The Perfect Ingredient (Dare Valley) (30 page)

“I have to go to New York next week,” he told her. “Some business has come up. I’ll just be gone for a couple days. I’d love for you to come with me if you can. That way you can see my place. Meet some of my friends.”
Get an idea what his life was there.
He left that unsaid.

When he glanced over, the hand holding her clutch purse was clenched, her knuckles white.

“Is that too much too soon?” he asked, deciding to be direct and trying to keep any disappointment out of his voice. “I’m new at this whole being together thing, so I’m going to make some mistakes.”

She cleared her throat. “No, it’s okay. I just…didn’t expect you to have to go to New York so soon. Who are you meeting with?”

Her body language told him there was more going on. Was she afraid he was going to party hard when he returned?

“You can trust me, Elizabeth. I know I run with a rough crowd, but I love you.” Shit, he was sounding like some metrosexual, but he wanted to be honest with her, tell her how he felt. Even when it made him feel weird.

“I love you too, and I trust you.”

He watched her relax her hand after she said that. “Good. Thank you. So would you want to come with me?”

She gazed out the window and not at him. “I’m not sure I can make it. I’m a little behind on my work for Rhett with…everything that’s happened. But tell me more about who you’re meeting. Did something happen business wise to prompt this trip?”

He wanted to persuade her, but he forced himself to hold back. “My agent thought I should have an in-person meeting with Lane about the TV show after the whole Twitter thing. My probation is up next month, you know.” He’d been hoping Elizabeth would be there so she could show Lane she was more than just Vixen, but he didn’t know how to phrase that. She might think he was using her, and that wasn’t what he wanted.

“That sounds like a wise move,” she commented, still not looking at him.

“I’m also going to meet up with my banker and talk about the new line of products Mac and I have planned for his hotel chain.” After significant discussions, they both felt they had enough sketched out to seek financing.

Her fingers clenched the clutch again. “You and Mac are going to ask your banker to finance it?”

He’d told her about their plans, of course, but he hadn’t mentioned the money side. “Yeah. Mac has his own banker, but I really like what my backer has done for me. I told Mac to let me approach them first to see if they would be interested. Like a right of first refusal of sorts.”

“I see.”

There was something in her voice, something not right, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure it out.

“What’s the matter? I can tell you’re upset, and I don’t know why. We’ve been really attuned to each other lately, but this time I’m at a loss. I can’t read your mind if you won’t talk to me. It’s just a business trip, which I thought might be fun for you. I want you to meet my friends—like we’re doing tonight—see my place. Sleep in my bed.”

Her hand squeezed the purse again, and he fought the urge to pull over on the side of the road. To get out and make her talk to him as the sun set around them.

“You make it sound like New York is still your home,” she finally said.

Ah.
Now he was starting to see things. “Dare Valley is my home away from home right now. I like working here and am excited to work with Mac to build his restaurants into award-winning places. But yes, I have a TV show in New York if Lane stops being a jerk and lets it go through after this two-month probation crap. I’ll have to fly back and forth to shoot it.”

More silence.

“I’ve lived in New York my whole life, and I love it there. I’m not saying I’m leaving Dare, okay?” He blew out a breath. “I want you in my life, so we’ll have to talk about what this means for us if I decide not to stay here forever. You’ve probably wondered about whether I’m planning on moving to Mac’s new Vegas hotel when it’s finished, and to be honest, we’ve talked about it. I didn’t bring it up with you before because everything was so new between us.”

“Vegas would be a good venue for you,” she finally said, and was that fatalism he detected in her tone now?

“I know your job is important. I’m not asking you to give anything up. But I don’t plan on losing you either. We’ll make it work no matter what happens.”

Was that the right answer? Hell, didn’t a woman want a man to say that sort of thing? He was so out of his element.

“I want you in my life too. The…enormity of things hadn’t hit me until now.”

Yeah, the possibility of staying in Dare Valley forever with her hadn’t dawned on him either. He’d always seen the small town as another launching point. Sure, Rhett was making a home here, but did that mean Elizabeth wanted to live here forever too? Well, they didn’t have a crystal ball right now, so there was no point in guessing the future.

He loved her.

She loved him.

That’s all that mattered.

