The Perfect Dish (24 page)

Shelby sighed. “Our mother is here.”

Mery put her feet back down and slid the chair under the desk so she could prop her elbows on the surface. “That’s not good. That’s not what you need right now.”

“She says she’s changed and wants to make things right. I want to believe her but it’s so hard, you know? I don’t know what to do.”

Poor girl. “Trust like that can’t be rebuilt in a few days, Shelby. Her actions have to follow her words. Don’t let her put the burden of renewing this relationship on you. That’s what she’s doing isn’t it? Telling you it’s your decision?”

“Yes. How did you know that? I’m so glad you answered the phone. What should I do?”

“Well, how much contact you want to have with her is up to you but keep in mind, you need to protect yourself, too. If you want her back in your life, you should let her in one tiny piece at a time. Start small. Run an errand together. Go to lunch. Get coffee and just sit and talk for an hour or so.”

“Okay, I can do that.” There was hesitancy in Shelby’s voice. “There’s one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“She wants Kelly’s number. She wants to talk to him, too.”

Mery exhaled slowly. “You need to talk to Kelly about that first. That has to be his decision.”

“You’re right. Don’t worry about giving him the message. I’m sure he’s got enough to handle tonight.”

Mery had a pretty good idea of what his answer on that would be. “Well, I better get back. Kelly’s waiting on me.”

“Have fun. Don’t tell him I called. I’ll talk to him tomorrow after I’ve sorted out what I’m going to do.”

“You got it.” Mery hung up and swiveled in the chair. Her foot connected with something metal. “Ow!”

She peeked under the desk. Apparently Kelly had been in such a rush to leave he hadn’t locked his safe either. She’d kicked the door with her foot and now it sat half open. Rubbing her toe, she wondered if she should shut it.

On the bottom shelf of the safe sat an old book. Looked like the one Kelly had been reading the day she’d filled in for Shelby. He said he’d been looking at recipes but he’d acted like she’d caught him doing something he shouldn’t.

Leave it alone. It’s none of your business.

The clock ticked as she stared at the book. “I should shut the safe and leave.”

Instead, she reached into the safe. It took both hands to lift the book out and onto his desk.

That was odd. The book was warm, like it had been sitting in the sun. Worn brown leather covered the outside and tarnished metal scrolls decorated the front corners. No title anywhere she could see.

She opened to the first page and read the fancy script out loud. “A Wyse Book of Cookery.” The yellowed paper was dark around the edges with age.

A cookbook. A really old cookbook. What kind of recipes had he been looking for? And why was it such a big secret?

The first recipe she came to made no sense. It was for Caudell, whatever that was.

She read the first line. “Take faire tryed yolkes of eyren...” What the heck were eyren? Sounded like old English. She flipped forward, reading bits and pieces of the recipes as she did. The further she got through the book, the more the recipes made sense.

Turning a large section of pages, she came to some blank pages. One by one, she went back through them until she came to the last two recipes in the book.

“Well, well, well. Will you look at that?”
Chocolate-covered pepita clusters.
Underneath the name was the word persuasion.

The recipe next to that one was for Chorizo-stuffed mushrooms, the very thing Kelly had been serving at the gallery. The word extravagance was written under that header.

A sudden coldness came over her as her brain made an eerie connection. She’d eaten the chocolates right before she’d agreed to meet Shelby in person. Tonight, right after eating one of the mushrooms, she’d thought about buying a painting. And a new chef coat for Kelly.

She flipped back a few pages. All the recipes had words underneath the titles.

Her stomach knotted. “What does this mean?” she whispered.

The pages of the book began to move on their own. She yanked her hands away and watched as the book settled open to a new recipe. Her gaze fixed on the word beneath the heading.

Understanding.

Her mouth watered like she might throw up. “Don’t jump to conclusions. There has to be a logical explanation. There was a probably a draft and the book just happened to open to that page.” And now she was talking to herself. Calm down. Think this through. Test the theory.

She took a deep breath. “I want a recipe for love.”

The pages moved again, this time almost to the beginning of the book. The recipe it stopped at had the word love written beneath it.

