Caught Bread Handed (17 page)

He gave a subtle nod to the end of the table where Rosalind was seated. “Let's start with Ashland's grandame. What have you heard?”

I checked to make sure that Rosalind wasn't looking our way. She wasn't. She too had fallen under Carlos's spell. “I heard that she and Mindy got into a fight. What do you know?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“But you made it sound like you had inside info to share.”

“I might.”

“Lance, stop with the games. Do you know something or not?”

“Not, but I have a plan, darling.” The light from the votive candles reflected off of Lance's silver tie.

“A plan?”

“It involves you.”

“Great.” I couldn't keep the sarcasm from my voice.

“Come on, play along. It'll be fun.”

“What are you thinking?”

“How are your acting chops? I know it's been a while since you've graced the stage.”

“Wait. I'm not getting on any stage and you're not roping me into any show.”

Lance made an exasperated sound with his lips. “You're no fun tonight, Juliet. I'm not talking about
my stage
. I'm talking about a little performance right here, tonight.”

My feet were starting to tingle. I shifted position. “Just tell me what you're thinking. I have to get back there and help Sterling.”

He leaned closer and whispered, “I have a perfect plan to cozy up to our matronly suspect down there. When you come back out drop something in my lap. I'll play it up. You'll have to reseat me because—obviously—I can't ruin this look with food in my lap.” He ran his hands over his pink shirt. “Then you can shift things around and put me next to Rosalind. If you get me next to her I guarantee I'll get her talking. Especially because she appeared to be absolutely charmed by your husband and his sexy Spanish wines. Keep the wine flowing and I'll work my magic.”

I hated to admit it, but it was a pretty good plan. I agreed and returned to the kitchen.

“The shrimp are ready to go,” Sterling said, handing me a platter of shrimp. “I'm working on the next course.”

I couldn't dump a plate of shrimp on Lance's lap. That would be too obvious. Instead I placed the tray in the middle of the table and picked up the bottle of chardonnay. Carlos was uncorking the third round of wine. I circled the table and refilled people's glasses. When I got to Lance I pretended to trip and spilled the wine on his plate.

Lance jumped to his feet and immediately began brushing imaginary droplets of wine from his suit.

“I'm so sorry,” I said, grabbing a napkin and dabbing the imaginary drops. I was pretty impressed with my performance and the fact that I'd been able to pour the wine on his plate without ruining his suit. “Let me get you a new plate, and chair,” I said.

Lance took the napkin from my hand and patted his cheeks with it. “Don't give it a thought, darling, although I do believe your lovely table setting has been ruined.”

“I'll move you,” I replied.

The guests had turned their attention from Carlos and were watching us. I pointed to the head of the table where Rosalind was seated. “Would you mind if I move Lance down by you?”

Rosalind scooted her chair and patted the tablecloth. “Not at all. We'd love to have him come sit with us. I'm eager to hear about the new season at OSF anyway.”

Lance blew her a kiss. He picked up his wineglass and strolled to the far end of the table. As he passed me he whispered, “Well played. The game is afoot.”

 

Chapter Seventeen

I tried to eavesdrop on their conversation, but each time I returned to the front with tapas someone would stop me to tell me how delicious everything tasted and how entertaining Carlos was. It warmed my heart to hear that our guests were enjoying the evening. They were definitely enjoying Carlos. He opened the fourth bottle of wine—a Tempranillo, my personal favorite—and caressed the cork. “This is from a high mountain region and is full of the scent of the earth. It will complement the beef.”

He passed the cork around the table for everyone to smell. A woman reached out and grabbed my sleeve. “Can I get you something?” I asked.

“No, I have everything I need. I wanted to tell you that this is the most amazing evening. It's my first time here. I'll be telling all of my friends about this. The food is absolutely to die for and your chef is beyond delicious.” She placed an ivory embossed business card in my hand. “Can you give him my number?”

I took the card and smiled. “Will do. Although rumor has it that he's married.”

The woman scowled. “Lucky woman.” She stared at Carlos and sighed. “Lucky, lucky woman.”

Sterling was plating the last tray of tapas in the kitchen. “Everyone is going crazy for the food.”

“And for Carlos.” I tossed the business card on the counter.

