Chef's Delight (Stories of Serendipity) Read online

  She tipped the beer to him in a thank you gesture. He tipped his back at her, and smiled a crooked smile. Jessica flushed and looked down.

  The DJ started playing another awful, top-forty song, and Summer grabbed Jessica’s wrist and dragged her onto the crowded dance floor. They danced to the next four songs before they took a break. Jessica went to the bar to get the next round of drinks, deciding this would be their last round. If she had much more, she wouldn’t be able to get home, much less drop off Summer. She managed to avoid the hot guy while she was ordering, but unfortunately, Asshole was right there next to her as soon as she got the bartender’s attention.

  “You look really good tonight, Jessie.” Jessica did what she could to ignore him. She was just starting to have fun tonight, and didn’t want him to kill her buzz.

  “Jessie. Look at me.” He grabbed her arm, and tried to turn her around to face him.

  Jessica yanked her arm out of his grasp, hitting a solid wall of muscle behind her. “I’m sorry,” she tossed over her shoulder absently at whomever she had just hit. “Chad, touch me again, and I’ll slap you with a restraining order so fast you’ll get whiplash.” She still wasn't sure if she could. Admittedly, she was talking out of her ass, hoping he would just leave her alone.

  “Touchy. I just want to talk to you.” He was drunk. He staggered back, caught himself, and grabbed the bar to stay upright. “You wouldn’t get a restraining order against me. Not after what all we’ve been through.” He slurred at her.

  “After all we’ve been through, you would be lucky if a restraining order is all you’d have to deal with from me. Please leave me alone, Chad.” Jessica grabbed hers and Summer’s beers and turned to leave, running smack into a solid wall of muscle. The muscle grasped her arms to keep her from falling. Chad grabbed her elbow and spun her around with so much force, she dropped one of the beers in her hand.

  “Don’t you EVER turn your back on me.” He spoke with a quiet fury, which reinforced the rage under the surface.

  Before she could react, a mass of white linen was between her and Chad, and all she could hear was a quiet murmur. Then she heard Chad’s voice.

  “Look, motherfucker! I don’t know who in the Hell you think you are, but I’m a cop, and you can’t talk to me that way. Asshole!”

  More soft murmuring. Then, “FUCK YOU!” Chad hauled off and punched the white wall, which Jessica was just noticing as a person, in the face. Bouncers materialized out of nowhere.

  “I’m sorry guys, y’all are gonna have to do this somewhere else, or we’re calling the cops.” Chad looked irate.

  “I am a cop, you dipshit. This guy is harassing me.”

  “Whatever. Outside.” The bouncer took Chad by the elbow and escorted him outside, the guy in white following. When they got a little farther away, Jessica noticed the guy in white was the same one who had bought her and Summer the drinks.

  “Oh, wow!” Summer’s voice came from over her shoulder.

  “You saw that?” Jessica turned to look at her friend.

  “I think the whole bar saw it.” Summer took her drink from Jessica, who had gotten another one from the bartender. "Is that the same guy that bought us a beer? I hope he kick's Chad's ass."

  "I think so. I'm not sure. I haven't gotten a good look at him." The haze of alcohol and emotion had Jessie's brain foggy.

  "Why didn't you go talk to him, Jessie?" Summer nudged her friend's knee under the table.

  "I don't know. I'm just not in the mood, tonight. I don't know how long it's going to take me to get over that shit with Chad, and I'm not sure I can if he keeps showing up everywhere I go." Jessie let out a frustrated sight, lifting her bangs with the exhale of breath.

  "They aren't all like that, surely."

  "You're right, but I don't feel like weeding through the rejects to find the right one, you know? I was just fine with my whole love them and leave them philosophy, until him. Now I don't even want to meet them, much less love them."

  "You got to get back in the saddle, hon."

  "I know. Just not tonight, okay?" Jessie finished her drink, and waited for Summer to finish. She was so ready to go home and get into her bed.

  "I'm just saying, you have to take risks. You're never going to find the right guy if you quit looking." Summer had the uncanny ability to make sense, even though she was swaying in her seat, almost unable to sit up straight.