She shoved away from the desk. This was a book of spells. Black magic if there ever was such a thing. Kelly had used this book to manipulate her. He was doing the same thing to the people at the gallery to get them to buy. What kind of person had a book like this? Where had he even gotten it? No wonder he’d tried to hide it.

A hard chill shook her. Had she really wanted to sleep with him or was that the result of a spell too?

Anger crawled up her spine.

Her friends were at the gallery.

She grabbed her purse, stormed out of the office and slammed the door behind her.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Kelly.”

At Mery’s voice, he turned from the plate of hors d'oeuvres he was arranging in the small kitchen of Mick’s gallery. “Hey, there you are. I was starting to worry, you were gone longer than I—”

“We need to talk. Now.” Sparks flew from Mery’s eyes. Her hands fisted at her sides. Her empty hands.

“Where’s my coat?”

She kept quiet as a server passed them, the click of the girl’s heels on the hardwood like the tick of time passing. “I found the book.”

“What book?” But he knew. His jaw tightened.

Her eyes narrowed. “Your recipe book. Or should I say your book of spells?”

How had she... The bottom dropped out of his gut. “You what?” He knew he was speaking but the voice he heard sounded very far away. The edge of his vision darkened.

“I don’t understand it, but I know enough to know you manipulated me and you’re doing the same thing to all these people.” She jabbed her finger at him.

He shook his head. “I can explain—”

“Save it.” She tossed his keycard at him. “This...” she pointed between the two of them, “is over.”

The card clattered to the ground. “It’s not what you think.” She twisted away from him, headed toward the door. He caught her arm, not ready to end the conversation. “That book was in my safe with my personal things. That was none of your business.”

“Sleeping with you makes it my business.” Her mouth returned to a thin, tight line. She yanked her arm out of his grasp. “And that business just went bust.”

He followed her as she stalked out of the back room and into the gallery. “Mery, you don’t understand.” He kept his voice low and, he hoped, his anger out of it.

“I don’t need to understand,” she spat back. “But your sister might when you tell her I won’t be counseling her anymore.”

Heads turned in their direction. Kelly offered a few smiles as he followed Mery. She approached her friends who were chatting with Mick. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to let you know I’m leaving.

“I don’t understand.” Standing beside Mick, Celia shook her head. “You just got back.”

Mery glanced at Kelly, her expression deadly. “I’m not feeling well. Good night.” She paused. “I would suggest you put careful thought into making any purchases this evening. Things are not what they seem.” With a slight nod, Mery headed for the door.

Kelly looked at the small group to see the three of them staring back questioningly. “I didn’t do anything,” he said before taking off after her, but he’d done plenty. This was exactly the kind of thing Shelby had warned him about.

Out on the street, Mery was already hailing a cab.

“I deserve a chance to explain.”

“You don’t deserve anything. Especially not me.” She kept her eyes on the approaching taxi.

“Yes, I do. I care for you, Mery.” He was shocked by the truth of his own words. He did care for her. Deeply. “People who care for one other don’t treat each other this way. It just isn’t proper.”

“What would you know about how to treat people?” Rolling her eyes, she pulled the car door open before the vehicle came to a complete stop. Thunder rumbled overhead. “Save the Southern gentleman crap for one of your bleached bimbos. It’s not going to work on me anymore.”

She was in the cab and closing the door. He grabbed the edge, preventing her from leaving. “I understand you’re mad. I’ll call you tomorrow and we’ll talk when you’ve cooled off.”

“Get it through your thick Texas skull. We’re done. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

Stunned, he let go. She slammed the door. The cab took off into traffic as the first raindrops pelted his face.

* * *

Mery refused to open her eyes until the phone stopped ringing. When it did, she checked the clock on her nightstand. Six fifteen. He’d called twice in the last ten minutes. Did Kelly actually think he was going to persuade her to listen when she wasn’t even awake?

Weak gray light filtered through the sheers in her bedroom. Looked like it was still raining. Perfect. That fit her mood exactly.

She rolled over in bed and thought about last night. Her anger had dissipated a little but there was still plenty left. When she was ready, she’d listen to his explanation, but it wasn’t going to change her mind.

He’d lost her trust. Made her feel used. Like a fool. Dating a younger man, even if it had been just a fling for the sake of her career, had been a horrid idea. She would never let anyone or anything sway her into doing something so foolish again.

