Chapter Twenty-Five

ANA AND MELODY had demanded that Rachel call them once she was home from her date, but when Alex left her at her front door, she was too conflicted to do anything but analyze and decompress. Instead, she tapped in a message saying she had a great time and inviting the girls over for breakfast at her house, where she would no doubt be peppered with questions. At least that would give her time to formulate answers.

Normally, she’d go straight to the kitchen and cook something to let her percolating thoughts straighten themselves into some semblance of order, but she’d meant it when she said she was stuffed. Alex was actually a good cook —the food had been hearty, filling, and well prepared, even by her standards. Ana would probably dismiss the dinner as his way of getting off the hook for coming up with an elaborate date, but Rachel had to believe that Alex had known exactly what would be meaningful to her.

She turned on the electric kettle and then retreated to her bedroom to change from her filmy dress into a pair of lounge pants and a T-shirt. After she poured herself a cup of herbal tea —no point making it any more difficult to sleep than it already would be —she climbed into bed and turned on a late-night TV show she knew full well she wouldn’t watch.

She’d never met anyone like Alex Kanin. Driven, yet grounded and playful. Principled, even moral, but with a wicked sense of humor. Rather than being scared off by a woman in charge, he seemed to appreciate her strength. Found it appealing, even.

Impulsively, she flicked on her reading lamp and reached for the journal that sat on top of her Bible on her nightstand. She’d continued with her daily readings, but she hadn’t been able to write more than a few words in the journal since leaving Paisley. Not because she was still mourning that loss —even though she was —but because somewhere inside her, she was afraid naming those happy moments in her day would cause them to flee as quickly as they’d come.

Slowly, she opened the journal and wrote today’s date, her heart thudding dully in her throat. It took her several moments to get the courage to write the word.

Alex.

Rachel snapped the book shut and pressed the top edge to her lips, trying to push down the flutter of panic that welled up inside her. Silly, maybe. No, definitely. But putting him in the journal was like acknowledging he’d earned a permanent place in her life.

The thought was simultaneously more thrilling and more terrifying than she’d expected.

Her phone screen lit up on her bedside table, and she snatched it up, hoping it might be a message from Alex. Instead it was Melody’s reply: I’m there. I want details!

Almost immediately, Ana responded: Me too! See you tomorrow.

Rachel put the phone back down, cursing the renewed surge of adrenaline coursing through her system. She’d never get to sleep at this rate. Instead she picked up the composition book on her nightstand and looked over the menu she’d set for the following weekend.

She’d been so sure about it before, but now it seemed simplistic. Appropriate for an impromptu gathering with friends, but not an accurate example of the kind of food she’d want to cook in her new restaurant. She needed to up her game. Show Mitchell Shaw that she could match any of the big-name chefs in New York or London.

All of whom had worse reputations for being prickly than she did.

Rachel pushed away the flash of irritation at the double standard, flipped to a clean page, and began making notes until she had line after line of different dishes. She tossed aside the notebook and strode into the living room to her bookshelf. She filled her arms with cookbooks thick and thin, cuisine and home cooking, then struggled back to her bed with them.

Hours later, multiple books lying open around her, she thought she’d found her new menu. It was perfect. Elegant and balanced, light enough to account for the heat but still satisfying. She had sketched plating ideas on the following pages, using the blooming plants on Alex’s patio for inspiration. It would require some careful thought to tie each dish together, but she could do it. As she looked at the page, her chest filled with a determination she hadn’t felt since the day she walked out of Paisley. She would have her own place again, and this was the menu that would do it for her.

*   *   *

“Okay, spill. You’ve been tight-lipped since we walked in.”

Rachel threw a look at Melody over her shoulder. “I’m busy. I’m cooking. You should know better than to ask me to answer questions when I’m cooking.” She pulled open the oven to check on the cheese-and-bacon scones currently baking in the oven and then closed it quickly. Two more minutes, maybe three. Saturday breakfast had turned out to be more of a brunch anyway. Melody liked to grab a couple of hours’ sleep when she got off at six, so the clock was already edging toward noon.

Ana, on the other hand, had probably been up since sunrise, hitting the gym first thing before her day got started. If Rachel had her discipline when it came to exercise, the waistband of her jeans wouldn’t be digging into her stomach quite so much right now.

“I think she’s avoiding the question,” Melody said to Ana.

“I’d say she’s definitely avoiding the question.” Ana reached for her coffee and took a sip.

