Melvina woke the next morning with a massive Xanax hangover. Not the pounding headache and upset stomach brought on by too much alcohol, but the sluggish, listless, can’t-wake-up feeling that only a strong drug can trigger. She didn’t feel hungover from the alcohol because in truth, she hadn’t imbibed that much. The sedative, on the other hand, had hit her hard, and she had to hit the snooze five times that morning before finally making herself roll out of bed. Pop’s Café wasn’t going to open itself. She’d taken over the early shift for her father twenty years ago while attending the local college.
She’d had little interest in any other career besides baking, but she loved to read, so she got a Bachelor of Arts in English and then continued working for her father. No one else in the family had ever attended University. Afterward, she thought the degree was pointless, but it motivated her to volunteer at the library and start a literacy campaign in their community.
Houston was the fourth largest city in America, and Magnolia was near enough to draw the overflow of multicultural residents. It was best for everyone in the small town if the citizens could communicate. She tried to stay out of the politics of residency. People were people no matter what color or where they came from. Everyone had the same basic needs—a roof over their heads, food for their families, acceptance and support from others. She found, in her experience, that if people were treated well, they acted well in return, and that made the community stronger.
The phone alarm went off again as she stood in the shower, letting the hot water run over her groggy body. “For the love of God,” she grumbled, shutting off the water and grabbing her towel from the rack. Melvina moved slowly for fear of repeating yesterday’s fiasco. Amazed, she acknowledged that her back felt much better than last night. Maybe Mona was right. Who would have thought Xanax for an injury? Could stress be the real cause for hurting her back?
I need a vacation.
She would talk to Pop about it over brunch on Sunday. Eli would be there and maybe he wouldn’t mind helping out for a week. Melvina had seen a spa retreat advertisement in a magazine at the library. She desperately needed a massage. She’d search Groupon and find a good price within her budget.
Turning the alarm off, she stared at the disaster she’d made of her room. Piles of clothes littered the floor, shoes spilled from the closet, and undergarments lay scattered over the dresser. She needed a maid. It wasn’t usually this bad, but housework wasn’t her forte. Spotting her purse on the floor, she winced. It was bad luck to leave your purse on the floor—a sure thing her money would be running away from her this week.
Hm, maybe that’s a good thing.
Hadn’t she thought about going on vacation? Spas cost money and so did fancy beach resorts with fruity cocktails—okay, vodka martinis or something with fewer calories. Melvina shook herself out of her daydream.
You don’t have fancy resort money, Melvina, so stop thinking about it.
Keys, keys, where did she put her keys?
After searching the whole house twice, she remembered Mona had driven her home, so she called Mona.
A husky male voice answered, “Hello? Oh, sorry, I think this is your phone. Mine’s over there. Here sweetheart.” Blurry images flashed across the screen as the man set the phone down. Then another kind of flash—of the man’s naked behind as he got up out of bed and walked away. It wasn’t her preference to video chat, but since Mona always video-called her, Melvina hit the redial button from the last time they spoke. Suddenly Mona’s face filled the screen.
Mascara smeared the area beneath Mona’s eyes and her lips looked like she had swiped her lipstick off with a sander. “Melvina?”
“Uh-yeah. Who was that?”
Mona’s face went from guilt to excitement in two seconds flat. “You didn’t recognize that perfect behind?” Peals of laughter exploded from Mona’s smeared lips. She tried to cover her mouth to suppress the outburst.
“It’s Jorden!” she whisper-squealed.
The male voice responded to Mona’s statement. “I’ll be out in just a minute.”
Melvina gasped with shock, covering her own mouth, then shaking her head. “You go, girl.”
“Melvina, sweetie, I gotta go. I’ll come by the café later so we can gossip,” Mona stage-whispered before clicking off the phone.
Melvina gave a little whistle at her friend’s fast moves. Mona had most likely driven Melvina’s car back to the hotel to pick up her own vehicle. That’s probably when Mona ran into Jorden again—or scouted him out like an eight-point buck during hunting season.
Melvina called Eli, promising him extra gluten-free crunchies for his salads this week if he could get her to work on time.
Regaling Eli with the comedy of errors of the previous evening, Melvina couldn’t help but chuckle as he guffawed, slapping the steering wheel of his Jeep as they pulled up to the café.
“It’s not funny,” she snorted, and they both fell into giggles.
