Steamed (14 page)
Authors: Jessica Conant-Park,Susan Conant
Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Mystery Fiction, #Women Sleuths, #Boston (Mass.), #Cooks, #Women Graduate Students
I shook my head. “Truthfully, if I heard this story on the news, I don’t think I’d be running out to eat there. So what’s going to happen to Essence now?”
Madeline crossed her perfect legs and leaned forward. “If Tim wants to pull through, he’s going to have to work hard. I told him I’ll do whatever I can to help him. And the police had better solve this murder quick. The faster they can reassure the public that they’ve caught the killer, the faster customers’ll be put at ease. But still, something as awful as this is hard to overcome.” She sighed and stood up. “Listen, I’ve got to run into the kitchen and help get the food out. It was nice talking to you. I’m sorry you got dragged into all this, but hang in there. At least the food today will be good, right?” She winked at me and headed off to supervise. I liked her already.
The doorbell rang, and Sheryl emerged from the kitchen to answer it. Looking more pulled together than he had, Phil came down the stairs and joined his wife in the foyer. I watched as the two now-childless parents greeted their guests. It seemed miraculous that they were getting through this day without collapsing. A bar had been set up at the far end of the living room, so I headed over and asked the bartender for a gin and tonic. I was not going to make it through this day without a little liquor.
“Is there any food out yet?” I asked the server. I’d watched how much gin he’d poured into my glass. Drinking on an empty stomach could lead to an inappropriate display of my dancing skills atop the Raffertys’ antique coffee table.
“There are appetizers on the table in the dining room.” He gestured behind him. I nodded thanks and went to investigate. The dining room was huge and set up more for a wedding reception than a funeral service, with lighted candles and fresh flowers. Wonderful smells floated my way. The walls were painted a deep periwinkle blue, a perfect color probably not found in the Oops section at Home Depot. Three long tables lined the walls, each covered with china, silver flatware, embroidered napkins, and platters of luscious-looking food. Most people avoid being the first to dip into a buffet, but I was hardly going to hold out. As far as I was concerned, the food was here to be eaten, and from the little I knew about Eric, I was sure he’d have approved of my sampling the goods. Each dish had a printed card beside it with its name. A small side table was set up to promote Magellan. A pile of menus was neatly stacked, and copies of newspaper and magazine reviews had been pasted to a large poster board. Madeline’s business savvy was evidently such that she never missed a PR opportunity.
I grabbed a plate and perused the cards that gave the names of the dishes. Lime and Coriander Marinated Smoked Bluefish on Wonton Chips with Wasabi Vinaigrette; Raspberry and Goat Cheese Stuffed Endive; Steak-au-Poivre Crostini with Fresh Horseradish and Fried Sage; Cold Seafood Salad of Shrimp, Lobster, and Calamari Tossed with Lemon, Thai Basil, and Brunoise Vegetables. No deli platters, no boring cheese trays! And this was only the first table! I refrained from doing a little dance of excitement as I set my drink down and served myself a bit of everything.
Other guests entered the room, and I was hoping to be left in peace to savor my meal. I sat down in a window seat and gazed out at the garden in an effort to look as unapproachable as possible. This endive thing was amazing . . . and the seafood salad better than any I’d had before. Divine. Love at first bite! All the other guests now seemed as engrossed in their food as I was and were too busy discussing the delicacies to bother me. Feeling pleased that my crummy week had suddenly and dramatically improved, I was startled out of my bliss by the most amazing man.
Gorgeous, sweaty, white chef ’s coat open at the top. Dirty blond hair—and not mousy like poor Eric’s, either. Striking blue eyes and smooth, arched eyebrows. Slim build, average height. Super attractive, and I mean super. He seemed to strut into the room in cinematic slow motion. I nearly dropped my plate when he walked toward me, but I managed to save my bluefish from toppling to the floor. As it turned out, he wasn’t so much walking toward
me
as he was walking to the food to see what needed to be refilled, but I could still hear my heart pounding.
me
as he was walking to the food to see what needed to be refilled, but I could still hear my heart pounding.
The gorgeous one glanced at me and smiled as he grabbed an empty tray and headed back into the kitchen.
Argh, don’t go!