“Can you blame them? Look at him. He knows how to work a crowd, that's for sure.”

“Especially a crowd of single women.” Did I sound jealous?

Sterling met my eyes. “Jules, you have to know that he's crazy in love with you. It's obvious.”

“Crazy in love—that sounds like something from Beyoncé.”

“Nope. That's mine. All mine.”

“Are you speaking from personal experience?” I raised an eyebrow. Sterling and I were alike in many ways, but most alike when it came to being forlorn in love. He escaped with poetry. I baked. It worked for the most part.

“Nah. I'm good. Who needs love anyway? I'm swearing off women and falling madly for tapas.” He handed me the tray. “Want to do the honors?”

“Gladly.”

The guests were sipping Burgundy wine. I held up the platter of tender beef that Carlos had marinated for hours, before searing, served with a garlic, chili, and coriander paste. Everyone ooohed and ahhhed. “Last course. Be sure to save room for dessert.”

I glanced to the far end of the table where Lance was practically sitting in Rosalind's lap. He gestured with his hands and used his napkin like a fan. Whatever he was saying to her was working. She was so captivated by his story that she didn't even flinch when Carlos refilled her wineglass.

“Julieta, let me take that.” Carlos discarded the empty wine bottle and took the tray from my hands. “It is going well, no?”

“It's great.”

“You like the tapas?”

“Honestly I haven't even had a chance to try them. We've been so busy.”

He looked disappointed. “I made them for you. They are all your favorites. You remember how you loved the tapas I make for you on the ship?”

I remembered. “Yeah. I remember.” My voice sounded wistful and far away, as if it weren't coming from me. “I have to get back to finish dessert.”

Carlos took one hand from the platter and touched my wrist. “After the guests leave, we will stay and have some tapas and wine,
sí
?”

“Sure.” I hurried away. His touch was unsettling.

“What's next?” Sterling asked. He had filled the sink with soapy water and was soaking the empty trays and platters. Carlos was going to be out of luck. It looked like every single nibble and bite had been devoured.

“I'm going to plate the lemon olive oil cake. Can you take the almond cake out in a minute?”

“You got it.”

My mascarpone cream had whipped to a light and airy consistency. I sliced the moist lemon cake onto individual plates. Then I assembled fresh raspberries and finished each slice with a healthy dollop of the cream.

Sterling and I worked in unison. As soon as I had a slice plated he delivered it to the table. Carlos served a sweet dessert wine with the final course. I sliced thin pieces of my almond cake. It was moist and dense, almost like a pound cake. We served it with scoops of homemade raspberry sorbet. The buttery almond cake with the deep red berry sorbet was striking on the plate. I finished it with a drizzle of dark chocolate glaze.

Lance caught my eye as I made my way in his direction with a carafe of coffee. “Coffee, anyone?” I asked.

Rosalind held up her glass. “That would be lovely, my dear. I think I might need the entire pot. Somehow every time I looked my wineglass was full again. It must be that husband of yours.” She fanned her face with her free hand. “I think I might be tipsy. It's a good thing I can walk home.”

Lance winked at me and put his arm around the back of Rosalind's chair. “I'll escort you.”

She swayed a little in her chair and caught herself on the table. For a second I thought she might yank the tablecloth and Mom's exquisite centerpieces off. Fortunately she steadied herself. “I can't remember the last time I felt this tipsy.”

Lance scoffed. “I wish I had that problem.”

Rosalind's eyes moved away from Lance and toward ShakesBurgers across the street. “I believe I got caught up in the celebration. There's so much to celebrate, isn't there?”

I watched her stare at the modern restaurant. Her jaw tightened as she repeated, “Yes, so many reasons to celebrate.”

Lance gave me a warning look. I filled their coffee cups and left Lance to play the part of detective. A small shiver ran down my back. I had to get Lance alone and find out what—if anything—he'd learned.

That proved to be harder than I imagined. No one wanted to leave. Guests lingered at the table, polishing off the last of the wine and sipping strong coffee. Sterling helped me clear the dishes and clean the kitchen. Carlos worked the room like a politician. He thanked each guest for coming and promised that the next time he was in town, he'd make tapas again.

