Tasteless (2 page)

“So what’s the deal with your meeting?” Rye asked.  “Do you know if you’re already hired or do they have to see if they like you in person?”

“I have the job.  Doesn’t matter if they like me or not.”

“Are you sure?” Rye asked.  “Because Warner’s not around a lot and needs to
really
trust the person handling everything.”

“He trusted Rye with all
this
,” Sam replied, looking around.  “So I’m not too worried.”

“What’s wrong with what you’re seeing?” she asked, her voice so defensive and her expression so angry that she probably gave herself away.  Sam narrowed his eyes at her, rubbing his stubbled jaw before laughing.

“Man,” he said.  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think
you
were Rye Somerville…”

Rye remained silent, casting her gaze at the ground as she pretended to kick at something.

“Really.”  Sam walked up even closer to Rye and looked down at her face.  She wanted to look away, but a stubborn desire to stand her ground made her stare right back.  He cocked his head, his eyes tracing her face before throwing a quick glance at her hair.  Laughter erupted from his throat.  “You’re fucking with me.”

“Excuse me?” Rye asked, suddenly thrown off.  He grabbed a strand of her dark blonde hair, turning up the frayed edges.  Rye pulled back, her hair slipping from his fingers as he cracked a smile.

“You’re not a Somerville,” he replied.

For a moment, Rye was further confused by his answer.  It wasn’t until she caught his eyes scanning her body from her dusty white Keds to her sweatpants to her old t-shirt and back to her makeup-less face and dry hair did she realize what he meant.

“Oh, right,” she said, shaking her head.  “You think because I’m Sage and Poppy’s sister that I would be the type of girl to spend hours on my looks.”

“I think you could benefit from anything more than thirty seconds,” Sam smirked.  He leaned back, crossing his arms as he continued to study her like she was some puzzle to be figured out.  Rye wanted to say something in return.  She could feel herself getting agitated by all his little quips and she didn’t want to back down – not so early on.  She searched her brain for something witty and pithy in response – anything that would help leverage her standing in the current situation and stake her claim on the restaurant they were about to share.

But she remained silent, immobilized with the quiet rage that was burning within her, trying to accept that this frustrating character had just waltzed into her life with so little warning.

“Nice to meet you, Rye Somerville.”  Sam finally said, breaking the silence.  He held out his hand.  Rye decided she hated him already.

~

Nothing about the meeting was as Sam had expected.

First, he made the mistake of taking a train up to Dutchess Plains the night before to ensure he wouldn’t be late for his meeting with the Somervilles.  Then, there were the coyotes outside his motel that howled their way into his dreams and kept him up all night.  Then there was the decision to take an early cab to the restaurant’s neighborhood in hopes of doing some prep work before the meeting, only to find that there was nothing in Somerville Diner’s neighborhood but Somerville Diner.

To make matters worse, he had to kill two hours with a cranky girl that he would later learn was Rye Somerville.  Sam had heard that the Somerville girls were all a bit insufferable, but at the very least, Poppy, Sage, and Olive were kind of fun to look at.  Rye, not so much.  She plodded around in her oversized Keds and knotty hair and made sure to frown at Sam whenever she got a chance.

When Warner finally showed up to save him from Rye’s venomous glares, he stayed for all of ten minutes.

“This is just a meet and greet,” he had said, shooing away all the ideas and proposals that Sam had prepared for their meeting.  “I just wanted you and Rye to get to know one another, have you sign some papers, and get you acquainted with our space.”

So Sam did just that, checking out the dilapidated dining room and practically ancient kitchen.  They didn’t even have a point of sale system or any electronic device at all – just a rickety register that accepted only cash.  Sam couldn’t believe that anything like Somerville Diner could exist so close to the city, let alone survive.  Thankfully, he didn’t leave the meeting too disillusioned.  He hadn’t had any expectations to begin with.

After the “meeting,” Sam stood outside waiting for his ride.  He had planned to go apartment hunting near the diner so he had called a friend from the city to drive up and help him out.  But when his friend arrived, he had already had his fill of the Somervilles and Dutchess Plains.  All he wanted now was just to get back to the city.

