19. Alex
19
Alex
Whatever Dara is cooking up in the kitchen smells delicious, which is exactly what Jack Norton says as he walks into the house, followed by three of his associates.
“Are you the cook?” the older man asks.
I shake my head vehemently. “Lord, no. My fiancée is a chef, Jack. I can’t compete with that.”
Jack’s eyes fly wide. “Is that right? So, we’re in for a treat this evening, then?”
“You have no idea. She trained under Dino Cabrini. One of the best chefs in the world.”
I can’t help myself. I’ve been privileged to enjoy some of the most delectable food I’ve tasted in years over these last few weeks. Dara is an artist, and even though I don’t know why she left Dino’s restaurant, I know she learned a lot from the man. Though from what I hear, she was already pretty talented in her own right.
Jack clearly isn’t familiar with the name, but by the impressed recognition on one of his colleague’s faces, it’s obvious that man is.
“You’ve heard of him then?” I say, moving my attention from Jack.
The man nods. “He’s an amazing chef. I’ve seen him on TV lots of times.”
This guy is in his mid-thirties and far too tightly wound. He’s the one carrying the black, leatherbound folder, so I’ve already figured him as the legal representative.
“And where is this lovely fiancée of yours?” Jack asks, now we’ve reached the living area.
I grin. “I’ll give you three guesses, Jack.”
Jack smiles back and nods knowingly.
“Please,” I gesture to the room, “make yourselves at home. I’ll go and check on things and see if Dara can spare a second to say hello without burning the kitchen down.”
I hear Jack chuckle as I head toward the kitchen. So far, so good, but the evening hasn’t really started yet.
I find Dara doing what Dara does best: multitasking with several different pots, three different cutting boards, and several different food groups all chopped, sliced, or diced.
“How’s it going?” I ask, as I move toward the island.
Her hair is piled on top of her head in some intricate, yet fetching, fashion, with several soft tendrils falling to frame her face. Instead of her chef’s whites, she’s wearing a short-sleeved, navy-blue dress that hugs her body in all the right places, currently covered by an apron so it doesn’t get ruined.
When she arrived earlier, she quite took my breath away. I wasn’t able to hide it either, which caused red cheeks all round.
When the initial awkwardness was over, I helped her bring the groceries into the kitchen, and eyeing the paper bags that lined the kitchen counters, I’d said, “Are you planning to cook for the entire town?”
“I was thinking about it,” she quipped back, “but then I remembered you didn’t have enough chairs.”
“Cute. Very cute.”
She grinned at me and said, “You deal with your end,” she nodded toward the living room, “and I’ll deal with mine.” She gestured to the bags of food.
The bags are now emptied, and whatever was in them is clearly making the delicious smell that is currently ruminating around the house.
“We’re starting with tomato and basil soup which is pretty much ready,” she says, pointing to a large pot on the stove. “I have some more prep to do for the Korean Chilli Chicken, and then dessert is Pavlova. I have the egg whites baked. I just have to assemble it for presentation.”
All this time, I haven’t taken my eyes off her, and I’m still gazing at her in amazement when she looks up at me.
“What?” she says, looking a little confused.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
She takes a deep breath and nods. “Fine. I think.”
I beam a smile, and she rewards me with a soft, if not nervous, one of her own.
“Can you spare a minute to come and meet everyone?”
She glances back at the stove and then nods. I wait for her to undo her apron, and then I hold out my hand. For a second, she looks at it and then gazes up at me. There’s something more in her expression, like an unasked question, but she doesn’t ask it. She then takes hold of my hand.
“Ready?” I say, looking down at her.
“Ready,” she says, trying to sound more confident than she clearly feels.
Once I introduce Dara, Jack warmly introduces his colleagues—Gabby, his accounts manager, Aaron, the tightly wound legal eagle, and Kevin, his number one in running the business.
After greetings all around, Dara says, “Dinner is ready, if you’d all like to make your way to the dining table.”
“Oh yes,” Jack says. “I hear we’re in for a treat. Alex tells me you’re a chef, Dara.”
Dara flicks a glance in my direction, and with a smile, she nods. “I am. Let’s hope my creations live up to the obvious hype.”
She looks at me again, but I just shrug. “I couldn’t help myself.”
Shaking her head but still smiling, she disappears into the kitchen.
“That’s a fine woman you have there, Alex,” Jack says, settling himself down beside his other colleagues.
“Yes, she is,” I say, pouring wine into everyone’s glasses. “I’m very lucky.”