  "Finish your drink. I'm ready to leave." Jessie's patience was wearing thin.

  "Gotcha, girlfriend." Standing unsteadily, Summer finished off her beer, managing to only spill a little down her chin, before allowing Jessie to help her outside.

  Chapter 2

  The phone woke Jessica the next morning at 8:30. “Whoever you are, thank you for waking me up.” She rubbed her eyes as she spoke, swinging her feet out of bed.

  “Jessie? I’m sorry, you’re usually up. It’s Kathy.”

  “Yeah, I know. I guess I had too much to drink last night. What’s up?”

  “I just wanted to let you know our dairy supplier is a jackass, and we need a new supply for goat cheese, and milk. I told you I had tried to get Connor to buy from you initially, but he wanted to buy from this other guy. Well, the other guy is a dumbass, so Connor is going to come out there later today, and see what you’ve got.”

  “Sure," Jessie said, groggily. "No problem. Is that why you couldn’t come out last night?”

  “Part of it. The fridge went out, too. I had to deal with all that stuff. It’s alright, though. Luke helped me until we got it finished. I probably could have gone out, but I was so tired. Was it fun?”

  “The girls’ part was fun. Chad was there, though. Ugh.” She shivered at the memory. God, what an ass.

  “Ok, well, I’m sorry I missed it.” Jessica could hear someone singing ‘Copperhead Road’ in the background.

  “Who is that, singing?”

  “Connor. What a dweeb. We’ll try to go out again next week, okay? Look, I’m sorry for waking you up and then running, but I’ve got to go. Love you.” Click.

  Well, that was Kathy, always on the go. Jessica got out of bed and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and put on some shorts. She had goats to milk.

  Out in the barn, Jessica plugged in the CD player, and put in Michael Jackson’s Thriller. The music was like a call to the goats. They knew what it meant. The needed some udder relief. Especially this morning, as Jessica was almost an hour late getting out to them.

  The barn was palatial. Jessica had taken out a loan to have her dairy licensed, because it was necessary in order to sell any of her goat milk products for consumption, which meant in the barn, she had concrete floors and running water, among other things. There was a separate room, where the babies slept. They hung out with mama all day, but they slept in their own room at night, so the mama’s milk bags were full in the morning. Jessica mixed up the milk in the multi-kid bucket feeders, and put them in the nursery for the kids to eat.

  After a few minutes, she could hear the girls coming in for their morning milking. She put out some hay and feed, and got started. First was Anna Marie. While Anna Marie was eating, Jessica snapped the lead on her collar, and using the lead and a bucket of food, she led her over to the stanchion, cooing softly to her.

  When she had first started milking her goats, it took her almost 30 minutes per goat to get a half of a gallon of milk. Now that everybody was used to the process, it only took about 10 minutes to get a whole gallon, and there was much less spillage. After Jessica got the gallon from Anna Marie, she put the milk in the industrial sized refrigerator in the barn, and went to get Sweetness. She had twenty goats to milk today, and she told herself to get busy.

  While she milked the goats, her mind was on last night. She wondered if Chad would ever leave her alone. She couldn’t for the life of her figure out what he still wanted from her. Except fear. She knew that he wanted her to be afraid of him. That was how his mind worked, right? The initial meeting had been over the th
reat of a ticket, which he'd let her out of. Ever since then, he'd tried various ways to make her afraid, yelling, threatening, belittling, and finally, hitting. She told herself again she would do something about him, soon. Maybe if she went to talk to Judge Foster, he could do something. That sounded an awful lot like tattling to Jessie, though, and she wasn't sure how effective that would be in getting Chad to leave her alone. Obviously, ignoring him wasn't going to work. It certainly hadn't so far.

  Jessie sighed to herself as she finished up with one goat, and moved on to the next. She had never really known a man that was able to make her happy. That was part of the problem. She just jumped from man to man, not really expecting happiness from any of them. She didn't need a man to make her happy anyways; she was doing fine by herself.