“Oh, it most certainly is.” He shook his head as tears of laughter filled his eyes.
“I screwed up my meeting with one of the most renowned chefs that I really wanted to impress. He already knew about my cupcakes. Pitching my business plan could have been a no-brainer and he might have even helped back me, or at the very least, given me some pointers on how he became such a success. Instead, I made a fool of myself in front of the entire town and Celia.” She blew out a breath. “I don’t even want to think of what I’ll say to her.”
Eli wrapped his arm around Melvina and pulled her in for a side hug. “It’ll be okay, Mel. Don’t hang your head. Just smile and tell the world that you make the best baked goods in the South. Not many people can boast that they do all the good things that you do.”
Melvina touched her head to his. “Thanks Eli.” Her little brother was her rock in times like these and supported her even when she made of muck of things. She got out of the car and waved as Eli drove out of the parking lot.
Putting herself in baking mode was just what she needed. It would help her forget the calamity and concentrate on better things, like the upcoming literacy class she would be teaching. Maurice Salas was making progress and that made her feel good. If she could help him finish the sixth grade, she could work with him over the summer to prepare him for the seventh.
One day at a time.
She always told her students to focus on the moment and to be patient for things to come. Well, now she would take her own advice and focus on muffins instead of mayhem.
Melvina tried to keep a low profile, hiding in the kitchen for most of the breakfast rush. She escaped Celia’s morning dash for an Americano and a no-fat cran-orange muffin. Melvina had secretly fantasized about stuffing it with one of Mona’s Pez dispenser pills. Maybe that would let Celia’s sphincter relax enough so that stick would fall out. Melvina giggled to herself as she took out the latest batch of cakes from the oven to cool on wire racks. It was Darcey’s turn for a lunch break and there was no getting around manning the cash register. Dutifully calling out to the young waitress, Melvina reminded her to put her order in and take a break.
“I don’t know what I want today, Melvina. Just whip up something good without too many calories.” Darcey weighed about a hundred and ten pounds wet and lived off pizza and nachos as far as Melvina knew. She mentally rolled her eyes when the slim waitress complained about being too heavy while sipping Pepsi Cola and snacking on buttered bread.
“There ain’t no such thing,” Melvina wagged her finger at her. “Now get your skinny butt on break before I come sit on you.”
Darcey bobbed up on her red patent leather pumps, leaning low over the counter in front of the fire chief. “I know you’re just playin’ Mel. You aren’t fat no more.” Darcey spun around, twirling her long, honey-blonde braid as she popped her bubble gum. “You’re lookin’ downright hot! Watch out Chief, this woman might just steal your heart.”
Melvina tried to hold onto a smile as the heat crept up her face. She was used to the twenty-year-old’s nonsensical talk and lack of manners or boundaries, but of all people, why did it have to be Manny that she went loose-tongued on? The look Melvina gave Darcey must have said it all. “Okay, okay. I’m going to punch out. I’ll just snag a burger off the line. There’s always extra fries.” The slender blonde sashayed to the back, swinging her hips for the chief and the two firefighters who accompanied him.
“Sorry boys, she’ll be back in thirty minutes. Anybody want fresh pie? I made apple and cherry this morning, and the cupcakes just came out of the oven half an hour ago.” They all nodded eagerly and Melvina relaxed. She didn’t know how Manny fared after the chocola-tastrophe, or if he saw her toss her cookies on Celia, but she’d bet her Jimmy Choo shoes that he’d found out about her mishaps. She pushed her shoulders back as she poured them another round of coffee, and then went to fix their desserts. She boxed up an extra dozen cupcakes for the men back at the station, showing her appreciation for the dedication to their job in baked treats and smiles.
As she rang up their checks, discounting their meals fifty percent and taking off the desserts and coffee completely, Manny fussed at her generosity. “Melvina, we have been over this before. This is a small town, and you feed us well all the time. You need to charge us for at least the lunches that we get most every day. We don’t want you going out of business on account of eating you out of house and home.”
“Don’t you worry about business at Pop’s,” she said, with a flick of her hand. “We have it all under control. Besides, the boys tip generously and I appreciate it. Maybe Darcey will be able to afford…a new car soon.” She had wanted to say etiquette classes, but the bright yellow car with the orange bumpers jumped to mind, saving her from sounding sore.