And I feel it. I mean, really feel it. What were the chances that me moving to Riverdale would have connected me with Dara? I’m not one to believe in fate, but I have to admit, it’s like the stars aligned and brought us together.
And, of course, everything after that could be seen as divine providence, right? How could we have gotten to know each other so deeply any other way? And I think I speak for both of us when I say it hasn’t been a bad connection. At least, I hope. But that’s something for me to consider after this meeting.
With the soup served, Dara sits next to me. I made that happen on purpose, and not just for Jack’s benefit. The group converses, and it’s not all shop. I discover things about the company, but I also learn personal things about Jack and his colleagues—their likes, dislikes, principles, and what they hold dear. It’s eye opening.
When the soup is finished, Dara jumps up to collect the plates.
“Let me help you,” I offer, standing up beside her.
I half expect her to protest, but she doesn’t have enough hands, and her mind is likely on the main course.
Once in the kitchen, I leave the plates by the sink and say,” Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No,” she says, her mind already on the next course as she scurries between the hob and the island.
“Are you okay?” I ask. It’s an encompassing question, but I don’t think she gets that.
“I’m fine. Honestly. Go back to your guests.”
I can’t be back at the table ten minutes, when the kitchen door is elbowed open and Dara comes through with the next course. Seeing her struggle, I jump up and hold the door.
“Thanks,” she breathes, continuing to the table.
“This is some fine cooking, Dara,” Jack says, as the six of us silently enjoy the delicious spicy chicken.
“Thank you,” she replies.
“Alex tells us you trained under a famous chef,” the older man continues, glancing across at her.
“Dino Cabrini,” Aaron adds knowingly.
Dara nods. “I did, yes.”
There’s something in her tone that irks me a little. Like she’s not as proud of that fact as she should be, and I wonder if it has something to do with why she left. Suddenly, I regret mentioning Dino. Dara’s never spoken about him, and she was more than reticent to tell me what happened. I should have remembered that.
“Are you a fan of Korean food, Jack?” I ask, jumping in to try and change the subject.
“Can’t say that I was, until I ate this.” He beams at Dara. “But I have to say, you’ve opened my mind to try a whole new style of food.”
When the individual and rather extravagantly decorated pavlovas are served, there are gasps of delight and wide eyes.
“My goodness, Dara, I might not be able to get up from this table by the time I’ve finished this,” Gabby says.
Dara smiles and nods. “It’s a lot lighter than it looks. I promise.”
I slip my arm around her shoulder and gaze down at her. “You’ve done a tremendous job. Thank you, sweetheart.”
She looks up at me, and once more, our eyes lock. I’m looking at her now like she’s the only person in the room, and for a moment, that’s how it feels. Something comes over me, and I find my head lowering to hers. A second later, I’m planting a tender kiss on her mouth.
Dara doesn’t pull away. In fact, she kisses me back. When I do lift my head from hers, her pupils are wide, and I hear the lightest gasp leave her throat.
“You two make a fine couple,” Jack says.
His voice brings me out of the moment, and when I look over at him, Jack’s grinning from ear to ear. His colleagues seem to be nodding in agreement to his statement. But I’m struggling to find something to say because my body is reeling from that kiss. A kiss that felt so light, yet so full of meaning.
But our shared moment is over, and a little time after that, I invite them all into the living room while Dara cleans up. I feel guilty that she’s doing it all, but the whole point of Jack being here is for us to build bridges and make pathways toward a deal. Dara has played her part well. Now it’s time to play mine.
An hour and a half later, Jack and his colleagues stand to leave.
“Well, Alex,” Jack says, throwing a hand out to me. “It has been a pleasure. I think I’ve seen and heard everything I need to. If you’re agreeable, I think we can sit down in the very near future and work out a contract.”
Inside, I jump with glee, but outside, I remain calm and poised. Shaking the man’s hand, I smile amicably. “That’s great news, Jack.”
As I guide them to the front door, Dara appears just on cue, and slipping her arm around my waist, I wrap my arm around her shoulder.
“You’re a delightful couple,” Jack says as he steps out of the door. “I just know you’re going to have beautiful babies together.”
“Oh yes. I love children, and that’s definitely the plan,” I say, nearly stumbling to say something of substance. “Safe journey, and I’ll speak to you soon.”
We stand at the door, watching the group climb into their car.
“You love children, huh?” Dara says through her pinned smile, as they wave at us through the windows.
“Sure,” I say, continuing with my own smile. “I mean, I kind of already have one.”
I hear her gasp, and then I nearly shake myself. What the devil made me say that, I don’t know, but it’s out there now. I imagine when we go back inside, I’ll have no choice but to elaborate.