Part 3 (1/2)

Her frustration with the size of the bathroom was worth the trade-off for the rest of the apartment. The remainder of her loft-style living area was open and boasted plenty of natural light.

The apartment was tucked beneath the gable roof of the garage but had large windows at either end of the room. In the summer she opened them both and enjoyed a cross-breeze that nearly eliminated the need for air-conditioning.

Since she'd been saving every penny for a car, she had only furnished with the bare necessities. A futon and secondhand coffee table faced one of the windows, and an Asian-inspired screen she'd picked up at a yard sale divided the room from the * 33 *

platform bed on the far side. The corner opposite the bathroom housed what was really nothing more than a kitchenette. She didn't bemoan her lack of a full kitchen since she rarely put together anything more complicated than a salad at home.

Having been on her own since she was eighteen, she had sacrifi ced comfort at home to pay for her education. But after she'd graduated and got her fi rst job as an a.s.sistant pastry chef, she began saving for the day she could fi nd a new place. Then about a year and a half ago she happened to see the listing for this apartment in the newspaper and had quickly called the landlords, praying no one had already snapped it up.

It was much nicer than the last apartment she'd lived in, which was little more than a roof over her head in an undesirable neighborhood. The incredibly reasonable rent she paid made the apartment even more attractive. Her landlords were generous and had told her to do anything she liked to fi x it up.

She descended the steps outside and crossed the aggregate drive toward the main house. She actually enjoyed the fi fteen-minute walk to the bus stop on beautiful afternoons like this one, and as she strolled down the tree-lined drive she realized she was unusually excited about going to work. Since she'd started at Drake's, she'd always enjoyed her job, but today she buzzed with uncharacteristic antic.i.p.ation. She recalled the fl utter in her stomach while she had studied Sawyer's profi le against the backdrop of the city speeding by. She still didn't know much about Sawyer, but somehow she knew if they worked together for any period of time she would.

”Good afternoon,” Sawyer called as she strolled into the kitchen.

The kitchen was empty except for Erica, who carried a clipboard and was checking off items in the large stainless-steel refrigerators along the far wall.

* 34 *

”You're early,” she said with a note of surprise in her voice.

Sawyer shrugged. She knew she had arrived an hour before Erica expected her. She had awakened early, and even after showering, lingering over breakfast, and running some errands, she had plenty of time before dinner.

”Don't you have someone who can do that for you?” she asked, nodding at the clipboard in Erica's hand.

”Are you volunteering?” She turned toward Sawyer with a sigh and set the board down on the nearest counter. ”Until you signed on, I was short a server. Brady and Chuck are handling dinner six days a week with their a.s.sistants fi lling the gaps.

Jori has been a G.o.dsend because my a.s.sistant pastry chef was defi nitely not ready to step up. So to answer your question, no, I don't have anyone else to do this stuff. I'm the manager. It's my job.”

”Well, maybe you should hire someone to help out, at least until after the baby's born.” The fatigue in Erica's voice had immediately made Sawyer feel guilty, and she could practically hear her mother chastising her for baiting her sister. She knew Erica was a chef at heart, yet she'd stepped in when neither Sawyer nor Brady had volunteered to take over their father's managerial duties, making her a heck of a lot less selfi sh than them.

”I can't hire someone just because I don't want to do this stuff. I have to consider a little thing called profi t.”

”Geez, Erica, you don't have to talk to me like I'm a child.”

”Well, stop acting like one,” she snapped.

Sawyer bit back a sharp reply. A crack about hormones would only earn her a dose of Erica's temper.

”What the h.e.l.l are you so mad about?” Sawyer asked.

”I didn't plan for any of this. I'm supposed to be cooking, not running the place. I never thought I would be pregnant and facing raising a child alone. I always thought the father would be in the picture. And he's not.”

”He's an a.s.shole. You're better off without him. And no one could've predicted Dad would get sick.” Erica's outburst startled * 35 *

Sawyer. She seemed to have everything together, so much so that she had time to critique Sawyer's life. It had never occurred to her that it might be a faade.

”But he did. And here I am, ignoring everything else for Drake's. Just like he did.”

”That's not fair. You know he wasn't ignoring us.”

Sawyer didn't have many childhood memories of her father that didn't involve being at the restaurant. When she was old enough, she had come to understand that he didn't spend so much time away from his family because he wanted to, but rather because he felt he should. Examining her grandparents'

relations.h.i.+p, Sawyer had fi nally realized that Tom was raised to believe that working hard and making sure they didn't want for anything was his way of providing for his family. And he relied on Tia to fulfi ll their emotional needs.

Erica snapped up her clipboard from the counter and returned to the inventory. ”Just forget it, Sawyer.”

A strained silence still hung between them when Jori walked in.

Jori was several paces into the room before she noticed the tension that hung between its occupants. She hesitated, but it was too late to retreat so she continued silently to the pantry and pulled out the supplies she would need for that day's dinner. From the corner of her eye she saw Sawyer leave the room without a word.

Drake's was famous for varying their desserts. Instead of a printed menu they had several different daily selections. The servers were briefed before each s.h.i.+ft and were responsible for letting the patrons know what the menu was. Usually Jori arrived in the early afternoon to begin preparing the evening's dishes.

She had picked up some fresh peaches from the farmers'

market the day before, so one of tonight's desserts was a cobbler. She set a large pot of water on the stove, then measured ingredients.

”Everything okay?” she asked when Erica came over, picked * 36 *

up one of the peaches, and smelled it, then absently pa.s.sed it back and forth between her hands.

”Yeah, just family stuff,” she said dismissively as she slid onto a nearby stool.

”How are you feeling?” Jori sensed that Erica wanted to change the subject. She loaded the peaches in a steamer basket and lowered it into the boiling water.

”Well, other than the fact that by the end of the night my shoe size goes up two sizes, I feel good.”

”It's no wonder. I rarely see you sit down until well after the dinner rush.” She leaned around Erica and grabbed another large pot, which she fi lled with ice and water.

”I don't have time to sit down. What are you doing with these peaches?”

”Peach cobbler.” She pulled the basket from the hot water and submerged it in the cold water. ”This will make the skin come off easily.”

”Cobbler? You're going to make me gain a hundred pounds before the end of this pregnancy.”

”It's quality control. You have to taste the dish before we serve it, don't you?” Jori joked.

”Of course.”

In the weeks after she'd hired Jori, Erica had worried that her new pastry chef wasn't fi tting in. After closing, when they would all gather around to talk, Jori busied herself cleaning up her area and rarely joined their conversation. But slowly she had begun to come out of her sh.e.l.l. And Erica soon fi gured out that she was just uncomfortable in a group.

She had soon seen Jori occasionally joke around with Brady and Chuck throughout the night and made an extra effort to converse with her when a lot of people weren't around. But Jori still seemed reluctant to talk about her personal life. She had responded to all of Erica's inquiries about her family with unspecifi c answers and a quick subject change.

Jori seemed uncomfortable talking about herself and * 37 *

obviously struggled with the social ease that came so easily to Sawyer, which was one reason they seemed an odd match. But clearly there was a glimmer of interest, at least on Sawyer's part.