The Secret Ingredient (6 page)

‘The evidence is pretty compelling.'

‘And that's why you won't have a baby with me?'

He breathed out loudly. ‘It was never part of the plan, Andie.'

They sat in silence. Andie's throat was aching, but she was not going to cry in front of him.

‘Look, I'm expected,' Ross said eventually. ‘You don't have to come. You take the car, I'll get a cab home later.'

Joanna walked around the terrace, picking up empty glasses, the odd cake plate, and placing them on a tray, slowly and deliberately taking her time. She glanced intermittently towards the house, watching Ross wandering around the empty rooms, the other guests having taken their leave a while ago now. He obviously didn't regard himself as a guest, even though this was Joanna's house and he'd never lived here. But he'd lingered on, talking to the kids, until Lauren and James left to get the baby home and settled, Matty went off to meet up with some friends, and Brooke had finally disappeared up to her room. What was he doing hanging around? When was he going to get the hint and just go home?

He finally meandered over to the drinks cabinet and reached for the Scotch bottle. Joanna groaned, picking up the tray and making her way inside.

‘Oh, do you want a hand with that?' he asked, as she walked across to the kitchen.

‘No, got it, thanks,' she said, depositing the tray on the bench.

‘I was just helping myself to a drink,' he added.

So she'd noticed.

‘Can I get you one?'

‘No thanks,' she said, as she began to clear the tray. ‘Shouldn't you be getting home, you said Andie had a headache?'

‘Then no reason to be rushing home,' he said with a grin.

Inappropriate, Ross. Joanna sighed inwardly.

He strolled over and leaned against the bench, watching her stack the dishwasher. ‘I suppose you guessed that Andie and I had words?'

No, she hadn't guessed. Surprise as it might be to Ross, what went on between him and Andie was not actually at the forefront of her mind.

‘In the car, on the way here,' he said. ‘You know, after the church.'

‘Hm.'

Was he waiting for her to ask what happened? Seriously?

‘Andie wants a baby.'

Joanna paused, holding a dish midair. Now she needed a drink.

‘She never wanted one before,' Ross continued, uninvited. ‘In fact, she was the one who insisted we not have kids.'

Joanna resumed stacking the dishwasher. She knew she was only going to get one side of this. And that was one more side than she cared to have. ‘I would have thought that would be okay with you, Andie not wanting kids.'

‘Yeah, of course, I've had my kids. So I was kind of glad that she felt that way.'

Why Ross imagined Joanna wanted to hear any of this was beyond her. Part of his incessantly self-absorbed charm, she supposed. It had been such a relief once Matty had finished school, when there was no more negotiating weekends and holidays and child support and all the rest. The kids had their own relationship with him now, made their own plans, Joanna kept out of it. She had lost a lot of respect for Ross during the split, some of the things he had done were frankly unforgivable. But she had largely put all that behind her, for the sake of the children, and for the sake of peace. Once the divorce was final and the property was settled and there was nothing left to haggle over, Joanna had made a concerted effort to get along. But she really didn't think that meant having to counsel Ross on his relationship woes.

‘Now I'm a grandfather,' he went on, oblivious, ‘having another baby is the last thing on my mind.'

‘Have you told Andie that?' She was, after all, the one he should be talking to.

‘Of course,' he said. ‘But I'm also trying to be understanding. You want to know what I really think?'

No, but he was going to tell her anyway.

‘I think she's just restless, doesn't know what to do with herself next.'

Joanna looked at him. ‘She wants to give up the shop?'

‘Well, not that she's said in so many words. But, if she wants a baby, she can't be too interested in running a business.'

‘God, Ross, you sound like a caveman.'

He blinked. ‘What?'

‘You deal with women who run multinational corporations, I assume some of them have children?'

‘It's not the same thing,' he defended. ‘Andie's never said anything about wanting kids, never been interested. And she has tended to flitter around trying out different things. It just feels to me like a baby is the next whim.'

Joanna shook her head. ‘I sincerely hope you think better of her than that.'

He looked vaguely uncomfortable.

