2. Connect #2
Under the spring breeze floating into the echoey ballroom, Zoe inhaled the familiar scent of Halseth’s finest offerings. Aside from a few guests filtering in, the ballroom was… empty.
She folded her hands across her chest and squeezed, her jaw tightening and heels digging into the floor to keep her from starting the hunt.
Finally, someone came out from the short hallway to the kitchen.
Tara, one of the regular servers from Halseth’s, was decked out in a standard uniform of a black t-shirt with the Halseth’s Smokehouse and Pub logo on front, her name on the back in jersey style lettering, and instead of the jeans she’d normally wear at the pub, she was in a rare black denim skirt for the dressier occasion.
Typically not caterers, her family’s pub specialized in a casual atmosphere, with top-notch smoked meats and cheeses anchoring their menu, and tonight, they’d closed to bring all hands on deck for the wedding, plus a handful hired specifically for the event.
“They’ve got it,” Evan said as he moved in behind her.
Another server headed out with a tray of appetizers.
“I don’t see the prosciutto-wrapped peaches.” She scanned the trays coming out, suspicion tickling the back of her neck.
“Mick is here. He can handle it—”
“I know that,” Zoe said, itching all over until her feet moved on their own toward the kitchen.
Evan kept pace and linked his arm in hers. “—and if you march in there with even a flash of impatience, he’ll think you don’t have faith in him.”
Her lips pursed out and cheeks scrunched as she calculated. “There’s no one else I trust to run the kitchen, so yeah, he can handle it, but… I want everything to be perfect. I just want to make sure nothing went wrong—”
“It’s not going to be perfect because nothing is, nor should it be, so get over that right now.”
“But…” She huffed an exhale and her eyes burned again.
“Mom would agree,” he said sharply, this time hooking his hand over her arm to slow her. “Come on, Zoe. If she was here, and something got messed up, sweet instead of savory brie on the smoked salmon, or the batch of green chiles was unseasonably spicy? Would she be upset, or would she laugh?”
“She’d do that goofy laugh where she threw her head back and grabbed Pops on the shoulder so she didn’t tip over,” Zoe said, the moment instantly lighter.
Not only were her mother’s shoes massive to fill, when Zoe had moved in to take over the kitchen when her mom was too weak from breast cancer to work, Zoe learned just how amazingly calm her mother had been when shit hit the fan.
“And Pops will say shit happens, lesson learned. Something clichéd but sweet.”
“Exactly. So let it go,” he said. A moment later, another server came out, and their tray had all three bite-sized appetizers displayed and temptingly munchable, as planned. “See?”
She nodded and stopped outside the kitchen. “I still want to go check in with—”
He opened his mouth and paused to let her finish her thought.
“Just to let him know I appreciate everything and lay a few compliments on the chef.”
“Okay,” he said, releasing her and nodding back to the crowd that finally seemed to be settling. “If you’re not out in five minutes, I’m coming to drag you out.”
She rolled her eyes and waved him off. “Go. Have fun.”
Zoe could walk into this kitchen a hundred times and still feel blown away.
She’d only been here a few times, mostly over the last week, to make sure she was prepared.
Halseth’s was not a catering business, and she hadn’t done any catering since a miserable odd job a few years ago.
It had probably been overkill, to plan so meticulously.
Either way, cooking in this kitchen wasn’t exactly a burden.
It was nearly double the size of her kitchen at the pub, and would probably fit the entire two-bedroom rental house that she shared with Evan.
Expansive countertops were neatly organized with final preparations for dinner.
The carnitas smelled amazing, simmering and ready for the taco bar, and Zoe meandered toward the ovens and her precious roasted seasonal veggies, ready to be drizzled in the waiting spicy garlic cashew sauce. Inside, it was already sizzling.
“Don’t do it,” Mick said as he snuck up behind her.
“I’m just enjoying the fruits of our labor,” she said innocently, quickly turning and bracing her hands behind her back. The movement shifted down the pinchy, oversized and overly boosty strapless bra, and she shifted her arms to fold over her chest and discreetly scooch it up again.
“Okay,” he said, his thick black lashes interlacing as he squinted at her. “You know, I like, do this for a living,” he teased. “I ran a catering business before moving to Foothills.”