“Change of plans,” Sam said, as he got into the car.  He lowered the passenger side seat to its lowest position before propping his feet up on the dash.  “I’m just going to commute.”

“Are you sure?” Damian asked, putting the car back in park.  “That might get annoying after the first week.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get out of your place now that I have an income again,” Sam said.  “So I won’t be around to annoy you and the girlfriend anymore.”

“You’re welcome to stay,” Damian laughed.  “I was just suggesting that you make your life easier by cutting out the three total hours you’d have to drive everyday.”

“I’ll take the train,” Sam shrugged.  “Besides, I think
you’re
the only one in your household that’s okay with me being there.  I’m pretty sure Gemma has had enough of me.”

The fact of the matter was that Sam had just about had enough of himself.  He had been staying with Damian in his Brooklyn townhouse ever since he was evicted from his own Bushwick apartment.  Sam had been months behind on his rent and was coasting on the fact that his landlord’s wife had a bit of a crush on him.  But once it became clear that he wouldn’t be able to come up with the money, the couple decided to cut their losses and just kick him out.

And it seemed that being kicked out was going to be the theme of the year.  After dunking all his
Chef Elite
prize money in his Flatiron restaurant project, he had been unceremoniously ousted by the majority investors before the doors could even open.  It was a combination of drowning his bitterness in an amped up party life and turning down job offers that he thought were beneath him that landed him in the position of couch surfing.  Luckily, he had one old friend who had more than a couch to offer.

Sam was Damian’s resident advisor back in their days at UCLA.  Though Damian was just a freshman when they met, Sam had heard about him and his athletic abilities before he even stepped on campus.  Therefore, it wasn’t the biggest surprise when he was drafted into the NBA just a year later.  What
was
a surprise was everything that happened to Damian after that.  Sam had lost touch with him soon after Damian moved to Oakland to play for The Warriors, but his old friend’s life would go on to become
very
public.  From the long list of alleged romantic conquests that would circulate through all the gossip blogs and magazines to his controversial first season with the Knicks and an annulled Vegas wedding, Sam was almost forced to stay updated on Damian’s life, whether or not he wanted to.

But when Sam ran into him at a bar few months back and drunkenly confessed to his troubles, Damian proved to be nothing like the recent gossip had portrayed him to be.  He had always known Damian to be humble and selfless to a fault, two things Sam could never quite imagine experiencing or understanding, and it seemed he hadn’t changed as much as the media said he did.  Damian quickly offered up the guest bedroom of the Brooklyn townhouse that he shared with his girlfriend, Gemma Hunter.

“I’m pretty sure Gemma referred me to this job because she wants me out of the house and far from Brooklyn,” Sam said as Damian pulled the car out of Somerville Diner’s parking lot, which was really just a patch of dirt where people happened to park their cars.

“Actually,
I
referred you and it was because I knew you were looking for work,” Damian replied.  “I didn’t think cooking for just me and Gemma was doing your ego any good.”

“My ego’s just fine.”

“I’m sure it is,” Damian laughed.  “Considering all the notches you’ve been putting on the guest bedpost.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Sam smirked.  Though he was now broke as hell, he found that his short stint on
Chef Elite
and the Manhattan restaurant scene still did him well.  He had never had trouble with women, but being a celebrity chef in New York opened more doors than he ever thought were possible.

“Was that Markita Farina sneaking out or our place last night?” Damian asked.

“Maybe.”

“I seem to recall you saying that you two were never a thing.”

“We
weren’t,
” Sam said.  “Until last night.”

“Isn’t she married?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, alright.”

“Don’t be so judgmental,” Sam replied.  “You’re a pro athlete.  This was the life you were supposed to live.  And your teammates do it all the time!”

“My teammates can only dream of getting some of the women that you manage,” Damian said, shaking his head.  “And like you said, they’re
pro athletes
while you’re an unemployed chef.”

“
Was
an unemployed chef,” Sam said.  “And for that remark, I’m going to exercise my squatter’s rights and stay at your place.”

“That’s not how squatter’s rights work – and I told you, I’m not kicking you out,” Damian laughed.  “But maybe we should soundproof your room or something.”

