17. Henley
Henley
I’m loving every second of working with Harper. Being in the kitchen again reminds me why I love creating edible pieces of art for others to enjoy. Cooking became my love language from the very first moment I made someone smile from tasting my food.
In New York, I rarely got to see the reactions of guests.
My place was behind the scenes, cooking and prepping components of the dishes.
Once Sadie made me sous chef, she gave me more of the admin, training, and supervision roles.
Unlike most sous chefs, I didn’t get a chance to be a part of the creative development of the menus.
Sadie always remained in control of that.
Though I loved being in the kitchen, the past couple of years had turned more into a robotic routine.
The feeling that cooking had once given me had started to lose its sparkle.
Each day felt a little more restrained, and I found myself shoving my creativity down and trying to shape myself more like my boss, Sadie.
I had looked up to her for so long, but I’ve come to realize that she isn’t the chef that I want to model myself after any longer.
Now that I’m home, I can feel my creativity stirring within me.
Igniting my soul once more and reminding me why I fell in love with cooking and baking in the first place.
Being here with Harper, I feel a little bit of my shine returning.
When I got in this morning, she put me in charge of the pastries for tomorrow.
The buzz of excitement only grew further when I asked her what she wanted me to make and she said, “Surprise me.” I couldn’t tie the apron around me fast enough.
I ended up making a variety of different pastries with the different doughs I’d helped her prep yesterday.
With the croissant dough, I made a pistachio and hazelnut Bavarian cream to fill the insides.
Using the fresh strawberries delivered from the Donaldson's farm yesterday, I created a strawberry rhubarb tart.
For something a little less sweet, I whipped up a vanilla custard to make a crème br?lée danish.
To finish off my creations, I decided to add a twist to the cinnamon rolls by creating a vanilla bourbon icing to glaze over the top.
“Well, I’ve decided that I no longer need a man.
Nope, I’m entirely content with filling my mouth with these instead for the rest of my days.
Tastes better and a lot less work.” Harper hums, licking the icing off one of the vanilla bourbon rolls we took upstairs to eat while we got ready for tonight.
Rolling my eyes, I swipe the roll out of her hands and take a bite.
“Oh, come on, you know it’s true!” Her brows wiggle suggestively.
With a snort, I hand her back the roll and continue pulling on my tan cowboy boots. Tonight calls for something a little more country than Converse.
“Are you sure this dress isn’t too short?
” My fingers curl around the hem of the skirt, giving it a firm tug in hopes it’ll get a little longer.
Harper forced me to wear one of her dresses.
It’s a white strapless dress that flows out at the waist. Blue and green flowers decorate the cotton fabric, looking as though they’d been watercolored directly on it.
Truly, it’s stunning. Just meant for Harper’s smaller stature.
Carson would have scolded me for how short the hem of my dress was. Anytime the hem of my clothes went higher than mid-thigh, he’d take it and donate it. The excuse was always something about how it wasn’t proper or demure.
As I fidget in front of Harper's mirror, I can’t shake the feeling like I’m doing something wrong.
“Girl, you look freaking gorgeous. Stop fidgeting!” She grumbles in between bites, slapping my hands away from fidgeting with the dress. “Not my fault you were blessed with the legs of a giraffe, and me with short, squat bird legs.”
Laughter spreads between us as she tugs me to the edge of her bed to finish putting liner on my eyes. After she finishes, I shoot off a text to Em telling him that we are about to head out.
Adjusting the straps of her teal dress, Harper peers over my shoulder and raises a brow.
“Things must be going a little better between you two, hmm? Moved out onto his land, now you’re inviting him to girls’ night.
” She hums, tapping a finger against the side of her cheek.
“Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me? ”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. He needs help and I need a bed.” I shrug nonchalantly, knowing deep down inside there is absolutely something beginning to brew again between us.
“You need a bed for sure . . . an Emerson-shaped one.”
“That’s not true!” I gasp, mouth gaping wide.
“Uh-huh. Just keep telling yourself that, bestie.” She slips on a pair of white ankle boots. The gentle chime of my phone makes my heartbeat pick up pace.
EM: We’ll head over in just a little bit.
ME: We?
The dots roll back and forth as I hold my breath. He wouldn’t bring a date with him, would he?