“Okay, then. Let’s keep talking about this. I’ve found a way to make this new job work in little ol’ Dare Valley while still pursuing part of my career in New York. We’ll find a way to make our relationship work too as our careers keep growing and changing.” If he knew one thing about life, it was not static.

“We’ll take it as it comes,” she breathed out, and again her hands relaxed on her purse. “Tell me more about the franchising. I had a special interest in that area at Harvard. Maybe I can help you figure out some other options.”

While he’d already scoured the New York banking industry to find the best bank, he didn’t want to shut her down if she wanted to share her ideas.

“Well, I have the best investment bank in New York backing my efforts. Harwick & Taylor. Do you know of it?”

“Yes.” Her voice was soft. “They have an esteemed reputation.”

“Yes. So, here’s what Mac and I are thinking,” he said, hoping he would impress her a little with his business sense. He gave her a condensed version since they were nearing Jane’s house. “I can give you more details after dinner.”

“That sounds good,” she said, but her voice still sounded remote. “I can do some research for you too.”

“Elizabeth, you don’t need to do work for me,” he said in exasperation. “I have plenty of people doing that.”

She turned her head quickly to glance at him—the first time since they’d started this conversation—and he read the fear and vulnerability in her eyes. Crap. He wasn’t doing anything right.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant you have your own work, and I don’t want to add to it. There are people I pay to do this sort of thing.”

Her hands were clutched around that damn purse again.

“Of course. Oh, look, there’s some deer.”

He could give a flying f—caught himself there—about deer. She was changing the subject. When he finally pulled his rig in next to Rhett’s SUV, he laid his hand on hers.

“I don’t know what I’ve done, but I know you’re upset.”

She laid her head on his shoulder for a moment, and his heart settled a bit. She wasn’t pulling away. The relief was tremendous.

“It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. Let’s head inside.”

Her door swung open before he could come around, and he fought his frustration. Something had changed between them, and he didn’t like her sugarcoating it.

Matt opened the front door and came out onto the porch, Henry by his side. “Come on in. Rhett’s making mint juleps with Jane.”

Elizabeth kissed his cheek as they reached him, and Jane’s fiancé hugged her a moment after giving her a look Terrance didn’t understand. There was an undercurrent here. What in the hell?

Matt shook his hand and then led them into the kitchen.

Sure enough, Rhett was at it. He was moving his hips in a circle as he muddled the mint. Abbie and Jane were clutching their stomachs, doubled over in laughter.

“I see you’re using your new Latin moves to make a mint julep,” Terrance said as he approached the kitchen island, hoping to lighten the tension corded inside his gut. “Promise me you won’t thrust your hips at my drink like that.”

“You can use your own moves on your own drink, bubba,” Rhett said with a wink.

“Okay,
bubba,
step back and let me show you how a real man muddles,” Terrance joked, rolling up the sleeves of his jacket. “Hey, Jane. Hey, Abbie.” And he kissed them both on the cheek as he passed them.

Elizabeth made the rounds as well, and it was good to see her shake off whatever that crap was in the car. He was going to have to pry it out of her later.

He and Rhett got into a muddling competition, of which Jane declared him the winner. Rhett claimed to have won in the Latin dance category, and Terrance was happy to give him that concession.

The dogs were told to stay in the family room, and while Henry looked like he was going to disobey, one stern look from Jane had him plopping his butt on the ground. It was still astonishing to see her transformation from Raven to a stone-cold poker player who could beat even Mac Maven and make ninety pound dogs do her bidding.

“I heard from Mac that you’re rolling out the new menu at The Grand, Terrance,” Jane said as she served them a wine-glazed leg of lamb, garlic mashed potatoes, and white asparagus—the latter a nice touch, he thought. “Matt and I will have to try it out. And since it has to be said, Terrance, I know you can cook much better than this, but I hope you enjoy it.”

It was hardly the first time he’d heard this line. Few people had the guts to cook for a chef. Yet even when they did, most felt the need to throw in some caveat. He could only reply as graciously as possible to reassure her.

“Jane. Please don’t apologize for your food. I’m honored to be a guest in your home, and I know I’ll enjoy what you’ve made. Thank you for cooking for me. It doesn’t happen very often.”