Chapter 2

SAM LAURENT TO REBOOT DUTCHESS PLAINS’ SOMERVILLE DINER

Taste Buddies New York

June 11
th
 

The controversial and beloved reality show star and celebrity chef, Sam Laurent, is finally about to embark on a new project.  After disappearing from the restaurant scene for nearly a year, he’s finally popped back up – but this time, outside of Manhattan and in the small farming town of Dutchess Plains.

Laurent will be heading the renovation efforts at Somerville Diner, best known as the backdrop of the reality show,
Days of Somerville. 
Though the restaurant hasn’t been on camera since the show’s cancellation five years ago, it has been up and running under owner Warner Somerville’s youngest daughter, Rye Somerville.

Laurent’s hiring comes as a surprise to the reality show’s fans as Warner famously vowed to keep the restaurant’s management within the family in their last season on air.

Before Rye could question where her father had found the money to hire Sam, she got her answer.  The morning after meeting Sam, there was a knock at the door of their family home.  Since Basil moved out, Rye lived alone in the four-bedroom house down from the diner.  It had felt so undersized and cramped that she would often opt to sleep in the living room just so she could breathe.  But now, while she made her way from the bedroom to the front door, she wondered how she ever thought the house was small.  On her own, it felt like a giant, empty maze.

Through the lightly curtained window of her front door, she could spot Mariana waiting patiently.  Mariana was the head chef at Somerville Diner, and the mother of Rye’s childhood crush, Jeremy.  Though Jeremy never came to see Rye as anything more than a friend, his mother treated her as if she were already her daughter.

“There’s always hope that you actually will be one day,” Mariana would tease.  Rye’s crush on Jeremy was never a secret, as much as she wished it was.

Rye made her way down the stairs, giddy over Mariana’s surprise visit.  She had planned to do all her venting over Sam at work on Monday, but she could just as happily do that now.

“Mariana!” Rye exclaimed, swinging the door open.

“Sweetheart!” Mariana returned, hugging Rye tightly.  “I was hoping you were home.”

“Where else would I be?” Rye laughed.  Mariana knew as well as anyone that Rye didn’t really have a life outside of the diner.  She waved her into the house, trotting towards the kitchen to make Mariana’s favorite milk tea.

“I was going to call to make sure,” Mariana said.  “But I figured I’d just come over.  I wanted to see this place and the farm and the restaurant all one last time.”

“One… last time?” Rye stammered, stopping in her tracks and turning so abruptly that Mariana crashed right into her.  “Sorry – but what?”

“Oh dear, I thought Warner told you yesterday,” Mariana said, wringing her hands.  “We were all let go Friday night.”

“
What?
” Rye could feel her throat tighten.  “What do you mean
let go
?”

“Sweetheart, you knew that hiring Sam onboard meant making some changes – we all knew this was coming,” Mariana replied, her voice surprisingly soothing considering she had just been laid off.  “Warner said that everyone but family had to go.”

“Oh, well, lucky me,” Rye quipped.  “How could he do this to you? You’ve been with us for
two decades
doesn’t that mean anything to him?”

“We’re being taken care of, so don’t worry,” Mariana sighed.  “We all got a pretty little severance package.  So I’m going to use it to move down to the city to be closer to my mother.  Besides, Jeremy’s moved out there now and well… I guess this is a good opportunity for me to be close to family again.”

“Mariana!” Rye frowned, taking her hands.  “You’re the only friend I have left up here.  What am I going to do without you?”

“Aren’t you at least a
little
excited to be working with Sam Laurent?” she asked.  “His season was my favorite season of
Chef Elite.
  And he was my favorite contestant.  I was hoping I’d get to meet him before I left.”

“Be glad you didn’t,” Rye huffed.  “The guy’s a major douchebag.”

“Rye, stop,” Mariana laughed.  “Listen, as sad as I am that I can’t work here anymore, I recognize what big help Sam can be to the restaurant.  Don’t you want to serve customers under the retirement age for once?”

“All I want is to keep my grandparents’ restaurant and recipes alive,” Rye said.  Mariana frowned, reaching forward to touch a finger to Rye’s nose.

“I know, honey,” she replied.  “But let’s be real, here.  Your current customers are all pretty close to kicking the bucket.  And once they’re all gone, you’ll be glad to have had the help.”

