall.
“Who are you?” Mrs. Ferguson fiddled with her hearing aid.
“I’m Lily Barns!” She stayed beyond swinging distance. “I work here,” she hollered.
Mrs. Ferguson had obviously turned up her hearing aid at the same time Lily shouted because the old woman covered her ear with one hand. “No need to shout.” She lowered the pan. “You almost got yourself clobbered. That’ll teach you not to sneak up on folks.”
Um. Lily couldn’t have announced her presence any louder if she’d had a bullhorn. But she needed to win over Mrs. Ferguson for the good of the resort. And for the good of the guests’ gastrointestinal systems. Lily glanced at the overcooked food, still sizzling over burners set too high.
“I’m the new hospitality manager.” Lily peeled herself off the wall now that Mrs. Ferguson had discarded her cast-iron weapon. “I came to see if I could help with breakfast.”
Mrs. Ferguson gave her a territorial look.
Lily veered toward the sink. “How about I get started on the dishes?”
Mrs. Ferguson nodded. “Suit yourself.”
Lily stepped up to the industrial sink and filled it with soapy water. Thirty minutes later, she’d barely made a dent in the mountain of pots and pans. How someone could dirty so many dishes cooking eggs, bacon, and toast was beyond reason. Still, she whistled a tune her grandmother used to love, and she worked, keeping one eye on Mrs. Ferguson.
By the time she had the buffet set up and ready in the dining hall, Mrs. Ferguson was whistling the same tune.
Lily smiled. She took a break from dishwashing and dried her hands. “Mrs. Ferguson, would you be interested in helping Lawrence out with something really important?” Lily waved a hand across the kitchen. “I mean, cooking breakfast is important too.” She tilted her head to one side. “Everyone agrees that no one makes breakfast quite like you.” She plowed on. “But the resort is suffering in some areas, and something tells me you’re the only employee here who can fix one particular problem.”
“What problem?” Mrs. Ferguson retrieved her purse from a cabinet and hooked it in the notch of her elbow.
“Well, Lawrence wants to bring in a younger crowd of people. You know, couples with kids, families. But he doesn’t want the empty nesters to feel left out.” Lily propped a hip against the counter. “The guests would miss your . . . unique brand of breakfast, but I think you could help Lawrence fill a serious void at the resort in a different way.”
“Who would cook breakfast? Lawrence depends on me.” Mrs. Ferguson’s concerned expression made Lily fall in love with her just like she loved her own grandmother.
“I promise I’ll find someone to take over the cooking. No one could fill your shoes, of course, but I’ll make sure the guests are happy.” Lily kept her tone reassuring.
Mrs. Ferguson gave her a skeptical look. “What would I be doing?”
“Well, you’d be in charge of leading activities here at the resort for people your age. Bingo-” When Mrs. Ferguson’s hand fluttered to her throat, Lily knew she’d scored a victory for the resort. “Maybe a basket-weaving class.”
Mrs. Ferguson’s other hand covered the first. “I adore bingo and basket weaving.”
“Perfect!” Lily gave her a dazzling smile. “So you’ll do it?”
“If it’ll help the resort, then of course I’ll do it.” Her expression turned crestfallen. “But I feel like I’m abandoning Lawrence if I stop cooking. He’s been like a son to me, you know.”
Lily walked over and put an arm around Mrs. Ferguson’s shoulders. “It’ll be difficult, but we’ll make do. Every time you start worrying, remember how important your new responsibilities are to the resort. And you have free rein to implement any activities you think the guests over fifty will enjoy. Lawrence is going to be so excited.”
She saw Mrs. Ferguson out and tackled the rest of the dishes. Leaving them for Charley would be just plain heartless. As she finished up, Charley walked in with Sophie in tow, a tiara perched on her cute little head.
“Heeeeey.” Charley looked around the kitchen. “You’re good. I take it you met Mrs. Ferguson.”
“Yep.” Lily dried her hands and waved at Sophie. “Hello, Your Highness.”
Sophie scrunched her shoulders and climbed onto a stool at the opposite side of the counter.