I silently pleaded. And like magic he was back! Heading into the living room. What was I supposed to do? Follow him like some sort of groupie? And here I was at Eric’s parents’ house, supposedly mourning my dead boyfriend, while actually having the hots for another man. Too bad. My new boyfriend reentered the dining room holding a beer and stood at the back of the room, surveying the food situation. I stared at him until he finally looked my way. I raised my plate and nodded my enthusiastic approval at the food. I practically leaped out of my seat when he grinned and walked my way.
Argh, don’t go!
I silently pleaded. And like magic he was back! Heading into the living room. What was I supposed to do? Follow him like some sort of groupie? And here I was at Eric’s parents’ house, supposedly mourning my dead boyfriend, while actually having the hots for another man. Too bad. My new boyfriend reentered the dining room holding a beer and stood at the back of the room, surveying the food situation. I stared at him until he finally looked my way. I raised my plate and nodded my enthusiastic approval at the food. I practically leaped out of my seat when he grinned and walked my way.
“Hi, I’m Josh Driscoll. I’m the chef from Magellan. Enjoying the food, I see?” he said as he looked down at my nearly empty plate. My stomach got all jumpy. I took a big swig of my gin and tonic.
“Unbelievable. I mean, really. Everything is out of this world,” I gushed. “I’m Chloe. It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about Magellan, but I’ve never eaten there. I’ve read every amazing review, though. Is this all food from the restaurant’s menu? I mean, do you normally do catering and this is from a different menu, or . . . it’s all really good, I was just wondering . . .”
Oh, I’m talking like an idiot. Somebody shut me up before I scare him off.
Oh, I’m talking like an idiot. Somebody shut me up before I scare him off.
“No, we don’t usually do catering, but Madeline, the owner, wanted to do this for Eric’s parents since he loved Magellan so much. How did you know Eric?”
Oh God, don’t let him think I’m unavailable. I explained the confusion regarding my relationship with the deceased.
“You found the body? Oh, my God! Well, between you and me, his parents seem a little screwed up to me. I don’t blame you for playing along.” There is a “you and me” already? Oh, I’m in love.
“Yeah, well, at least the detective I talked to that night believed me, so he didn’t make me hang around too long answering all sorts of personal questions. He seemed to be the only one who believed that I’d known Eric for all of two hours. I was so freaked out that night I just wanted to get home.” I took another gulp of my drink. “Did you know Eric well?”
“Nah. I mean, he hung out at the restaurant a lot and was always putting his two cents in about everything, but I wouldn’t say I knew him well.”
One of Josh’s assistants stuck his head into the room, looked around until he saw Josh, and called over to him. “Josh, we need you in here.”
Josh turned to me. “Sorry, I gotta run. Maybe I’ll find you later, though?” Another handsome smile, and he was gone.
I reloaded my plate and made my way back into the living room, where Madeline cornered me. “I see you met Josh. Cute, huh?” I blushed furiously and nodded. “He’s single, you know.” She gave me an exaggerated wink and nudge.
I laughed and quickly silenced myself when I caught Sheryl staring at me. When I’d put on my serious face, I said casually, “He seems very nice. The food is outstanding. I see why Magellan gets such glowing reviews. And please don’t make me laugh, or Eric’s parents will wonder what’s wrong with me.”
“Oh, forget about them. I love matchmaking, and you two could be a great match. If you ask me, Josh had a little skip in his step on the way back to the kitchen. How old are you?” I told her twenty-five, and she practically jumped for joy. “Good! Josh is twenty-eight, so that’s perfect. Well, we’ll have to get you in one night for dinner. Come on, let’s get another drink.” Beautiful Madeline was looking more beautiful by the minute. She led me to the bar, where we ran right into Timothy. I hoped this wasn’t going to be awkward.
“Hi, there,” Madeline chirped to Tim. “You’ve met Chloe, right?” Tim and I nodded and smiled at each other. “Oh God, right. The night of the murder. What was I thinking? Sorry. Listen, I was talking to Chloe earlier about Essence. You need to come up with a game plan to keep everything running. This is a pivotal time, what with this awful incident, but I think you can get through it. Let me know what I can do.”
“I know. You’re right.” Timothy nodded emphatically. “I’ve been giving the story to the newspapers in the best light possible. You know, playing up the fact that nobody in the restaurant was involved, et cetera. Just explaining that it was in no way connected with Essence. I don’t know what else to do. But the police have been all over everyone at the restaurant trying to find out if the murderer worked there . . .”