Zoe lightly punched her newest employee in the arm and shook her head. “And you’re the best. I don’t know what I would ever do without you.” She eyed the guacamole and her mouth instantly watered. “Seriously. If this goes well…”
“No… maybe,” Mick said, snorting a laugh and shaking his head at her.
He folded his arms over his pristine apron and fluttered a smiling eyeroll.
“ If we do a few more successful trial runs like this, and Smithers finally retires the photography studio and we get the go ahead to take over some of his space…”
“Then you’ll get a big fat raise as the head of catering?” Zoe said, lifting an enticing grin and raising to her tiptoes to lift her encouragement even higher.
His eyebrows lifted up and down and he smirked arrogantly sweetly.
“Let’s get through the next few hours first.” In another life, she’d totally have a crush on him, but he was a loving father of two and married to a woman Zoe happened to adore.
And he was ten years older than her. But still. Charming and gorgeous.
“It’s a deal.” Zoe glanced meaningfully at the hallway to the ballroom and whispered, “It’ll be great, as long as the lady of the house doesn’t terrify all our staff into abandoning ship tonight.”
He snorted a laugh and popped his knuckles. “I already kicked her out once,” he whispered deviously and flashed her a wink.
“I’ll see if Grady can help rein in his mother.” Zoe hooked a one-sided grin and knocked him in the arm again. “Anyway. Evan threatened to extricate me from the kitchen if I take too long, so I’d better get back out there.”
“Go. Have fun. Relax. Behave like a guest.”
She smiled as she brushed around him and aimed for the doorway to the ballroom. Ballroom. Ha. She still couldn’t believe her brother married someone whose mother owned a house big enough for a ballroom. Thank fucking goodness Haley wasn’t the pretentious snob her mother was.
Speak of the devil. Wow. Yeah. Probably the closest that idiom had ever come to mirroring reality. But, okay, Haley promised her mother was doing therapy and yoga and Tai Chi and everything she could to learn to cherish the moment and practice gratitude.
“Zoe. Everything is truly incredible,” Patricia said as she blocked the doorway, two frothy brews in her hands, completely blocking the exit. Shit.
“Thanks,” Zoe said brightly, smiling wide and practicing a little of that gratitude herself…
because Patricia wasn’t disappointed, as she typically hired very expensive caterers for her parties.
Pardon— galas , and probably events and even fêtes.
Well, if those all meant party. Zoe wasn’t actually sure, but she knew the winter gala was a major annual thing here. “Haley is absolutely stunning.”
“Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky as to have three such attractive but truly grounded children.”
Grounded might not be the right term for all of them. Sexy as Ryder was, from everything she’d heard, he was a slick marketing consultant and as relaxed as his stick-in-the-mud mother.
With a flip of her stiff silver hair, Patricia smiled and extended one of the beers to Zoe. “You know, I never cared for champagne anyway. I have no taste for sweetness.”
Okay. Zoe took the glass, her fingers instantly cold. Had the woman chilled the glass below freezing with her icy demeanor? Because Zoe was pretty sure they weren’t serving the beer in frosty glasses.
Although, Patricia was oddly warm and kind at the moment… huh. “Thank you,” Zoe said, hoping surprise didn’t leak into her tone.
Patricia lifted her glass and lifted the corners of her lips into a smooth smile. “We are family now, and I am so pleased that we’ll be seeing so much of each other. To a bright future?”
Speechless and, frankly, confused as hell, Zoe lifted her glass and nodded agreeably.
They both drank, and Zoe watched the woman over the rim of her glass. For an uptight toothpick, Patricia could put it away. She tipped her head back and had half the pint drained in a single gulp. Zoe couldn’t match half of that—although, she was a good three inches shorter, but still.
Patricia lifted her hand and awkwardly patted Zoe on the opposite shoulder, as if trying to put her arm around her but not understanding the nuances of the gesture.
And Zoe suddenly felt really, really bad.
The woman might actually have something.
Interpersonal relationships were so unnatural for her… she might truly not know.
Guilt rippling through her, Zoe led Patricia out of the kitchen—before the woman strolled back in and disrupted Mick’s flow. “I am in awe of your home. Everything is so beautiful tonight.”