Kaye Dacus - Menu for Romance

She tried to think which of the cooks he might have met who would have claimed to be anything but an employee of hers. “Which one?”

“Major O’Hara.”

“Oh, he’s a chef, not a cook.”

Ward chuckled. “Isn’t that the same thing?”

“No. The title ‘chef ’ is usually reserved for someone who’s been to culinary school.”

“And that’s a big deal?”

“It would be like me calling someone a contractor who doesn’t have a license.”

“Yeah—I guess it is a big deal when you put it that way. Anyway, I saw Chef O’Hara at the gym tonight. Told him that you wanted him to be involved in the kitchen design, so I’m going to set up a time to get together with him to get his ideas.”

The idea of Ward sitting down one-on-one with Major scared her for some reason. “Let me know when so that I can give you my input as well.”

Ward launched into his ideas for the kitchen design. Meredith only half listened as they followed the hostess through the large restaurant to a table near the rear windows overlooking the University Lakes. As usual when in public, the other half of her attention was focused on looking around to see if she knew anyone in the room. It wouldn’t do to walk past a former client without at least a greeting—that was one of the first things she’d ever learned from Anne.

Meredith opened the large, leather-like menu and started perusing the many selections. She’d eaten here only a couple of times since they’d open a year ago, and then with the family, so they had ordered the family-sized dishes and shared.

The waitress came to the table, introduced herself, and asked if they wanted drinks and an appetizer.

“Go ahead and bring us a basket of fried mushrooms and two iced teas.”

“Actually, make mine Sprite with a twist of orange, please,” Meredith hastily corrected, miffed Ward had assumed what she would want.

As soon as the waitress departed, Ward covered her hand with his. “Sorry, I should have asked instead of guessing.”

“That’s okay. I do usually drink iced tea, but sometimes I get in the mood for something else.”

They discussed the menu items, and Meredith wasn’t any more ready to order when the waitress came back with their drinks than before.

“Do you need more time, Mere?” Ward looked at her with those heavenly eyes.

She wished her heart would pitter-patter or skip a beat or something. “Go ahead and order, and I’ll make a decision by the time you’re finished.”

After the waitress finished flirting with Ward with her eyes, Meredith ordered crawfish and shrimp alfredo and gave the waitress her menu along with a warning glance. The girl had the good grace to look apologetic.

Though the tight waistband of Meredith’s skirt warned her she shouldn’t indulge in the fried mushrooms, once she tasted one with the sweet horseradish dipping sauce, she couldn’t help but eat a few of them. She didn’t want to go back to the much larger size she’d gotten to in college—turning to food after Brent announced his engagement to her roommate—but she wasn’t so concerned about her weight that she wouldn’t allow herself to indulge in treats every so often.

As they ate dinner, Ward told stories about his siblings, and Meredith shared a few about hers.

“Do you ever get to a point where, while you still love them, you’re just good and sick of your relatives?” Ward asked.

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been going through for the last two weeks, as a matter of fact.”

“Really? What happened?”

“You.” Meredith grinned at him.

“Me? Was it because we ran into your brother?”

“Sort of, but it was what you said on our first date—asking me if I ever got away from them. And I realized, I never do. That project house has become something of a refuge for me, and I didn’t even realize it until you put it into words. The whole reason I’ve been so gung ho about doing the renovations myself is because that was the only place I could think of where I could get away from all of them.”

“Good for you.”

“Yeah, it was amazing—I realized I had no private life with my family, and that I needed to take a stand. I decided not to tell them about you.” Meredith kept her face straight—because Ward’s was so expressive when she teased him.

“You don’t want them to know about me?”

“That’s right. Unfortunately, one of my younger brothers occasionally goes out with one of the receptionists at the office, and she told him about you coming to pick me up last week; so he asked me about it in front of a bunch of siblings and cousins last night.” And Major. She still cringed at that. But everything had seemed pretty normal during their meeting this morning.

“And what did you tell them?” Ward swirled his tea in his glass. The sugar sludge in the bottom barely budged. She still couldn’t decide if it was endearing or just gross that he added sugar to already sweetened tea.

“I didn’t have to say anything. Forbes—the brother you met—came to my defense. Of course, that was only after I blasted him Sunday afternoon for prying.” And then she’d run out like a child. But he didn’t need to know that part.

“Can I interest you two in dessert? Tiramisu or apple crostata or amaretto cheesecake?”

Meredith’s mouth watered at the mention of cheesecake, her favorite dessert.

“What do you want, Mere?”

“We have a chocolate Gianduia cake that’s to die for.”

“I’m not real big on chocolate.” It shouldn’t be that hard of a decision. “I think I’m going to have to pass. My rule is usually that I can have either appetizers or a dessert, but not both. And since I’m taking half my meal home with me...”

“What about this?” Ward reached across the table and took her hand. “Why don’t you order whatever you want, and I’ll split it with you?”

How could such a completely generous and caring man engender absolutely no emotional response from her other than gratitude and a general liking? “Okay. Do you have a cheesecake that doesn’t have almonds or amaretto? I’m allergic.”

“We have a mascarpone cheesecake, but it has walnuts in the crust.”

“Walnuts are fine. Let’s go with that.”

“I’ll be right back with it.”

