Taste: A Love Story (10 page)

Kara had savored her usual three bites and they were exactly as the name implied: perfect. The owner had been a little distraught when she got up and left most of the meal behind, but she had what she needed and there was no need for any more. She was there to examine the mechanics, the structure of the meal. It wasn’t about enjoying food. That wasn’t her job.

Driving back to the office, she turned up the music and found she was a bit giddy that she’d be able to write another great review. Her reputation as a tough critic was well earned. In the past, she’d been downright ruthless, but lately it was as if someone had opened a window. She wondered if the restaurants were getting better or if she was simply better. She liked to think all of her reviews had been fair, but as she pulled onto the freeway, she suspected much of the past few years had been fueled by resentment and missed opportunities. That wasn’t a pleasant thought, so she shifted her focus back to her current review. All she could do at this point was move forward.

“Well?” Olivia asked as she walked by Kara’s office about an hour later.

Kara was typing her review and selecting pictures she wanted from the few Jeremy had sent her. She gave Olivia a thumbs-up, hoping that would keep her walking so Kara could finish her work. No such luck.

“Really? That good? Thumb all the way up?”

“All the way.” Kara finished typing her opening sentence and looked up from her computer. “It was fantastic.”

“Nice. Busy?”

“I got there early, but there was a line out the door when I left and I can understand why. You know, it’s simple to serve good food. I think it’s when people try too hard or try to offer too many things, that’s when things go wrong. I loved it.”

“Great!” Olivia looked down at her legs as if she was checking for a run in her stocking. “Speaking of simple and good, how’s the first article on Logan Rye?”

Kara decided Olivia always sounded like she was undressing a man when she spoke his name, or maybe she reserved that for men she thought were good-looking.

“It’s going well. Jeremy is down there now getting a few shots of his place. I asked him to get the tomatoes too. Logan has five different kinds and the colors are incredible.”

“Well, if anyone can capture it and make it sing, it’s Jeremy.” Olivia was doing it again.
Yuck!
Between her oozing Logan’s name and the thought of poor Jeremy singing, Kara wanted to take a shower.

“True, he is a good photographer. I should have the first section of the feature to you in a week. I’ve set up an interview for tomorrow with the preservation society. They have some wonderful information on the house that I think will be a nice touch. Is it going to make the front of the section?”

“Not sure. I’ll have to see how good it is.” She smiled, stood, and left Kara’s office.

Kara couldn’t quite figure Olivia out. She sort of roamed the office and stopped at everyone’s spot like a queen bee. She loved meetings and team building, and yet she never saw her doing much.

Kara knew it was strange that she worked at a newspaper. The media had never been kind to her, but she supposed it was a case of “if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.” A therapist could probably have a field day with that one, but Kara avoided therapists.

She stood in her stocking feet, ran to the kitchen for some tea, and then decided the ramen house review could wait. She pulled out her notes on Logan’s house and laid them out around a picture of 920 Seco Street in the center of her desk. She loved the door of Logan’s house and quickly texted Jeremy to make sure he got a shot of just the door. Maybe she would use that as a metaphor for something. Jake had been right—it was fun doing something different, something a little more creative.

The time she spent at Logan’s place wouldn’t leave her. She was trying to be objective, but all she truly wanted to write was that his urban farm was one of the most wonderful spaces she’d ever experienced. That so many people threw around the words “warm” and “organic,” but nothing compared to 920 Seco Street. She obviously couldn’t gush like that, the
Times
wasn’t big on gushing and she wanted the feature to make front page of the section. She held up the picture she’d printed off the Internet, the one of him leaning on his bar. Of course it would be a professional coup for her, but Logan deserved to be front and center. An odd feeling of pride and protection seemed to seep into her pores. Even though she would now admit it was entertaining trying to outwit him, she knew he didn’t trust her. She could see it in the quiet moments. Feel it in between the jokes and the digs.

There was a time he once trusted her, but that was long gone. Kara couldn’t fault him for it though—she wasn’t sure if she had ever actually trusted anyone. She should probably look into that therapy, but instead she opened a text from Jeremy of Logan’s beautiful door and got back to her story.

Chapter Eight

L
ogan signed off on the tile bill for the bathrooms. They were done, finally. Bathrooms, he’d read in some trade journal, were very important to the success of any restaurant. Unreal, he had thought at the time. Time spent sweating over the menu, eating spaces, lighting, music, and sometimes it came down to the bathrooms? Hey, who was he to argue? He had bills to pay, so if it was bathrooms his customers wanted, he would give them great ones. He’d built a sink in the middle of a huge table saw left over from The Yard’s days as a hardware store. It was mint green and solid steel. The plumber thought he was nuts when he’d requested they cut a sink into it, but the customers loved it. The male customers that is, because it was in the guy’s bathroom.

The women’s bathroom had a huge hammer sign with four dozen tiny lightbulbs that had hung outside the store since 1939, until he paid far too much to have it removed undamaged, cleaned up, and repaired. It lit up the ladies’ room at night and was another discussion piece among diners. He had to admit it was cool. It brought a nice energy to the place—good mojo as his father would say.

Bathrooms done. Now if he could just figure out the small table in the corner of the restaurant that Summer dubbed “the love corner.” She could spot couples falling in love, or celebrating love, a mile away. The Yard had only been open a few months and they’d already had two proposals in that corner. The lamp that currently cast a dim light over the lovebird perch wasn’t right. It was too shiny and while the actual light was fine, he wanted something with character. Another space that still needed work was the private dining area they used for large parties. He wanted a chandelier-type thing, but definitely not some fancy crystal mess. He wanted something unique.

“Morning,” Makenna called as she pushed through the side door holding her keys in her mouth and a big box.