There would be no second chance for the black magic cowboy.

Two minutes later the phone rang again. She snatched the receiver. “Stop calling, will you? I’m not ready to talk.”

“Mery, it’s Celia.”

“Oh. Sorry, I thought you were—”

“Kelly was in a motorcycle accident last night. He’s in the hospital right now.”

“What?” She sat up. Her heart jumped in her chest. “Where? How do you know this? How is he? Is he—”

“I don’t know his condition. The paper didn’t say, which is how I found out. But I called around. He’s at Mount Sinai. I also recommend you not buy the paper.”

“Why? Just tell me. I’m already in a bad mood, you can’t make it worse.”

Celia sighed, long and slow. “They’re calling you the Black Widow.”

Mery’s face got hot. She was either going to cry or combust. A small whimper escaped her lips.

“I knew I shouldn’t have told you.” Celia sighed again. “His sister is still in Texas, isn’t she? I don’t know what happened between you two last night but you should really go see him, Meredith.”

“Yes, Shelby’s in Texas.” Mery whispered. “I really don’t think it would be appropriate—”

“Visiting hours start at 11 A.M.”

“I don’t want to have this conversation,” she said.

“Just think about it.” Celia disconnected.

Mery sat there with the phone in her lap. Kelly was hurt, no telling how badly. The last thing she’d said was that she never wanted to see him again.

That wasn’t true. Despite the hurt and anger she felt over finding the book and its implications, she did want to see him again.

But not in the hospital. She hated hospitals. Garrett had wasted away in one. The drunk driver who’d hit Michael’s car had been resuscitated in an emergency room. The same emergency room Michael had died in moments later.

Now Kelly was in one.

Maybe the paper was right. Maybe she was a black widow. She’d felt that way about herself for a long time. Jinxed. Cursed. Whatever you wanted to call it. She was a death sentence for the men she loved.

She shook her head. No. She didn’t love Kelly. She’d started to care about him but that had ended last night. Except that didn’t explain why her heart ached at the thought of him alone in that hospital room.

“I’m not going to see him. I’m not.” The phone beeped in her clenched hand. “
If you’d like to make a call, please hang up and—”
She smacked the receiver into its cradle, flopped down and tugged the covers up to her chin. A rush of wind brought a sheet of rain against her window.

“He manipulated me.” To help his sister. That didn’t balance the scale.

People who cared for one other didn’t treat each other this way. His words echoed in her head. He cared about her. Not quite the admission of a mastermind manipulator. Or was it? What did she really know about him anyway?

Kelly was sweet, charming, a great cook, a gentleman, an amazing lover and had probably sold his soul to the devil for a black magic cookbook.

Exhaling slowly, she rubbed her eyes. Even the soulless shouldn’t have to suffer alone.

She got to the hospital at 9 A.M. and quickly found out which room he was in. She took the elevator to his floor and was immediately stopped by a heavy-set nurse whose attitude was as sharp as her blinding white scrubs. “Visiting hours don’t start until 11 A.M. Wait in the lobby.”

Good thing she’d worn her black suit. She peered at the woman’s ID tag. “I’m aware of that Nurse Torres. I’m Dr. Black.” She slipped her old hospital ID out of her pocket and hoped the nurse didn’t notice her thumb covering the expiration date. She hadn’t used the ID since she’d stopped treating patients years ago. “I’m looking for a patient of mine, Kelly Spicer. He was admitted last night. Motorcycle accident. Perhaps you can help me?”

The woman narrowed her eyes, obviously considering what to do. “You’re a doctor?”

“Yes. Perhaps you’ve read one of my books?” No response. The nurse appeared to be a slow thinker. “Or seen me on Oprah?”

Dark brows shot up. “You were on Oprah? I thought you looked familiar. C’mon, I’ll take you back.” She shifted and started down the hall. “That boy is messed up, let me tell you. Lucky he was wearing a helmet.”

“Messed up?” Mery swallowed down her panic.

“Broken ankle, bruised ribs, numerous lacerations and multiple contusions.” The woman shook her head. “Motorcycles are so dangerous.”