Charley pulled a frying pan from the cabinet, spooned in butter, and turned on the burner. “I’m making breakfast here before I take the kids to school. My stove isn’t working.” She disappeared inside the walk-in fridge, then reappeared with a carton of eggs and several other ingredients. “Want an omelet?”
Lily’s stomach rumbled, her appetite finally returning now that the smell of Mrs. Ferguson’s burned food had receded. “Sure. You don’t mind?”
“I owe you my paycheck for cleaning up after Mrs. Ferguson.” Charley cracked eggs into the skillet and sliced mushrooms. “Obviously, you didn’t eat her food since you aren’t on your way to the dentist with a broken tooth.” She raised both brows. “No joke, one guest really did break a tooth. On scrambled eggs.”
Lily chuckled. “That’s scary.”
Charley tossed in the rest of the ingredients. “Mrs. Ferguson is a good person, but she has no business in the kitchen anymore.”
Lily slid onto the stool next to Sophie. “Well, that won’t be a problem. She won’t be cooking anymore.”
Charley’s jaw fell open. “No way.”
“Yes way,” Lily said.
“How’d you manage it?” Charley’s voice was all awe and hero worship.
Lily winked. “I have my ways.” Really, she was just good at her job. Hospitality managers were problem solvers.
“Guest complaints just went down.” Charley flipped the omelet and slid it onto a plate for Sophie. “So did the resort’s liability insurance. How do you want your omelet cooked, Lily? The sky’s the limit.” Charley spooned more butter into the pan.
Lily tapped her chin. “Spicy.” Sure, she was southern, but more specifically, she was Cajun, and she had to be true to those roots. “I like it really hot and spicy-”
Trace blew in at that exact moment, stopped cold, and gave her a cloudy stare.
“I like jalapeños and cayenne pepper,” Lily hurried to explain.
Charley’s assessing gaze lingered on Lily, then on Trace, who, in turn, hadn’t taken his eyes off Lily.
“Okaaaay. Coming right up.” Charley disappeared into the pantry.
Maybe it was his alpha-male swagger. Maybe it was his self-confidence. Maybe it was his devotion to his son. Or maybe it was the whole package, along with a face as good-looking as his body and a square jaw that sported a hint of stubble. Whatever the reason, just his presence made everyone else seem invisible.
From what Lily could tell, he was firm all over except for the softness that lingered in his chocolaty eyes as he looked at her.
That softness made Lily’s heart do a flippity-flop.
“Morning,” he finally said.
“Sleep well?” It was the first thing to pop into Lily’s stuttering brain.
“Hell no.” He didn’t try to cover his bluntness. And the look in his eyes said he’d lain awake for the same reason Lily had—that almost-kiss. “You?”
“Like a baby,” she said.
“Liar,” he deadpanned.
Truer words.
Heat crept up her neck, slid down her torso, and settled in parts unknown. At least unknown to him. She, on the other hand, was well aware which parts heated every time she heard his voice. She shifted on her stool but didn’t argue his point. No sense trying to deny the effect he had on her, especially after last night, when her uterus cried out Give it to me, baby. Probably loud enough for Trace to hear. It was one of the things she could be honest about without jeopardizing her safety.
It would, however, jeopardize her job. So even if her attraction was obvious, she couldn’t let it go beyond a really good fantasy.
“Here we go.” Charley emerged from the pantry with a jar of jalapeños. “Want an omelet, Trace?”
“No, thanks. I made breakfast at my place.” He finally tore his gaze from Lily and focused on his cousin. “Ben’s on his way. He’s looking for his belt in that black hole he calls a room.” Trace rubbed the back of his neck. “Listen, today was my day to pick the kids up from school, but would you mind getting them? I have to make several trips to the Cape for supplies again and then pick up a new guest.” He shook his head in disgust. “The delivery company decided not to deliver this week’s supplies until next week.”
“Again?” Charley sounded as disgusted as Trace.