Meredith liked the warmth of Ward’s hand around hers—and the idea that anyone in the restaurant looking at them would think they were really a couple ... that she really had feelings for this handsome man, that someone had chosen her.

“You slipped away from me there for a minute.” Ward’s thumb circled her palm. “Where were you just now?”

“My mind wandered.”

He grinned. “Fine, keep your secrets.”

“I have to start somewhere. I need the practice.” The feel of his thumb rubbing her palm nearly sent her into a trance. She squeezed his hand to get him to stop.

“Do you already have plans for Valentine’s Day?”

“I do. I’m working that night. It’s one of our biggest events of the year—a charity banquet and auction to benefit the cardiac care unit at University Hospital.”

“Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You work New Year’s Eve. You work Valentine’s Day. Let me guess ... you work the Fourth of July?”

“Not usually. But you did skip Easter.”

“Easter?”

“Yes. The multichurch sunrise service followed by the Easter egg hunt in Schuyler Park.”

“I thought the mayor’s wife did that. That’s what they always say on the news.”

“I know. The mayor’s wife is responsible for leading the events and awarding the prizes. So it’s a marquee event for her—show her involvement in the community.”

“But you plan and organize all of it?”

She shrugged and nodded. “It’s my job. I don’t need any special recognition for it.”

“Uh, yeah, you do. With all of these events falling within a couple of months, I’m surprised you have time to go out to dinner. Glad, but surprised.”

“I have a good team of planners and assistants who work with me. I learned early on in this business to identify people’s strengths and delegate responsibility to them.” Just as Anne had done with her. She’d zeroed in on Meredith’s need to please the people she was working with and put Meredith in charge of working with customers. Learning how to stand her ground with vendors had been a hardwon battle.

“I can tell you don’t take enough credit for the amount of work you do and that your coworkers probably take you for granted.”

He saw things so clearly—things that until she’d met him, her eyes had been closed to. “Maybe.”

“Have you ever considered leaving and doing something totally different?”

Only every time she worked a major event. “Occasionally.”

“Like becoming an interior designer—maybe one who works hand in hand with a particular contractor?”

“Why, Ward Breaux—are you offering me a job?” She laughed, but it faded quickly when his expression remained serious.

“I haven’t seen your design aesthetic, but I can imagine it’s got to be impeccable, just from what I know about you and the work you’ve done on your house.”

The waitress chose that moment to return with the dessert. “Here you go. Enjoy.”

Meredith hardly tasted the first bite, still stunned by Ward’s offer. Leave B-G and go to work with him? Do the kind of work she’d gone to school for?

“Of course, I know you wouldn’t make nearly what you make as an executive director with a huge corporation. But there’s something to be said for job satisfaction.”

She couldn’t let him believe she didn’t like her job. “I do have satisfaction in my work.” She thought about the happy faces of the people at the New Year’s Gala. “I make people happy by giving them the best event possible.”

“But is that what you really want to do for the rest of your life? If you say yes, I promise I’ll never mention designing again. But if you can’t say yes, I want you to think about what I said.”

She opened her mouth to answer in the affirmative, but something stopped her tongue from forming the word.

Ward nodded. “I won’t pressure you, but I just want you to think about it, ’kay?”

“I don’t think I’ll have any trouble doing that.”

“So, you know what I’m thinking? Concrete floors.”

Meredith prepared to laugh, then realized that Antoine Delacroix looked like he really meant what he said. “Concrete floors?”

“Yeah. We rip out all this old wood—it just makes everything dark and closed in—and do painted concrete floors.”

The months of lovingly restoring the crown molding, the door and window facings, the built-ins made Meredith’s fingers tingle with indignation. “Rip out the wood?”

“Yeah. And I’m thinking a totally modern kitchen—colored, laminated, stainless steel and glass, very streamlined.”

Mouth agape, she could only stare as Alaine’s brother—her much younger brother—wandered from the dining room into the barren kitchen. When he’d shown up—almost an hour late—she’d been surprised that someone as young as he appeared to be was already a licensed contractor. And when he’d handed over his credentials, the recent date on the license had confirmed her suspicions.

“Maybe I didn’t explain properly over the phone.” Meredith followed him into the kitchen. “I want this house restored not remodeled.”

“Same diff.” Antoine waved his hand over his shoulder and continued on into the utility room. “Hey, that den is on the other side of this wall isn’t it?” He knocked on the back wall. “We could knock this wall out and put in a kickin’ wet bar.”

This walk-through couldn’t end soon enough. What had Alaine been thinking? If she’d meant to set Meredith up with Antoine romantically, she’d overlooked the fact that Meredith was a good ten to twelve years older than this kid. If she thought Meredith would like Antoine’s aesthetic, she’d been sorely mistaken.

She leaned heavily against the back door. “You know, Antoine, what I’m really looking for is someone who can come in and restore the house and keep the historical integrity while bringing the utilities and features, like kitchen and bathrooms, up to date.”

The wall-knocking stopped, and he stuck his head out of the utility room. “Really? Most folks I talk to want everything modern these days.”

“Well, call me old-fashioned, but I bought a craftsman-style house because I love the craftsman style.”

“Dude. You should have told me. I really don’t do old stuff.”

“I guess there’s no reason for me to waste more of your time, then, Antoine. I’ll walk you out.” Meredith waved him toward the front of the house.