EM: I’m waiting on your brother. He’s just taken a shower, then we’ll ride over together.
I release my breath and send a thumbs up emoji back before tossing my phone beside me.
“Em’s coming and he’s bringing Ryleigh along,” I say.
A crash and a few curses fly out of the bathroom.
“Are you okay in there?” I chuckle as she comes rushing out, her face flushed.
“Ryleigh’s coming?” she breathes.
“Yeah.” The word rolls out slowly from my lips, my curiosity growing. “Is that not okay?”
“Oh, it’s super! Fantastic! Always love seeing your bro,” she shrieks out a bit frantically. “Do I look okay?”
I watch my normally self-confident bestie fidget with her dress and hair. That’s when it hits me. My best friend is crushing on my brother. The real question is, for how long? Smiling inwardly, I decide to circle back to this when she’s ready to tell me herself. “You look incredible.”
Her body visibly relaxes as she stands a little taller in her boots.
“Let’s get this party started.” I grin. “It’s been too damn long since I’ve had a shot of tequila, so let’s live it up!”
“Yes, girl!” Harper grabs her purse, and we dance out the door all the way to the car.
Rusty’s is packed tonight. The energy strums through the crowd, bodies swaying back and forth to the country music blaring from the speakers. The house lights are dimmed, and the stage lights create a kaleidoscope of colors throughout the space.
We spot Melody behind the bar, pouring beers.
She catches our stares and squeals with joy, practically leaping over the bar to us.
She collides into me with such a force it nearly takes the air out of me.
Pieces of her messy dark brunette bun tickle my neck before she pulls back.
She leaps into Harper’s arms next , and they both toss their heads back in laughter.
I love these girls.
Melody is wearing a strapless black top underneath her trademark overalls. Vibrant, watercolored ink flows over both her arms and shoulders. Flowers, ocean life, quotes, and lyrics are woven into each tattoo. I’ve always admired how she uses her skin as another canvas for her amazing art.
Harper and I met Mel by complete chance one day.
We were looking for a fun night out and saw an ad that the local gallery downtown was hosting wine and paint nights.
Melody Heart was our teacher that night, and the three of us became fast friends.
She’s not only an incredibly talented artist but the woman has a heart of gold.
She beams up at us, amber eyes glowing with delight. “Babes! I’m so glad the three amigas are back together again!”
Harper and I giggle at the nickname we gave to ourselves after a crazy karaoke night.
One full of two bottles of tequila, sombreros, and more than one badass performance.
She takes our hands and guides us back to the bar, pushing off two college boys from their stools so we can take a seat.
“Sit tight, I’m off in five, and then we can really get this party started! ”
Mel bounces back behind the bar, quickly pouring three shots of tequila and sliding across the limes. We raise the glasses and toast, tossing them back in one go. With a wink, she makes us two more each, then goes back to finish up her shift.
After two more shots and a margarita, Melody is finally off. We make a trail through the crowd of people to a booth in the back. One of Mel’s co-workers follows behind us with a tray of glasses and a bottle of cinnamon whiskey. A welcome back to Oakley Falls present from the girls.
We catch up on our lives, picking up our friendship like no time at all has passed between us since I’ve been away. The way it comes back so easily warms my heart. It makes me realize how truly lonely I’ve been all these years in New York.
My phone vibrates on the table, and I flip it over to find a text waiting for me.
EM: We’re here. Where are you?
Heat simmers within me, and I feel a little lightheaded. Unsure whether it’s from the alcohol warming its way through my system or the burn of tension created by the man who has walked his way back into my life when I least expected it. Did I make the right choice by inviting him here tonight?
The phone vibrates within my palm once more.
EM: Found you.
Swallowing down my nerves, I tilt my head up and am met with a pair of stunning blue eyes from across the room. It’s almost as if time slows down around us as he makes his way through the crowd of people.
The black jeans he’s wearing highlight every inch of his thick thighs. His dark green T-shirt molds perfectly against his chest and adds one more reason for me to fall in love with the color. But it’s the backward black hat that sends me over the edge. Sweet Jesus.
As he prowls closer, my body trembles under his heated gaze. Mel slides out of the booth to give Ryleigh a hug and introduce herself to Emerson. Lured in by his smile, I slide out as well, hugging my brother then turning to do the same to Em.