“Can’t we use a different company?” Lily had dealt with similar issues at her previous job, and the delivery companies in NOLA had lined up with competitive bids to win the business.
Trace’s gaze flitted to Lily again, and his brow knitted. “It’s the only delivery company on the Cape with a cargo floatplane. Every other company I’ve found is a fair distance away and wants to gouge us simply because they can.”
Ah. Those companies had the island by the cajones, and they knew it.
“We need a delivery company based here on the island. A reliable company that will actually deliver on time.” Charley raised both brows at Trace. They’d obviously had the same discussion before today. “Know anyone who can fly a delivery plane from the mainland?” She waved a spatula around. “Anybody?”
Trace shook his head. “Not gonna happen anytime soon.” He glanced at Lily, then looked at the ground. “The resort can’t afford a cargo plane right now.”
Her stomach quivered. Instinct told her the resort not being able to afford a new plane had something to do with her. Lawrence had said the budget was tight, and paying a new full-time employee had to chew up a lot of the resort’s funds.
“Don’t worry about picking up the kids. I’ve got it handled.” Charley flipped Lily’s omelet.
“Thanks.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Trace, we need to go over the new booking system so you can start using it,” Lily said.
“Right. Sorry we haven’t gotten to it. It’s been . . . yesterday was . . . crazy.” His expression turned brooding, and Lily knew right where his thoughts had gone. Both of them had definitely stared at their ceilings most of the night. “Unexpectedly crazy,” he added. As if the one-two punch to emphasize that almost-kiss was necessary.
Ben crashed through the door in his usual full-throttle manner. “Lily, can I go to your house and see Megan before we leave for school?”
“No.” Trace gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Let her . . . it rest. You can feed them after school.” His brooding expression vanished. “Son, the doctor said Megan is really a boy.”
Ben’s shoulders drooped.
Trace nudged him playfully. “Come on, it’ll be fun thinking up a new name. Remember how much fun you had helping Lily name all the ducklings?”
Charley blinked twice, obviously not yet clued in on the ducks or the fact that one had been named after Trace’s ex-wife. She shook her head, dishing up Lily’s omelet. “I swear this place is like The Twilight Zone.”
“I’d explain, but I’ve got to go.” Trace glanced at his watch. “I’m already late.” He looked at Lily. “We’ll get to the new system soon.”
“Sorry, boss. Soon isn’t good enough.” Lily dug into the scrumptious mix, but before she forked a generous helping into her mouth, she said, “This week, okay?”
He angled his body half-in and half-out of the back door, and the brooding was back.
And darned if he couldn’t win a sexiest brooder alive contest. Really, People magazine should put his picture on the cover. Every year. Because Lily had yet to meet anyone who pulled it off quite as well as Trace.
Finally he nodded, said goodbye to his son, and let the door close in his wake.
As soon as they were alone, Charley said to the kids, “Go load up in the Jeep. I’m right behind you.”
With backpacks strapped to their shoulders, both kids hurried out in a frenzy of excitement to start a new school day.
Charley crooked all four fingers at once in a give-it-up gesture. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Lily said around a mouthful of omelet. She swallowed. “Nothing at all is going on with me and Trace. We’re just friends.” Her own words took her by surprise. “I mean we’re not really friends. He’s my boss, and I’m his employee, and it’s strictly professional between us.”
Charley folded her arms. “I meant what’s going on with the duck.”
“Oh.” Lily’s foot bounced against the barstool. “I found a bunch of orphaned ducks on the road when I was riding a tricycle from the ferry.”
Charley’s mouth fell open.
Once Lily started, she couldn’t stop. “Trace was good enough to keep it a secret at first because I must’ve looked ridiculous, but then Ben named one Megan.” She gobbled up more omelet. “Trace caught me trying to take Megan to the vet on a bicycle, and she turned out to be a male, so that sort of made up for the name, and then . . .” Lily bit off the part about her and Trace almost kissing. “So can I have a ride into town?”