“I’m not avoiding, I promise. I will answer any and all of your questions as soon as we sit down to eat.” Rachel wrapped a towel around the handle of the cast-iron pan that held their veggie frittata and transferred it to the table, then put the lightly dressed salad next to it. She pulled the tray of scones from the oven, now turned a lovely golden color. Those went onto a plate along with a small bowl of bacon gravy. “I think that’s it. Did I forget anything?”

“Maybe a dolly to wheel us out of here when we’re done?” Ana stared wide-eyed at the spread. “Seriously, Rach, you made enough food for ten people.”

“Then take it home and have it for breakfast tomorrow.” Rachel slid into her chair. “Besides, how long have you known me? I cook.”

“Especially when you have something on your mind.” Ana waggled her eyebrows at Rachel. “Or is it a someone?”

Heat rose to her cheeks. “Whatever. Does someone want to say grace?”

Melody jumped in to say the blessing as eloquently as ever, and then the only sound was that of serving spoons against platters and forks and knives against plates.

“These scones are amazing,” Melody said.

“They should be. It’s your scone recipe. I just added the bacon, cheese, and chives to make them more savory.”

“Really good,” Ana mumbled, covering her half-filled mouth with her hand. “Worth the extra four thousand sit-ups I’m going to have to do later.”

Rachel laughed and turned back to her own food. When she’d been working, they managed to do this sort of thing once a month, if they were lucky. She’d probably seen her friends more the past few weeks than she had all year. “I’ve missed you guys.”

“We saw you yesterday,” Melody said. “Stop stalling. Tell us about this date of yours.”

Rachel smiled, trying to keep it a notch below a Cheshire cat grin, and sketched the outlines of the evening for them. “You know, he’s a pretty good cook. I was surprised. I was fully preparing myself to lie.”

“Rachel lying about food?” Ana said. “Must be serious.”

Melody looked impressed. “He made you his family recipes? That takes some guts on multiple levels. I like this guy already.”

“Me too,” Rachel said.

They stared at her.

“What?”

“You . . . no.” Ana cocked her head. “Maybe?”

Rachel frowned. “What are we talking about?”

“You and Alex. What exactly is it that you like about him?”

The smile came back, unbidden. “He’s a good guy. Principled, more down-to-earth than I would have expected considering the press and the fancy condo. The unreasonably hot part aside, it’s easy to be around him.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth at the jitter of pleasure that came along with the thought. “It feels good to be with him.”

Melody gasped. “You are! You’re in love with him!”

She couldn’t even deny it. “What do I do?”

“What do you mean?” Ana asked. “Seems pretty clear to me.”

All the pleasure she’d felt, all the nervous excitement, seemed to drain out of her, leaving only a cold knot of dread. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I don’t want a relationship. Besides, it’s not like he feels the same way. This is temporary. He knows it. He wouldn’t have hustled me out of his place so quickly if he didn’t.”

They continued to stare at her. Rachel sighed and recounted the intense moments on his roof deck, leaving out the part where thoughts of staying for more than dessert had flitted through her mind.

“Does he have a brother exactly like him?” Ana asked. “Usually on a first date I have to explain why I’m not going to sleep with the guy, and suddenly I’m frigid.”

“What Ana’s trying to say is that Alex obviously respects you. Or has some personal convictions of his own. Or both. That’s not the kind of thing a guy does when you’re just temporary. Trust me. He doesn’t want to do anything to ruin this.”

Rachel looked between her friends, trying to ignore the way their words buoyed her heart. “Maybe he doesn’t, but I’m not willing to sacrifice everything I’ve accomplished for a man. My mother did that, and look where it got her.”

“Alex is not Dale,” Melody said. “Has he ever once said anything to make you think he’d want to change you?”

“No,” Rachel said. “But my stepfather never gave us any hint he wanted to change us either. He seemed perfect . . . right up until he wasn’t. And by the time we got a look at his true nature, it was too late.”

Ana and Melody exchanged a look, clearly not swayed. Melody took her hand. “At some point you’re going to have to take a leap of faith. Rachel, in all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you light up like this. You’re passionate about your cooking, yes. But you attack that like a challenge to be conquered.”

Ana smiled. “You’re happy. That’s not something you run away from.”

Rachel looked between them, conflicted. “So what? I just . . . keep seeing him? Hope I don’t find any deal-breakers? Or better yet, hope that I find them before I invest too much time in the relationship?”