Her smile was soft, and Matt nodded his approval at the politic answer.

“He’s right about the cooking part,” Elizabeth said. “I’d be afraid to even scramble an egg for him.”

So Elizabeth was afraid to cook for him? “What am I, the Culinary Ogre?” he asked and made a monster face.

Everyone laughed.

“I’d stick with The Tattooed Chef, man,” Rhett told him, serving himself a mountain of mashed potatoes. “Little kids would run in the other direction if you made that face at them.”

“Well, you do have a rep for yelling at people in the kitchen on your show,” Elizabeth said.

True. But not on his new show. He was moving past that image. “It’s never personal. Plus, it was good for ratings.”

Even he’d been astonished by how far he could push things on air. The more shade he threw, the higher their ratings had been. Now it was time to strike a new balance on primetime.

“You should make him your Beef Wellington, Elizabeth,” Jane said. “It’s wonderful.”

“I’ll second that,” Matt replied, lifting his glass. “To good friends.”

“To good friends,” they all echoed and tapped their glasses together.

The burgundy wine was velvety smooth, had a long finish, and was redolent with the flavor of black cherries and loamy soil followed by rose. “The wine is excellent, Jane.”

“Thanks, Terrance. Domaine Romanée Conti never disappoints.”

“Jane has finally persuaded me that beer can’t stand up to wine,” Matt said with a laugh. “We’ve gone head to head, and I keep losing.”

“Now, that’s just tragic,” Rhett drawled. “Beer is the national drink of this fine country.”

A lively discussion ensued on that topic, and as Terrance gave his two cents on the matter, he reached under the table to gently rest his hand Elizabeth’s thigh. When she glanced over at him with a smile, he felt something turn over in his chest.

Whatever had happened in the car was behind her now, and he was happy to relax into this sensation of having dinner and conversation with old and new friends, Elizabeth by his side.

When Jane brought out dessert, a multi-layered chocolate dacquoise, she announced, “I was fresh out of ideas, so I decided to ask Brian to make something for us. I hope you enjoy this baby. It’s one of my faves from Brasserie Dare.”

The meringue had the perfect crunch, and the crushed hazelnuts he detected in the chocolate ganache added an extra texture he appreciated. “Marvelous, Jane. I really enjoyed my meal at Brasserie Dare. Brian’s a talented chef.”

Abbie’s eyelashes fluttered as she took a bite. “Jill says she has the best life in the world. She gets to eat your food during the day, Terrance, and Brian’s for breakfast and dinner. I have to agree with her. Of course she also says she has to keep coming to your dance classes, Elizabeth, so she won’t weigh a ton.”

“Do you want me to take a cooking class, sugar?” Rhett asked, rubbing some chocolate off the corner of her mouth.

“Stop that,” she said, slapping his hands away. “If you take a class, please bring Dustin along. I swear, Rhett and Dustin would starve if I didn’t feed them.”

Rhett kicked back, wiping up the crumbs on his plate with his index finger—something only he could pull off at a fancy dinner party. “No, we’d eat out all the time or only eat hog dogs and hamburgers. And steak. I can cook a mean steak.”

“I stand corrected,” Abbie said. “They would have plenty of meat.”

“So, T, how’s your cooking show coming along? Maybe if Dustin and I watch it we’ll become better cooks. What do you think of that, Abbie?”

“I think it’s a brilliant idea. Has that unpleasant man decided to give the go-ahead?”

Terrance wasn’t surprised Rhett had shared that tidbit with Abbie—he’d griped about Lance to all of his friends—and he wasn’t worried they would speak out of turn. “I’m going to New York next week to meet with the network guy to see if we can move things forward.” Best scenario. He could charm that jerk into canceling his probation period. Worst case. He’d finish it without a blip. Either way, he
was
going to have his show.

Jane tensed and shared a look with Elizabeth, who stilled beside him again like she had in the car. His frustration returned. What in the hell was wrong with him going to New York?

“You and Mac are franchising some new products for his hotel chain, right?” Rhett said. “Mac’s tickled pink about it, showing me the kinds of products you two have in mind. I suggested bread and butter pickles, but he vetoed that. I guess you’re going to talk to your fancy banker man in New York.”