  Besides, Jessie wasn't even really sure what kind of man could make her happy. Her dad had never made her happy, not with his chronic alcoholism, his bigotry, or his philandering. And her older brother had left home as soon as he was old enough and never looked back. She didn't have any male role models to look to for examples of men that helped women. Maybe there was something wrong with her, fundamentally, that kept her from finding the man that was supposedly out there for her.

  She was so focused on sinking into her downward spiral of emotions and the task at hand, she didn’t notice the pick up truck that pulled into the driveway, blaring Lady Gaga from the speakers. Or the tall, sandy haired man with the tribal tattoos, who climbed out of the cab of the truck, looked around the yard, noticed the music, and started to amble out to the barn.

  Was that Smooth Criminal? Connor wondered as he walked out to the barn. He looked around the property on the way there. Not sure what he was getting himself into, he speculated about the occupant.

  The house was an older, sprawling ranch, which had not been particularly well-maintained. It needed new gutters, and definitely some roof work. Planted primarily in native grasses and flowers, the flowerbeds looked pristine, and the lawn was manicured with care. He saw raised gardens, with rosemary, basil, thyme, oregano, parsley, dill, cilantro, and lemon balm, among others. Connor inhaled deeply. At least he knew she cared about plants, maybe that gave a little credence to her cheese-making abilities. The state of disrepair of the house itself certainly didn't do much for his confidence in her ability. Shaking his head at his own judgmental thoughts, he tried to clear his head of conclusions before he saw her and said something stupid, like, Your house looks like it's falling down around your ears, and you want to sell me cheese?

  When he got to the barn door and peered inside, he stopped short at the vision in front of him. It was the woman from last night. The lovely lady from the bar was right here in front of him, sitting on a stanchion, behind a brown goat, milking it, singing along to the music blaring from the speakers of a small CD player. She was wearing a tank top, which was pulled up to just below her breasts, and the shortest cut-off shorts he had ever seen. She had her long auburn hair piled up on top of her head, and sweat was making tendrils of hair stick to her neck and face. She was wearing rubber muck boots. A vision, indeed. Lovely.

  And here he was staring at her. Again.

  Breaking the silence that had engulfed him, Connor said softly, “Michael Jackson, huh?”

  She jumped, and looked up at him, a flush creeping up her chest into her cheeks. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I came to see if you had any cheese.” He threw her the most charming grin he could muster.

  Jessica was beyond pissed. Some sleazeball had seen her at the bar last night and somehow figured out where she lived. Jesus. Like she needed two stalkers, even if one of them made her want to pull him to the cot in the corner and screw his brains out.

  “Are you out of your ever-loving mind?” Too furious for words, she gritted her teeth, and got up from her seat. She let Harriet out of the stanchion, and let her go with the other girls, which just left Rachael to milk. But Jessica had other plans first. She took the bucket of milk to the refrigerator. As she put the milk inside, she reached up on top of the fridge and pulled down her .410. Aiming it at the hot guy, she spoke coolly. “I don’t know what you were planning when you drove out here, Mister, but I’m going to tell you this once. And only once. Get the hell off my property. If I ever see you here again, I will shoot you.”

  His hands were in the air, and he was walking backwards as soon as he saw the gun in her hands. “I’m sorry, Jessica. I didn’t mean to startle you. Honestly, I came for cheese.”

  Jessica cocked the lever-action shot gun, which she kept in the barn for snakes and rats, and raised it above the man’s head, and fired. Obviously, not wanting to try her temper this morning, the hot man turned and jogged back to his truck. Jessica walked to the barn door, and watched him leave before she went back inside and finished milking Rachael.

  Connor slammed his truck door shut, and started the engine. Jesus! She shot at me! His barely controlled anger propelled Connor down the driveway, to the highway and back to the restaurant. Why in the world would she shoot at him? He couldn’t imagine, but whatever the reason, it put her firmly off limits in his mind. He had already done the psycho wife thing, he didn’t need another psycho woman in his life.