I had blocked out the fact that he was leaving—and soon. In some ways it would be easier to have him gone. It was nearly impossible to concentrate with his seductive body and accent whispering in my ear, but the thought of him leaving for good made my chest tighten. I knew why people called it a heartache. My heart hurt at the thought of having to say good-bye to him.

Lance and Rosalind were the last guests out the door. Rosalind didn't look as unsteady as she had earlier, but I noticed that Lance had looped his arm through hers and had a firm grasp on her waist.

“Darling, don't forget that special order. I need it first thing,” he said as he blew a kiss with one hand.

“Order?” I hadn't seen an order from OSF come in.

Lance squared his jaw. “Don't be silly, Juliet, you know, my
special
order. I need it first thing.”

I realized Lance's meaning. He was speaking in code. He wanted to dish on what he'd learned from Rosalind. That was good news—it meant that he had actually learned something.

“Right, right. Sorry, it's been a long night. Yes, I'll have your special order bright and early. In fact, I'll deliver it myself.”

“You are a gem.”

Rosalind placed her frail hand in mine. “Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

I watched Lance usher Rosalind out the door and down the sidewalk. I wished that I could follow after them. Had Rosalind revealed something important under the influence of too much wine and Carlos's irresistible tapas? I would have to wait until tomorrow to find out, but I knew for sure that a stop at Lance's office was going to be the first thing I did in the morning.

 

Chapter Eighteen

Sterling wrung out a dish towel in the sink. “That's the last of it, Jules. Anything else you want me to do?” He pushed the sleeves on his hoodie back down. “I wasn't sure what to do with the candles and flowers. They're all sitting on the counter up there, but everything else is back in place.”

I leaned against the counter. My feet were sore. “You're the best. Thanks for everything. We could not have done it without you. Do you want some food to go? I bet you never had a chance to eat, did you?”

Sterling shook his head. “Nope, but we've got that covered.” He motioned for me to wait and walked over to the fridge. Before I had a chance to push the start button on the dishwasher he returned with a to-go box and a small silver platter of tapas. “Carlos had me box up tapas for me and save some for you.”

I pulled out a bar stool and sat. What time had I started this morning? I glanced at the clock. It was after nine. No wonder my feet hurt. “I was going to offer to make you a sandwich or something,” I said to Sterling. “Tapas sound much more delicious.”

“No need.” Sterling held up the box. “I'll take my to-go tapas and see you tomorrow.” He started toward the front, but stopped. “Hey, do you mind if I grab a few of the extra flowers?”

“Not at all. Are they for your special lady friend?” I couldn't help but tease.

I couldn't see Sterling's face, but I knew that I must have embarrassed him because he mumbled something I couldn't hear. “Thanks again for all of your help,” I said with sincerity. “Get out of here, and say hi to Stephanie for me.”

He gave me a two-finger wave and grabbed his skateboard from the office. Carlos saw him to the door. They spoke briefly in tones I couldn't hear. I wondered if Carlos was offering him parting advice on how to romance Stephanie.

Carlos locked up after Sterling left and turned off the main lights. He kept the twinkle lights plugged in and waved me to the front. “Julieta, come have a seat. I will open a new bottle of wine for us.”

The tightness in my chest loosened. I picked up the plate of tapas that Carlos had set aside and grabbed napkins and forks.

Carlos held out my chair for me. “Sit, sit. You have been working too hard,
mi querida.
”

“I'm fine,” I said, but I was glad to be off my feet.

He handed me a glass of red wine. “Try this. I ordered it special for you.”

The wine reminded me of a bottle we had shared in Costa Rica one summer. The ship we were working on had experienced some electrical issues while out at sea, so we ended up docked in Costa Rica for three extra days. We used the time to explore its rain forests and white sandy beaches. Carlos talked me into taking a scuba diving lesson with him. I'll never forget the feeling of gliding under the water. It was like being on another planet. Only we were the aliens. We swam with giant sea turtles and watched schools of neon-colored tropical fish dart through the current in geometric patterns. Carlos, always the jokester, pretended to moon walk on the sea floor. He held my hand and we watched in awe as a pod of dolphins played in the waves above our heads. It was like being in a trance. I never wanted it to end.