‘Ross, it's not unusual for a woman to get to a certain age and have maternal urges she hasn't had before. She couldn't have known in her twenties that she'd want to have a baby ten years later.'

‘But she made an agreement.'

‘Well, so? You made an agreement to stay with me till death do us part.'

He winced. ‘Joanna . . .'

‘All I'm saying is that people change, Ross. They break “agreements”, they change their minds, they want different things.'

‘So you think we should have a baby?'

Good grief, heaven forbid. ‘Ross, it's actually none of my business,' said Joanna. ‘I'm just saying that you shouldn't dismiss Andie's desire for a baby like that. It isn't fair. She gave up a lot for you . . . her career . . .'

‘I gave up a lot for her.'

Joanna sighed. She really needed a drink now. She crossed to the fridge.

‘Well I did,' he persisted. ‘You think it was easy for me to walk away from my family?'

‘No one was forcing you, Ross.'

‘I know that, I'm just saying . . .'

She picked up a bottle of wine and turned to look at him, leaning back against the fridge door to close it. ‘Look, Ross, you really should be having this conversation with Andie, not me.'

‘Trying to get rid of me, much?'

When did he start talking like that? What had he said about the baby earlier, that she was ‘chilled'? He wasn't around the kids enough to be picking it up from them.

‘So you think I should encourage her to go back to her career?' he was saying.

Joanna poured herself a glass of wine. ‘I don't really have an opinion, Ross,' she said wearily. ‘I don't know Andie all that well. I don't know what she wants. Maybe you should ask her.' She threw back half the glass.

‘I guess though, if she had some goals . . .' he muttered half to himself. ‘Something more fulfilling to work towards.' He looked up with a broad smile. ‘It certainly gave you a new lease on life when you went back to work after we split.'

Joanna drained the rest of her glass. ‘So, I'll call you a cab?'

‘Sorry to make you wait back,' said Andie as she came through the door, setting off the bell.

‘Are you kidding?' Jess exclaimed. ‘We haven't caught up in ages. I even ducked out and bought some wine earlier,' she added.

Andie smiled. ‘I brought some too.' She stood a cooler bag on the counter and drew out a bottle.

‘Ooh champagne,' Jess cooed, inspecting the label. ‘And the good stuff. What's going on? Are we celebrating something?'

‘I hope so,' said Andie.

‘You're pregnant?' Jess gasped.

Andie ignored the faint pang she felt in her heart. ‘Would I be drinking champagne?' she said.

‘Hm, good point. And it would have been pretty quick,' said Jess, ‘seeing as last I heard, Ross hadn't even agreed to it.'

Andie tore the foil away from the neck of the bottle and changed the subject. ‘So, here's the thing,' she said, popping the cork. ‘I am going back to work . . . as a chef . . . in a restaurant!'

She watched Jess's face for signs of excitement, something. But she just looked confused.

‘What?'

‘I'm going to be a chef again,' said Andie as she poured the champagne into flutes she had brought with her from home. She handed Jess a glass and held up her own in a toast. ‘Shall we drink to it?'

‘But I don't understand exactly what we're drinking to.'

‘My new career, or my reincarnated one, I should probably say.' Andie was still holding her glass up, looking at Jess expectantly. ‘What's wrong?'

She sighed loudly. ‘Oh, I'm happy for you, really, I am, Andie, I'm just being selfish. I mean, I understand, I do, I know you haven't been all that interested in the shop for a while, it hasn't been exactly fulfilling, so I'm glad really, I am genuinely happy for you, couldn't be happier. I just . . . well, it's completely selfish, me expecting this place to just be here forever, so I've got work whenever I want it —'

‘Jess —'

‘I've even daydreamed about taking over when you did have a baby, you know, just temporarily, so you could have maternity leave without worrying about the place. But I'm jumping the gun —'

‘You think?'

Jess finally looked at Andie, taking a breath. ‘It's just sometimes I get tired of always stepping into someone else's role, never being able to do my own thing.'