“Need help there?” He took the box before she answered.

Her keys fell into her now free hands and she dropped them and the purse from around her shoulder into one of the empty booths by the door.

“Fall menus finally came in. Printer called me this morning so I swung by after I dropped Paige off.”

Logan set the box down on the pizza counter and opened one of the clear-wrapped stacks.

“They turned out great. Sage’s handwriting is perfect.” Makenna was now standing next to him.

Logan scanned over the long, cream-colored piece of card stock, through the “Starters” section, and all the way down to the “Finish Up,” where they listed their two reoccurring desserts: Banana Pudding with Handmade Vanilla Wafers and Chocolate Cake with Italian Cherries and Vanilla Cream. They were the only two desserts Logan knew how to make when they first started out. He’d never been good in that area and his father always said, “Stick with what you know.” Logan now had a part-time pastry chef. She made a featured dessert each morning and had taken over the pudding, the cake, and most of the bread, although Logan still loved making bread. There was something essential about bread that he found gratifying. Looking over the menu,
his
menu, written in his bartender’s perfect box lettering, his heart warmed with pride.
This is good work.

“I’m pretty sure we caught any mistakes, but have everyone look at it and let me know. Oh, I wanted to show you Paige’s Halloween costume.” Kenna grabbed her purse. “I took a picture when we tried it on last night.”

Makenna found her phone and began flipping through her pictures. Logan leaned in.

“Wait,” Logan cried, but Kenna kept flipping. “Were you naked in a few of those pictures? You’re into that?”

“Oh yeah, I’m all about the naked shots. I send them to all of your friends. Thinking about starting a newsletter.” She hit Logan with the hand that wasn’t holding her phone.

He laughed. “A newsletter. That was a good one.”

“Ooh, here it is.” Kenna turned her phone. “Isn’t she a sweetie cakes?”

“An owl!” He grabbed the phone, feeling all mushy that Paige was getting so big. It was hard to believe Makenna had her almost six years ago. She and Adam were married their senior year in college and Paige arrived less than a year later. Logan’s dad was nuts for his first grandchild and Paige was the most beautiful baby Logan had ever seen. Makenna and Adam had been pretty wild in college, but once Paige was born, they were great parents, took her everywhere. Adam worked for a boat designer. Three weeks after she was born, he was working a boat show and didn’t want to spend the night in Newport, away from Makenna and Paige, so he started home just after one in the morning. It was only an hour-and-twenty-minute drive, but he fell asleep behind the wheel. His car hit the median, flipped, and Adam was killed instantly. Makenna had called Logan at three in the morning the night Adam died, sobbing that she, “sensed he was gone,” even before the police called. Logan was living in Seattle, but he flew home in time to hold his sister as she collapsed in a corner of the emergency room. It was a horrible time—one of their worst, he thought now, looking at another shot of his adorable niece.

“So cute, right? She’s really into that National Geographic channel these days, made me follow them on my Instagram.”

Logan laughed and noticed, as he had lately, that his sister’s eyes were less vacant. Over the past few months, Makenna seemed better. Logan was certain that Paige had saved his sister. Structure, love, and a “have-to” attitude were what picked Makenna up off the floor.

“That’s awesome,” Logan said. “Where did you get the costume?”

“I made it.”

“You made this? When, between three and four in the morning?”

Makenna laughed.

“Well, Paige helped. Lots of feathers.” She held out her hand and Logan handed back her phone.

“Nice job, Mom.” He pulled her in and kissed her forehead.

“Yeah, well you know, I have to make up for the McDonald’s somehow.”

“True.”

They both laughed.

“Text me that picture, will ya? I’m going to put it up at the hostess station on Halloween.”

“Okay.” Kenna flipped her thumbs along the screen of her phone and then threw it back in her purse. “Done. I need to get going because I’ve got payroll to approve and I have to pick up our third-quarter tax reports from the accountant.” She leaned up and kissed her brother on the cheek. “You giving out candy at your house next week?”

“I’ll be here, but I’ll leave a basket out. Since it’s on a Saturday we should hand out candy here and Travis wants to make popcorn balls.”

“Travis knows how to make popcorn balls?” Makenna asked, moving toward the door.

“He does. He’s dressing up too. He won’t tell me what his costume is, so I’m already scared.”

“I love Halloween.”

“Me too. Hold up, I’ll walk out with you. I want to go to a few places and look for a new lamp for that corner.”

“Oh yeah, that one sucks.” She stepped out the front door.

Logan shook his head and locked the door. “Never one to mince words, are you Kenna?” Why didn’t you tell me when I put it there?”

“You didn’t ask.” She waved and got into her car.

She was going to be all right, he thought. Hell, she’d been all right for years now, but she was his baby sister. She’d lost her mother when she was barely five and then her husband. He wanted more than all right for Kenna; he wanted to see her silly happy again someday.

The lamp in the window at zenDeluxe on Holly Street was perfect for “the love corner.” It was an old brass desk lamp, but the shade was an incredible mosaic of glass pieces. It had a Tiffany lamp feel, but it was more weighted and each piece was a different shape. He fell in love with it on sight, but the store didn’t open until ten. Logan needed to be back at the restaurant to get ready for lunch, so he called the owner when they opened. The woman told him the lamp was the only one they had and that each piece was unique. The shade was made from sea glass and hand designed and assembled in Pasadena. Logan was sold. He paid for it over the phone and texted Summer to have her pick it up on her way to work. Happy with the sale, the shop owner and Logan exchanged niceties, and he invited her to come by for lunch sometime. He explained that he wanted a piece for the restaurant’s private dining area, and asked if she could provide the name of the artist. The owner, Jill, promised to look up the artist and get back to him.