~

When Sam showed up Monday morning to find a note from Warner saying he would back in Los Angeles for the next two weeks and was leaving Rye to work in place of him, he was pretty sure his day couldn’t get any worse.  But when he found himself standing beside their broken-down car next to a dirt path road an hour later, he realized just how many ways his day
could
get worse.

“Stop glaring at me,” Rye said.  “I told you I wasn’t sure how well the car was doing.  We haven’t driven it in awhile.”

“Then how the hell do you get around?” Sam asked, wiping the sweat from his brow.  The sun was beating down on them and they had managed to drive to the one area in Dutchess Plains without trees for shade or passing drivers for help.  He held his iPhone up in the air, pacing back and forth across the uncut grass in hopes of finding a signal.

They were already ten minutes late for their appointment with the farmers at Martelli Orchards and had no way of letting them know that they would be even later than that.  While Sam knew he didn’t exactly have a reputation for being responsible, he was at the very least known to be punctual.  The idea of running late for his first vendor meeting with no way of letting them know was giving him a headache.

“We can walk,” Rye said.  “It’s maybe twenty minutes from here.”  She stared at the sweat that had seeped through the front of his t-shirt.  “You think you can handle that?”  Sam didn’t answer.  Instead, he began marching in the direction they had been driving.  It was bad enough that he was in this situation, but being accompanied by Rye and her surly attitude was nothing short of a nightmare.

Sam held his phone out in front of him, staring at the “no signal” sign and willing it to change.  He was desperate to connect to anything outside of his current situation and decided to distract himself by thinking about whom he’d call first once he had the signal.  A part of him figured it should be Mike Martelli, to inform him that he and Rye would be late for their appointment and to apologize for messing up what he was sure was a busy schedule.  But another part of him thought about calling Warner Somerville and quitting right then and there.

But before Sam could further fantasize of quitting on his first day on the job, a truck drove towards them and slowed to a stop as it approached.  Sam stopped, peering into the truck to see a friendly looking man in his fifties dressed in a short-sleeved plaid button-down.

“Hey there!” the man said.  “Are ya Sam?”

“Yes,” he answered.  Before he could ask the driver his name, Sam noticed the logo on the side of the truck read
Martelli Orchards.
  “You must be Mike.”

“That I am!”

“How’d you find us?” Sam asked.  Mike pointed forward towards Rye who was making her way over to the truck.

“I texted him,” Rye shrugged before reaching into the truck to give Mike a hug.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a signal?” Sam asked, forcing a smile and trying to sound pleasant for Mike’s sake.

“You didn’t ask,” Rye replied.  Mike stepped out of the truck, helping Rye up into the flatbed before turning to Sam.

“That’s always been her favorite seat in my truck,” Mike laughed.  “We used to stuff the back with haystacks and let her and her brothers ride around like that.  You can have the passenger seat.”  He gestured for Sam to go around the other side.

As they began to drive, Sam was thankful for even a momentary break from Rye’s scornful glare.  He looked into the rearview mirror, watching as she sat facing away from them.  Even then, he could tell she was just as thankful to take a break from him.  Sam sighed, not looking forward to his next two weeks alone with Rye.

“So how are you liking Dutchess Plains?” Mike asked, smiling happily under his grey mustache.  “It’s pretty different from the city, isn’t it?”

“Very,” Sam said.  “It’s going to take some getting used to.”

“Most of you city people end up liking it,” Mike continued.  “It’s a nice change of pace.  Nice to be around all the nature and trees and it’s especially beautiful in the autumn, you’re going to love it.”

Sam nodded in reply, propping his head up against the side window as they turned onto yet another dirt path.  In the distance, he could see long stretches of greenery – trees and bushes lining a vast field that surrounded a small pond.  It was indeed quite beautiful and he was sure he’d enjoy it more if he weren’t dealing with sunstroke.

“Are ya from the city originally?” Mike asked.  “You give me more of a California vibe.”

“I went to college in Southern California,” Sam answered.  “But I’m originally from Hawaii.”

“Get out of here!” Mike said.  “Hawaii! And here I was trying to impress you with my little farm.”  As Mike pulled his truck up by the painted red barn, Sam found himself indeed impressed.  Though he had done many early morning farmer’s market runs in the city and could say he had picked some fresh fruit from a tree, he had never truly visited an actual farm.