The casual arrangement she'd enjoyed at the shop had allowed Jess to build up a solid, varied résumé over the years, and she had a good reputation in the industry as an experienced, reliable chef. But she wasn't a star, she didn't have a name, she wasn't exactly sought after. She had got by the last few years mostly standing in for staff who were on leave – a three-month stint here, a regular weekend gig there. She had occasionally been given head chef duties at small but respected restaurants, when the owner-chef took a night off and needed someone with enough experience to run the restaurant in his absence. But if she wanted to work full-time as a chef, the only recourse left to her now was to open her own place. But she didn't have the money, and as there were more restaurants closing than opening, she wouldn't have a hope of getting financed.

‘Well, this is perfect,' Andie was saying.

‘What are you talking about?'

‘You may just get the chance to do your own thing, because I wanted to ask you if you'd be interested in taking over here.'

Jess blinked. ‘What?'

‘If I'm working in a restaurant, I can't give enough time to this place, I need someone to manage it for me.'

‘You're not going to sell it?'

‘No, of course not.'

Jess let out a loud sigh. ‘Well, that's a relief. I'll totally drink to that,' she added, raising her glass to clink it against Andie's.

‘It's about time,' said Andie. ‘I was getting RSI holding my glass up.'

‘Okay, so tell me the whole story. You're going back to being a chef?'

‘It's probably more accurate to say that I'm starting over,' said Andie. ‘All I ever did was work in a few of those horrible club kitchens, remember, right after we graduated? When I was at Lemongrass, I used to stand watching them in the kitchen sometimes, breathing in the wonderful smells, feeling the nervous energy, aching to dive in and be part of it . . .'

‘I hate to put a dampener on it, but it's not all it's cut out to be,' said Jess. ‘The hours are long, the work is backbreakingly hard. All these celebrity chef shows have made people think it's glamorous, but it's not.'

Andie had folded her arms while she waited for Jess to finish. ‘Allow me to introduce myself, I believe we did our training together, as chefs?'

‘Sorry.'

‘Come on, Jess, I'm not jumping on the latest bandwagon. You know I've wanted to do this since I was a girl.'

‘I know, but you still have to be realistic. It's hard enough for me to get regular work, and I've kept my hand in all these years. There aren't that many opportunities out there. At least not in the really good places.'

‘I realise, but I'll be going in at entry level, for one thing.' She hesitated before adding, ‘And Ross has contacts, he's sure he can find me something.'

Jess blinked. ‘Ross is going to help you get a job in a restaurant?'

‘I know, isn't it great?' said Andie.

‘But he's never been keen about you working nights, the whole deal.'

‘And he's realised how selfish he's been. Isn't that great?' she repeated, topping up their glasses.

Jess narrowed her gaze. ‘Andie, tell me the truth, is this some kind of consolation prize? Ross'll let you work in a restaurant if you drop the baby idea?'

‘Jess,' she chided, ‘I dropped the baby idea all on my own.'

‘You did?'

Andie nodded. ‘We were at the christening yesterday —'

‘Oh, that's right,' said Jess. ‘Wow, must have been some christening to put you off having a baby.'

Andie smiled. ‘No, it was a perfectly nice christening. But I was watching Ross, holding his grandchild. His
grandchild
. And he looked like a granddad – I don't mean he looked old, there was just a . . . a generational thing, I guess you'd call it. His kids are adults now, his baby days are over. I don't think it's fair to ask him to go back to that.'

‘But what about what's fair to you?'

‘Well, Jess, the problem is, it takes two people to make a baby,' she said. ‘And I'm the one who changed my mind. You might think he's being selfish, but I'm being just as selfish expecting him to switch suddenly. Admit it, Jess, if this situation was reversed, you would be totally on my side.'

‘I'd be totally on your side whatever.'

Andie smiled then. ‘I know, and you should realise that sometimes, and give Ross a break.'

‘Oh, if I must,' Jess sighed dramatically, a glint in her eye. ‘I just hope you're really okay with this. I don't get the whole baby craving thing myself, but you seemed to have it pretty bad.'

‘You haven't ever felt even a slight flutter?' Andie asked her.