It took Charley a minute to absorb everything. Finally, she recovered. “Do you have any idea how much I need a friend like you?” She pulled a large tray of pastries from a storage cabinet and set it on the counter. “You’ve managed more adventure in your life in less than two weeks at the Remington than I’ve had in the last year.”
Lily could use a little less adventure at the moment.
Charley went back for a second tray of pastries. “Come on. We’ll drop the kids off at school, I’ll take you wherever you need to go, and then we can deliver these to my friend.”
“Thanks.” Lily picked up one of the trays. She very much wanted to meet Charley’s friend. Lily had her fingers crossed that Charley and her friend could solve the food service problem at the resort. If it worked out, all she’d have to do was get Trace’s stamp of approval.
Work. Work was her lifeline. She and Trace had already swerved way too far into the personal zone, so from now on, they would focus on work and nothing more.
She’d just keep telling herself that because she was her mother’s daughter. Denial would help her cope with the growing chemistry between Trace and her that had become impossible to ignore.
Angel Fire Falls Elementary School was bustling as they waited in line to drop off Ben and Sophie.
“It’s bigger than I thought it would be,” Lily said.
“This is a great place to raise kids.” Charley inched the Jeep forward. “That draws people to the island. Keeping them here is another thing.” She shrugged. “Small-town life isn’t for everyone. Jobs are mostly based on tourism, so it’s not always easy to make a living here.”
That fact had become painfully clear to Lily already. Experience in the hotel industry told her the resort would eventually sink unless she turned things around. Part of the Remington’s success would be finding a solution to its food-service problem. Fingers crossed, Charley and her friend who owned the food cart would consider the proposal Lily planned to pitch to them when they dropped off the pastries.
Two kids tumbled out of the car in front of them, so Charley inched forward.
“There’s my teacher!” Ben shouted from the back seat.
A midtwenties woman with blue-tipped hair greeted the kids in the unloading zone.
Seemed like the perfect kind of person to help with the children’s summer activities calendar Lily wanted to develop. She made a mental note to contact the school soon.
When it was their turn, Ben shouted a goodbye and scrambled out of the Jeep.
Sophie leaned through the front seats and gave her mom a kiss. Charley hugged her. “Have a good day, sweetie.” She leaned back to peek through the open door as Sophie climbed out. “Hi, Miss Etheridge!”
The young teacher waved as Sophie shut the door.
Charley pulled away from the school. “My friend won’t get to her food cart for another forty-five minutes. Any place you need to go first?”
“I need a few groceries,” Lily said. “My fridge and cupboards are pretty bare.”
Charley drove to the grocery store, where they wandered through the small market. It was mostly filled with healthy organic choices, and Lily loaded her cart.
“So you and Trace . . .” Charley walked beside the cart. She left the statement open-ended.
“There is no me and Trace.”
“Uh-huh,” Charley said, unconvinced.
They walked down the hygiene aisle, and Lily grabbed shampoo, conditioner, and body wash.
Charley stepped in front of the cart, bringing it to a halt. She grabbed a box of SECOND SKIN condoms and read the package. “Warms to the touch.” She tossed it in the basket.
“Hey!” Lily snatched them up. “I do not need-”
A woman in her fifties wearing a T-shirt that said GOT MORALS? pushed her cart past and sniffed.
Lily waited for her to turn onto the next aisle. “I do not need condoms,” she whispered.
“I’ve known Trace all his life. Trust me when I say he’s never looked at any woman the way he looks at you.” Charley snatched them out of Lily’s hand. “Not even his ex-wife.” She tossed the purple box back into the cart like it was a basketball free throw. “Score.” She waggled both eyebrows.
Heat singed the tips of Lily’s ears. “Seriously. I can’t get involved with my boss again—”
Dammit.
Charley’s expression went from sly to sympathetic. “For the record, Trace is a really good guy, but I don’t blame you for not wanting things to get personal at work.”
That sounded like the voice of experience.
“Still, there’s something between you two, even if there isn’t,” Charley said. “Know what I mean?”
Did Lily ever. She couldn’t stop her body from going up in flames every time she and Trace stepped into a room together.
