I See...Love (A Different Road Book 1) (4 page)

BOOK: I See...Love (A Different Road Book 1)
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“Joss, I’m sorry we’re going to have to reschedule you,” Josh says, walking into the kitchen.

“No, give her a key,” River says, standing back up straight. Then, he takes a step backwards.

“Give her a key?” Josh asks, confused.

“Yes, give her a key. Joss, please finish. You can let yourself out and lock up when you’re done,” River continues.

Josh reaches into a drawer and produces a key attached to a heavy, brushed silver Mason Group keychain. Josh grabs a briefcase, then walks up to River and takes his elbow. They walk to the front door, Josh opens it, and then he looks back toward me. I’m standing yet again with my mouth hanging open while holding something, but this time, I’m holding a key.

“I’ll be right back,” Josh tells River. Josh heads back into the kitchen where I’m still standing dumbfounded and whispers, “How’s Nina?”

“How’s Nina?” I ask, confused.

“Josh, we need to go…now,” River demands, as he continues to look out the front door.

And we’re back to angry and demanding.

“Right,” he says, and then walks back to the front door.

He takes River’s elbow again and they leave. Intrigued, I walk to the front of the house and look out the window. Josh opens River’s door and helps him into the car just like I would think a romantic man would do for his woman. Josh jogs around to the driver seat, and they take off down the road. Aren’t they just the cutest couple?

 

After my conference call, I sit down on my leather chair behind my desk that smells like exotic hardwood and lemon furniture polish. Out of these smells though, I can’t get the smell of Joss out of my head. For the first time in a long time, I was brought back to being a little boy standing in my mother’s kitchen as she cooked. I never liked Eggplant Parmesan as a kid. Back then I thought it was just mushy, tasteless food, but it was one of my father’s favorite dishes. My mother didn’t cook often, we had a staff that did that. But once a year on my father’s birthday, she’d cook him his favorite meal. Even though I didn’t like the taste of it, I do remember the smell of it as she cooked it.

My mother also had a beautiful voice. I never heard her sing other than while she cooked. I’ve since grown to love the dish and I’ve had so many people cook it for me, but they’ve never been able to recreate what I remember. When I smelled it this morning, my heart skipped a beat and a sliver of happiness pierced my heart.

That smell though, it wasn’t just in the dish, it was on Joss. She must have brushed her hair behind her ear or something after she used it. It was intoxicating and I couldn’t help myself as I smelled her. There isn’t an expensive perfume in the world that smells better.

“River, we have a lunch meeting, remember?” Josh says, coming into my office.

“Yeah, I remember. Let’s go,” I say and stand.

Josh walks over to my chair and slips on my suit jacket, then he puts his hand on my shoulder, then slides his hand down and he wraps it around the back of my arm. We walk to the elevator, and then head down to my car sitting out front. Josh holds the passenger door open for me to get in. As he drives to the restaurant, I find my thoughts still slipping back to Joss in my kitchen. She sang as she cooked. I don’t think she knew she was singing out loud, but she was. She smelled like heaven and she sang beautifully as she cooked. I quickly push down the emotions bubbling up in the back of my throat. These emotions are weak and only allowed in the shower. I quickly replace them with the comfort of anger and put up my front of the power that I command.

All through lunch I’m distracted. The sound of Joss singing and the smell of that damn nutmeg, mix with memories of my mother singing as she cooked for my father. I can’t focus on the meeting and I do something that even surprises me. We’ve all ordered our meals, but the food has yet to arrive. I rip the napkin out of my lap, stand up, and then throw the napkin on the table.

“Gentlemen, I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to reschedule this meeting. Josh, take me back to the office,” I say as I button my suit jacket. Everyone’s chairs scrape on the floor as they too stand.

“Gentlemen, please call Mr. Mason’s secretary to reschedule another lunch meeting,” Josh says, then takes my arm.

Once back in the car, something that was off this morning just has to be answered. I heard what he asked Joss when he went back into the kitchen. Josh has worked for me for eight years and he, more than anyone, knows I have impeccable hearing and I hear everything.

“Why is Nina not coming to cook anymore?” I ask Josh as he drives back to the office.

The air in the car instantly fills with tension. Josh’s silence answers my question. I had thought it for some time, not much gets by me.

“River…I” Josh starts.

“Save it. You know the rules and the consequences. What do you know about Joss,” I ask next.

“Joss and Nina co-own California Chef together. They grew up together, best friends, I guess. They’re both twenty-five. They went away to college together, but Joss dropped out of the University and started attending culinary school. Joss graduated from Le Cordon Bleu in Los Angeles while Nina graduated from The University of Southern California School of Business. With the help of their parents, they own a home together and run California Chef out of their house.”