It was surprising to him that something so vast and lush could grow so close to the city.  Sam stepped out, marveling at the landscape as he stepped closer to the fencing where the farmland began.  Just on the other side was a line of short strawberry bushes, with small but bright strawberries sitting on the leaves like gems.  He felt himself grinning, his mood changing as he suddenly realized the upside of running a restaurant in Dutchess Plains.

He turned back towards the truck where Mike was helping Rye hop out, suddenly feeling less cranky and more charged up for the day.

“So can we just walk around?” Sam asked.  “Or are you going to take us?”

“I meant to take you but unfortunately I need to tend to some matter in the next hours,” Mike said.  “But my daughter’s inside.  I’m going to have her handle the tour and we can discuss what type of produce you’ll be needing in your kitchen once you get back.”

“Your daughter?” Rye asked.  “I thought I’ve met all your kids and I just remember your son.”

“Oh no,” Mike laughed.  “I guess you last saw her when you guys were twelve? She had the short hair then and was going through her tomboy phase but she’s always been my
daughter
.  I’ve never had a son.”

When a shapely young woman walked out of the barn and headed towards them, Sam was pleased to find that Jamie was
very
much female.  He managed to detect her feminine figure even through her denim overalls and she greeted them with a sweet, bell-like voice.  Her thick brown hair was pulled into a high ponytail and her perfectly tan skin was almost luminous against her white wifebeater.  Sam smiled to himself, admiring the sexy caricature of a farmer’s daughter that he would be soon spending some time with.  As he took one more glance at her long, toned legs, he couldn’t help but think that his day had maybe turned around.

But before he could get too optimistic, a little sound of disgust came out from beside him.  He turned to see Rye raising a judgmental eyebrow at him.

“Don’t embarrass me,” she whispered.  “The Martellis are close friends of the family.”

“Are you sure?” Sam smirked.  “Until today, you thought Jamie was a boy.”

“Well I mean Mike and his wife,” Rye sputtered, crossing her arms.

“Hey there!” Jamie said as she approached.  She had the same bright and welcoming smile as her father as she gave Rye a hug.  “I guess you don’t remember me?”

“She does but she thought you were a boy until today,” Sam blurted out.  He smiled as he turned to delight in Rye’s incredulous stare.

“Oh, it’s okay,” Jamie laughed, patting Rye on the shoulder.  “My own parents forgot I was a girl for awhile.” Sam was pretty sure
no one
would mistake Jamie for anything other than a girl these days.  She had a body that managed to look incredible in an outfit that would make most people look figureless or dumpy and the bone structure of a high-fashion cover model.  Best of all, Sam could already tell she was quite taken with him.

“Are we taking this golf cart for the tour?” Rye asked, squinting at the tiny vehicle they were walking towards.  “Because it looks like it only seats two.”

“Oh shoot, that’s right,” Jamie frowned.  “It
had
a little seat facing the back, but it’s broken.  I’m so sorry, I totally forgot.”

“Can we walk it all?” Sam asked.  “Or is that going to take too much time.”

“The whole farm’s got more acreage than it looks,” Jamie said, biting her lower lip.  “So we definitely can’t do that on our schedule.”  Sam walked over to the golf cart, sitting himself down in the driver’s seat.  He looked over at Jamie, flashing his eyebrows.

“Well, Rye seems to pretty familiar with the farm so maybe it should just be you and me?” Sam said with a smile.

“Kind of early to be edging me out already,” Rye said.  “In case you’ve forgotten, it’s still my name on the restaurant – not yours.”

“I’m just trying to find a solution,” Sam said.  Jamie laughed, taking Rye’s hand and leading her to the passenger side of the golf cart.  She patted the seat, indicating she wanted Rye to sit.

“Or…” Jamie said, coming back around to the driver’s seat.  She leaned forward, putting her arms around Sam’s neck as she slid onto his lap.  “We can share the driver’s seat, if you don’t mind.”  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Rye’s shock over the sudden escalation.  Sam couldn’t blame her.  Though he was used to women literally crawling into his lap, he was surprised by how quickly Jamie had made that move – especially completely sober.