“That’s pretty much what dating is,” Melody said with a smile. “Just don’t . . . you know . . . get carried away. You think you’ve got those borders drawn pretty well until things get serious. Trust me, the whole ‘saving it for marriage’ thing sounds a lot easier than it is, especially when you’re kind of inexperienced and the guy is hot.” She sighed. “If I could go back and have this conversation with past me, I’d save myself some idiotic mistakes.”

Rachel flashed Melody a sympathetic smile. Deep down, she was a trusting soul who wanted to see the best in everyone; unfortunately, she’d run into some men who viewed that tender heart as something to exploit, who said all the right things to bypass her best intentions.

“Don’t worry,” Ana said. “You’ll find out fast whether Alex’s convictions are real when he’s not getting any.” Ana threw up her hands at Rachel’s look. “What? I call them like I see them. Maybe I should just take a break from dating for a while. I’ve got plenty going for me without a man. If God really has the perfect guy, I’ll run into him at the grocery store or something, right?”

“I hope so,” Melody said with a sigh. “I’m too tired to put any effort into looking for one.”

“I really hate to bring this up,” Ana said, “but does Alex understand what your life is like when you’re working? Right now you have all this time on your hands, but eventually you’ll open another restaurant. Is he ready for that?”

“I don’t know,” Rachel said. “It’s not like we’ve talked about it. But if he really cares about me, he’ll understand. Right?”

“That’s the hope,” Melody said.

Ana shook her head. “I can’t believe it. Our little girl is growing up. Next thing you know, we’ll be walking you down the aisle.”

“Stop.” Rachel threw her napkin at Ana and they all dissolved into laughter. “Anyway, it’s not like I have any time to think about it. This next supper club might be the one. Alex has an investor coming.”

“What do you know about him?” Ana sipped her coffee and turned back to her plate.

Apparently, the interrogation about Alex was over. Rachel relaxed. “Only that it’s Bryan’s dad. He’s a real estate developer.”

Ana choked on her food, and Melody had to pat her on the back until she stopped coughing. “Mitchell Shaw? Please tell me you actually know who that is.”

“Should I? I barely know Bryan.”

“Ever hear of the Shaw Building?”

Rachel’s eyes widened. Everyone knew about the new development in Lower Downtown, near Union Station. It had been getting press ever since the foundation was laid. “Wait, he’s that Shaw?”

Ana nodded. “He’s a millionaire, maybe a billionaire for all I know. Developer, philanthropist, activist. Last I heard, they’re naming the new arts center at CU Boulder after him. He must have given a chunk of change to the program.”

Rachel’s stomach gave a brutal twist. She hadn’t put it together, but even she knew about the huge dinner parties and benefits and concerts that the Shaws put on multiple times a year for Denver’s elite businessmen and intellectuals. “I wish you hadn’t told me that.”

“Relax,” Ana said. “He’s probably eaten at one of your restaurants already. All you have to do is give him a vision for your new place, and he either likes it or he doesn’t. Hopefully he’ll like it. Because with the backing of Mitchell Shaw, your PR problems instantly go away.”

“He still has retail spaces open in his building,” Melody said. “You land him, you could potentially land a prime LoDo location.”

Rachel threw Melody an exasperated look. “You too? You’re supposed to be the one telling me that everything happens for a reason, and if it’s meant to be, it will be.”

“Oh, I still believe all that. But I also believe he can open doors for you that other investors couldn’t. Assuming you want to walk through them.”

Rachel took a deep breath and blew it back out. She had this. She was confident in her menu. It was well-balanced in flavor, texture, and theme; complex without being fussy; technique-dependent but not too showy. Anyone who knew food would know the effort it took to make it look effortless and be suitably impressed. Assuming she pulled it off like she knew she could.

No, no reason to borrow trouble. She may not know what to do about her relationship with Alex, but she knew how to cook. It was the one thing she’d always been good at, the one thing that never let her down. She could do this.

“Yes, you can,” Melody said, squeezing her hand across the table. Apparently Rachel had said that last part out loud. “Are you sure you don’t need help?”

“Alex’s sister is running food for me. She’s amazing, so no worries there.”

No, Dina was the least of Rachel’s concerns. Usually her brunch meetings with her friends made her feel better, but now the stakes for her future felt ten times higher.

With Mitchell Shaw. And with Alex.