‘God help me, no,' she said, draining her glass.

‘What if the right guy came along?'

‘One who can ejaculate, you mean?' said Jess. ‘Most of them seem to be able to manage that without too much trouble.'

Andie grinned. ‘I mean, someone you could see yourself having a child with,' she clarified.

‘I can't see myself with a child, whether or not there's a bloke around has little to do with it.'

‘You feel that strongly?'

Jess nodded. ‘Look at Donna, she's constantly on a short leash, everything revolves around Max. And don't get me wrong, that's great for her and Toby, if that's what they want. But I enjoy my freedom too much . . . staying out late, sleeping in late, going out for a coffee because I feel like a coffee, not because it fits around the sleep cycle of a three-year-old.' She shrugged. ‘Maybe I'm just selfish, I don't know.'

‘It's not selfish to know what you want,' said Andie. ‘It's smart. You know, the catchcry these days is that you can have it all, but you can't. Something or someone always misses out. I could probably guilt or harass Ross into having a baby with me, and then he'd be unhappy. I do really want a baby, but a lot of women really want babies and can't have them. Either they don't have a partner, or they have fertility issues . . . For Ross and me it's a timing problem. It isn't his fault, and he's always been one hundred per cent honest about it.'

‘I suppose,' Jess muttered.

‘The thing is, I could spend the next part of my life feeling sad and bereft that I can't have a baby, or I can get on with my life, and do the next best thing. Fulfil a dream I've had since I was a girl.'

‘Fair enough, but I'm still wondering how you talked Ross into it.'

‘I didn't have to, he jumped at the idea. He was so enthusiastic, I was shocked, to be honest,' said Andie. ‘Apparently he got talking to Joanna after everyone had left, and she really stood up for me, according to Ross.'

Jess frowned. ‘Why did she have to stand up for you?'

Andie had felt slightly uncomfortable about that at first, but she was rather pleased that Joanna had stood up for her, the way Ross explained it. He was so worried about her that he'd ended up confiding in Joanna after everyone had left. He said she told him that she had come to realise what a mistake she had made giving up her career for the family, even going so far as to suggest, according to Ross, that perhaps she'd stagnated a bit, as a housewife, and that she'd never felt so fulfilled as she did now. Ross said he hadn't been able to stop thinking about it all the way home, how much Andie had given up for him, how essentially selfish it had been for him to expect her to fit in around his life and his work.

‘But you do know what being a chef means,' Andie had said to him. ‘We'll hardly see each other.'

‘Maybe it's time I started fitting in around you,' he had returned. ‘I could go to the office a little later some mornings, we could have breakfast together. We could make Sundays our exclusive day for each other. We can make it work, Andie.'

Jess had filled a plate with antipasto as she spoke and she set it down in front of Andie.

‘Thanks, it looks wonderful,' she said, gazing at the glistening olives, the wedge of creamy brie, the red bell peppers stuffed with mascarpone, her favourite. ‘I know I shouldn't complain, I get to work around food everyday, but it's not the same. Sometimes I feel . . . I don't know, like an artist surrounded by all these gorgeous tubes of paint, every colour I can imagine, but I never get to paint, I'm too busy sorting and selling the tubes. I look at all the produce as it comes in, as I'm spooning it out into the dishes, or slicing it up, and all the time I'm thinking of the possibilities. Customers tell me what they're going to cook, or what they did cook, and I'm envious . . . but what am I going to do? How much can I cook for Ross and me? It's frustrating.'

‘So you're going off to become a Picasso in the kitchen?' said Jess, smearing some cheese onto a cracker.

Andie smiled. ‘Well, that all depends on you.'

Jess looked at her.

‘Listen, we have enough casual staff, you can still choose your hours. I just need someone I can trust to manage the place so I don't have to think about it. And I'll put you on a retainer, you'll have a regular income above and beyond the hours you do at the shop. And look, seriously, it's your show, you have my blessing to do whatever you want with it.'

‘You realise you're making an offer too good to refuse,' said Jess.

‘That's what I was hoping.'