“Well, first of all, the police have been all over Magellan, too, trying to make it out like someone on our staff was out to get you and your new restaurant. Which is bull, since everyone there knows you from before and loves you. And obviously Eric’s parents aren’t worried, or they wouldn’t have had us all here. So the police investigation will run its course and be over soon. And if you ask me, Eric’s murder isn’t restaurant related. I think it’s personal. We all know that Eric was an annoying little snot who happened to have a lot of money. Someone in his life probably got fed up with his bullshit and got rid of him.”
Tim started to protest, but Maddie stopped him. “Don’t say it. Realistically, people get murdered for money all the time. More importantly, Tim, you should have pushed the Raffertys to let you do the food here. I mean, I was happy to do it, but you have to use every opportunity possible to promote yourself. It may seem callous, but you know as well as I do how this business is. You have to fight tooth and nail for every customer. Don’t let this murder send you into a downward spiral. You’ll be okay.” Madeline leaned over and gave her ex-husband an enormous hug. “Essence can make it. It can.”
“Thanks, Maddie. You’re right, you’re right. I’m going to do some serious work on promotion,” Tim agreed.
“Good. Call me this week. Maybe we can get together and pound out some ideas?”
“Definitely. Oh, there’s Phil and Sheryl. I’m going to go talk to them. I’ll see you two ladies later?”
Two drinks, one mini fruit tart with gooseberries and citrus cream, and one mini fried-banana cheesecake later—and no further Josh sightings—and I was ready to call it quits. After a few more uncomfortable encounters with Eric’s parents, I’d run out of patience with the bereaved-girlfriend act. Madeline rescued me.
“Sheryl. Phil. I think it’s time for Chloe to go home. She must be as tired as you both are, and she needs to get some rest. I’ll make sure she gets home safely.” With an Oscar-caliber look of sincerity, she whisked me toward the kitchen so swiftly that I barely had time to say good-bye. Bless her.
“Josh?” She called out into the kitchen.
Although thrilled that Josh was walking over to us, I did stop to take notice of the immense kitchen, which was equipped with stainless-steel Viking appliances, granite counters, and ceramic floors. There were five or six people working there, most of them beginning the monumental task of cleaning up. I wondered who was left at the restaurant.
Madeline the matchmaker spoke to my new favorite chef. “Josh, can you please take this poor girl out of here? One more minute with Eric’s parents, and I think she’s going to slit her throat. Sorry, bad choice of words. But it looks like you’re in good shape here, and the rest of the crew can finish up.”
Embarrassed to be foisted off on Josh, I said, “It’s okay. I can call a cab. Don’t worry about it—you don’t have to drive me.”
Please want to drive me, please want to drive me
! Josh looked so adorable, all sweaty from the kitchen, hair tousled, jacket spatted with grease and covered in food stains . . .
Please want to drive me, please want to drive me
! Josh looked so adorable, all sweaty from the kitchen, hair tousled, jacket spatted with grease and covered in food stains . . .
Josh spoke up eagerly, “You’re not taking a cab. I’ll drive you home.” He put a hand on my shoulder, and I almost fainted. “Maddie, everything should be under control here. And Duff and Brian are chefing tonight for you. I talked to Brian earlier, and he’s all good, so no worries there. These guys’ll be done soon and back at the restaurant in time for dinner. We prepped everything last night, so they’re in good shape.” He looked back at me, “I just have to grab my toolbox, and we’ll go. And, Maddie, I’ll see you Monday.” I didn’t know chefs had toolboxes, but I would’ve waited all night for a ride home from him.
I said good-bye to Madeline and in an undertone thanked her for heroically saving me from the Raffertys’ clutches. In an overly dramatic voice she called after us, “Have fun, kids! Don’t be out too late! Drive safe! Fasten your seat belts!” She giggled and whirled back around.
I followed Josh out through the kitchen door to his car, the Xterra I’d seen in the driveway. Following Maddie’s instructions, I buckled my seat belt and gave Josh directions to my condo. I felt way too giddy for someone leaving a memorial service, but I was riding in a cool car with a cool boy. Yay me!
“I didn’t know chefs carried toolboxes. What do you keep in it?” I asked.
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