  He did feel stupid about it though, after last night and the jerkwad who had put his hands on her in the bar. Oh well, she didn’t have to know that was Connor. He certainly wasn’t going to tell her. He didn’t realize she was psychotic then, or he would have just minded his own business.

  When he got back to the restaurant, he was singing ‘So What’ by Pink, and still trying to figure out where to get goat cheese.

  “Oh my God! Jessie! What in the hell were you thinking?” Kathy was yelling into the phone at Jessica, who had to jerk it away from her ear to avoid permanent damage.

  “What are you talking about, Kathy?” Jessica had just finished feeding and milking the goats, and turning them all out into the pasture with the babies, grateful for some mama-loving.

  “You just shot at my boss! Do you have any idea what a foul mood he’s in now? He’s all singing pissed off songs. Jesus! What possessed you?” Kathy was as livid as Jessica had ever heard her.

  “I didn’t shoot at your boss. That was some other guy, from the bar. Oh…” When she realized what she might have done, Jessica felt all of the blood drain from her face, and her knees weakened. “That was Connor?” she finished weakly. “The restaurant owner?”

  “Yeah. That was Connor Wright, the owner of Estelle’s. My boss,” Kathy replied dryly. “You have got some making up to do. And if you want to make it good, it better be done before the dinner prep gets going. We really need some goat cheese here.” She slammed down the phone.

  Jessica threw herself in the shower to wash her hair and shave her legs. Then she dug through her closet to find her flared black skirt, and bolero jacket, which she wore over a teal colored tank top. She blow-dried her hair, and fastened on some strappy, high-heeled sandals before grabbing all of the cheeses she had made in the fridge and throwing them in a thermal tote. She jumped in her truck and raced into town to the Cargill Mansion.

  The Cargill Mansion is a blue and white Victorian home, which had been renovated, and meticulously maintained. It was a beautiful home, but for whatever reason, hadn’t been able to hold an owner for more than a few years at a time. Most of the town said it was haunted, but if Jessie put a lot of stock into what the town said, she would have married Mr. Wrong a long time ago, so she would have somebody to help her with everything. Heaven's knows a single woman can't run a business on her own.

  Jessica’s friend Kathy had tried to talk Connor into trying Jessie’s goat cheese before he contracted with the dairy supplier from Tyler, but he had gone with price, not quality. Jessica’s business wasn’t yet at the place where she could compromise price too much. Now he was in a bind, he needed her cheeses, and she had already screwed up her chance at a contract with him, once. She had to make this right. She just had to.

 
; Jessica had never met Connor. Or at least, she thought she had never met him. Apparently, he had bought her a drink last night. And then, of course, she shot at him this morning. Shit. She was so screwed.

  Jessica pulled into the driveway, and parked, grabbing the thermal tote and putting a most conciliatory expression on her face before walking in the front door.

  “Oh no. I’m not going back there. You’re gonna have to fix this one, sister. He’s not speaking to anyone.” Kathy met her at the door.

  “Ok. Where do I go?” Jessica followed Kathy’s finger to a swinging door beyond another doorway. She took a (hopefully) fortifying breath, squared her shoulders, and purposefully strode toward the door.

  At the same moment she was fixing to push it inward, it came open at her, and Connor came barreling out, slamming into her, causing both of them to fall in a tangle of arms and legs on the ground.

  “What the hell!” Connor growled when he found himself in the horizontal position, much to his surprise. When he saw whom he was on top of, his face turned red, “Get out of my restaurant.” He struggled to extricate himself from her. Standing abruptly, he glared down at Jessica, “Leave. Now.” His voice was a barely contained fury. His eyes were an icy blue she hadn’t noticed last night at the bar, and they were captivating.

  Jessica couldn’t move, but she could gulp. “Please. I didn’t know who you were. I came to apologize.”

  His gaze lingered on her face, noticing how her lips trembled, with apparent shame, and then traveled down her body, seeing her breasts heaving against her tank top, down to her bared legs, under the hiked up skirt she had neglected to pull down after their tumble. Restraining the urge to smooth her hair behind her ear, he swallowed, thickly. “Well?”