“They run this business out of their home?” I ask surprised.

“Yes,” he replies.

“And how did you meet Nina?” Again the car fills with heavy silence.

“A friend of a friend,” he answers in a soft voice.

I hear the familiar construction from the office building next to mine as Josh pulls up to the curb and stops. He turns off the car, but doesn’t get out.

“River…” he starts again.

“Was it serious?” I ask him.

“No,” he answers. But it was a lie. The inflection in his short answer tells me a completely different story.

Josh gets out of the car, then comes around to my side and opens the door. He reaches in and wraps his hand around my arm just above my elbow. As I step one foot out of the car, a familiar, faint smell passes my nose and I pause. I stand on both feet and cock my head to the side and take another sniff. Josh closes the door, and then we take two steps onto the sidewalk.

“Joss?” I find my mouth saying before my brain can correct itself.

 

 

 

After I cooked and cleaned up, I leave River Mason’s house and head to a specialty shop in town before I go to my next client. She’s an older, widowed client whose rich trust fund kids have moved away and left her in the care of maids and staff. I know how much she adores her mid-afternoon tea. When I get the chance, I like to stop at this cute little shop downtown that carries her favorite jasmine tea and bring her some. I love the smile it puts on her face when she sees it. Although, she has that same smile for me when I don’t bring her tea. I always schedule a little extra time to spend with Mrs. Davis after I’m done cooking to just sit down and talk. She’s so full of life and tells me the most amazing stories from when she dated her husband. Why her kids aren’t around is beyond me.

With my purchase in hand, I head back to my van parked on the busy downtown street. A sleek, black car that looks exactly like the car River and Josh left in this morning pulls up to the curb and parks as I walk by. Funny, I’ve never seen a car like this before today, and now I’ve seen two in the same day. Out of curiosity, I turn around to look at the rear of the car to read the make and model. There’s no name, just what looks like a rearing horse in the center of the trunk. My attention is pulled from the logo to the driver of the car, walking toward the passenger door. Oh my God, it’s Josh! I quickly duck around the side of a tree next to the bus stop, and then peek my head around. Josh continues to walk toward the passenger side of the car and opens the door. He reaches in and puts his hand around a very familiar looking suit jacket. I dart back behind the tree and close my eyes. I giggle at how cute they are, and then I peek back around the tree again. River puts one foot on the ground and stops.

A few seconds later his other leg appears, then he stands. He then cocks his head to the side and sniffs. What the hell is it with this guy and smelling? He’s like a damn bloodhound. Oh my God, I crack myself up! He’s a bloodhound and a food ninja. He’s a freaking bloodhound ninja. I cover my mouth to stop myself from giggling.

“Joss?” River questions.

Oh my God! He is a bloodhound ninja! I plaster myself to the tree and hold my breath. Why holding my breath will make a difference, I don’t know. Am I a loud breather or something? After the longest twenty seconds of my life, Josh takes River’s arm again and leads him into the building. I let out the breath I was holding, then take a calming, deep breath and step back out onto the sidewalk. I glance at the glass doors again that they just went through, and etched in the center of the glass are the words, Mason Group. OK, where did those come from? I’ve been down here a million times and I’ve never noticed this was Mason Group.

I head to Mrs. Davis’, then on to my last client before calling it a day. The entire time at my clients last two houses, I keep thinking about River. No matter how many times I’ve told myself River is with Josh, I just can’t get him out of my thoughts.

I pull my catering van into the garage and haul my empty cooler bags inside. Just as I put the last one on the counter, Nina comes barreling out of the office still wearing the pajamas I left her in this morning.

“Well?” she questions, excitedly.

“Well, what?” I return, unzipping the cooler bags to put empty containers and spices away.

“Don’t play coy with me young lady. How’d it go with Jo…? I mean Mr. Mason?” she asks, excitedly.

“You could have told me,” I answer, putting the spices back on the spice rack.

“Could have told you what?” she answers, reaching in the cooler bag helping me put things away.

“Oh, so now who’s playing coy? Uh, let’s see. How about that River Mason is gay,” I say, bugging out my eyeballs at her.

Seriously, I don’t care that he’s gay. I have gay friends. Shit, our neighbors Nicholas and Peter are gay and I love them to pieces. But, I would have thought
that
would be something she would have mentioned. But no, she mentions his view and his gorgeous kitchen and she even said he’s not bad to look at. Which he isn’t, but that’s beside the point.

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