Charley nodded to the box of condoms in the cart. “Never hurts to plan ahead. Just in case.”
“Let’s get outta here.” Lily pushed the cart to the register and looked away when the male clerk rang them up with a quick, knowing look in her direction.
They loaded the bags into the back of the Jeep and got in.
“Need to go anywhere else?” Charley asked.
“Actually, if you’re ready to deliver the pastries, I want to meet your friend. I’d like to run an idea by both of you.”
“Sounds intriguing.” Charley turned right onto Marina Boulevard, which ran straight through town.
Lily took in Angel Fire Falls for the first time in daylight. It had been almost dark when Trace had driven her to and from the vet, and her full attention had stayed on the duck. And what Trace would’ve tasted like if they’d actually kissed. Sightseeing had been the last thing on her mind.
The small tourist town was every bit as picturesque as the pictures she’d found online before she’d moved. It was nestled on the far eastern coast of the island where the landscape dipped into a valley between the soaring cliffs to the south and the rolling hills to the north.
If the landscape and harbor were gorgeous, the town itself was just as charming with its colorful clapboard buildings lining both sides of the main street. The flower boxes and hanging planters weren’t in bloom yet, but it had to be breathtaking in its full summer glory.
This early in the morning, not many people were out and about on the main strip, home of numerous shops mostly geared to tourists. They parallel parked along the curb close to an old pink-and-white VW van that had been converted into a food cart. BRILEY’S BURGERS & BREWS was painted on the side.
“Best burgers on the West Coast,” Charley said. “Briley will be inside setting up.”
They carried both pastry trays to the back door of the van. Charley tapped out the knock-knock jingle, and the door slid open.
A woman about Lily’s age—with black hair and an A-line haircut framing her beautiful face—greeted them. “Morning!”
“Briley, this is Lily. She’s working at the Remington.”
“Nice to meet you. Come on in.” She disappeared inside the van.
They followed her, but Charley stood in the open door because there wasn’t enough room for all three of them. Lily was impressed with Briley’s ingenuity. On the outside, the van had wheels with a metal skirt all the way around to secure it to the street. On the inside, everything remotely related to an automobile had been gutted, including the floor so there was enough headroom to stand up and move around. It was a small space but so efficiently laid out that it worked as a full-service kitchen.
“This is remarkable.” Lily took in the setup.
“Thanks.” Briley shrugged. “It’s not fancy, but it’s mine. Between Charley’s pastries and my burgers, we do pretty well.” Briley poured three coffees from a commercial-grade travel container.
“I’m certain you do.” Lily took one of the coffees. “I’ve had Charley’s doughnuts.” She sipped from the cup.
Lily ran a fingertip along the rim of the cup. “You two are pretty resourceful. How would you feel about teaming up with the Remington?”
A look passed between Briley and Charley.
“I assume this has something to do with you finally getting Mrs. Ferguson to retire?” Charley asked.
“Oh, I didn’t get her to retire.” Lily smiled. “I reassigned her to a different department that I think will be a better fit.”
One of Charley’s brows arched.
“Which leaves the Remington’s kitchen and dining hall available for an independent restaurateur to rent the space.” Lily took another sip, then let the cup hover at her lips. “At a very affordable price.” She let the two ladies digest the idea, then added, “You’d need to be open for business by the Remington’s summer kickoff weekend. Until then, you’d have to continue providing morning coffee and doughnuts for the guests. It’s the only source of food left at the resort now that Mrs. Ferguson has other responsibilities.” She sipped and swallowed. “Can you manage that?”
Charley and Briley shot each other another look that said this might be the opportunity they’d been waiting for.
Charley lifted her coffee cup in a toast. “I like the way you think, Lily Barns.”
Briley joined her. “You’re exactly what this island needs.”
Lily took another drink and stared at their cups for a beat before lifting hers.
The sip of coffee didn’t go down as smoothly this time. Charley was becoming a friend, and it didn’t feel right to hold back the truth from people she was starting to care about.
And she was definitely starting to care about the entire Remington family.