Manny smiled, taking the change she offered with the extra box of cakes. “I know Celia was in a huff last night, but don’t mind her. Everyone has accidents.” He winked as he turned to follow his men, then looked back as he closed the distance to the door. “But Darcey’s right, you are looking hot.” And with that, he let the door swing closed, the bell dinging hard against the glass.
Melvina tried not to melt into a puddle at the register. She already knew she looked like a gaping fool as the large man in overalls who wore a Texans hat stared at her holding his tab, then waved a ten-dollar bill in her face. She felt an elbow in her side as Darcey slid in front of her, taking the man’s check and punching the keys on the old-time register. Melvina stepped back, mopping at her forehead with a napkin.
“I see you still haven’t recovered from last night’s fiasco, Melvina, or is that a hot flash you’re having?” Melvina looked up to see Celia towering over the counter, hearing her tap her four-inch stilettos.
“Well there does seem to be a lot of hot air in here.”
Celia dodged the dig, sliding into the nearest seat at the counter. “That’s the heat rolling off the fire chief and his men,” she tittered and glanced around as though waiting for others to join in. Darcey was oddly silent, filling sugar dispensers and clanging salt and pepper shakers around on the half-moon bar. The saucy twenty-year-old went up a notch in Melvina’s book.
In spite of Celia’s attempt at humor, Melvina could tell that she had something more on her mind. She hoped it wouldn’t spill out on her as Celia pulled a thick a ream of papers from her tote. She pushed them toward Melvina. “We have a lot of work to do. The Magnolia Blossoms got a letter from the IRS informing us that the balance sheet for last year is off, so I need you to recheck these figures before the meeting with them tomorrow at noon.
“What? I don’t think that’s even possible, and I’m not getting out of here until after five. Pop is doing inventory until then.” Melvina tried not to let her head spin. When Celia got something on her mind, she wanted it done as soon as possible, but it didn’t always mean that it was needed right away. The chocola-tastrophe must have her digging for rare and cruel forms of punishment. “Celia, I doubt that the IRS would only give you one day to have these figures re-tallied.”
“Oh, you are right about that, but remember that day you asked me to donate the paper for the literacy thing?”
Melvina nodded. “That was last month.”
“Well I accidently laid the letter from the IRS in the stack that I donated, and your librarian friend delivered it back to me this morning. It’s due back today actually, but I set an appointment with their auditor tomorrow, explaining you were busy today. Since you are the treasurer, it’s your job.” Celia paused with a cat-like smile, “Oh honey, I did you a big favor. At least you don’t have to meet with them until tomorrow.”
“Me?” Melvina gaped.
Celia stood, her purse knocking over the creamer that Darcey had just filled. “Oh, don’t cry over spilled milk.” She laughed. “It’s not like the Magnolia Blossoms have any real wealth for them to find error with. We are a charitable women’s club. Everything we do is a tax write-off. I’m sure you’ll figure out where you messed up—eventually.”
Melvina could feel the heat rolling off in waves. She was gripping the end of her apron with both hands to prevent giving Celia a middle-finger salute as the Blossom president made her way to the exit.
“Why do you let that old biddy get to you?” Darcey smacked her gum and blew a large pink bubble from candy-colored lips.
“She’s younger than me, darlin’. And as much as I hate to admit it, I am the treasurer and somehow, something must have gone wrong.” Melvina hadn’t prepared the tax reports for the Magnolia Blossoms but had taken them to the accountant they had used for the last couple of decades. He had never made a mistake before, so Melvina couldn’t imagine what could have happened this time. It was her job to find out. She plucked the cell phone out of her apron pocket and dialed Stanley Goldstein to see if he could meet with her that evening.
The clang of the bell over the door made Melvina look up just in time to see Riley Nash enter the café. He looked around, surveying the diner counter and the other seating options. Darcey took that moment to disappear. Melvina grabbed a menu and smiled at Riley while listening to Stan on the phone. She couldn’t help wondering how much the handsome chef knew of the disaster she’d made of the rest of the evening. It was everything she could do not to relive the events over and over in her head.
“Coffee?” She held up the pot while continuing to talk with Stan. “Yes, that’ll be great, yeah. Okay, awesome possum.” Melvina put the phone in her pocket and looked at Riley, wondering why he hadn’t answered. Raising one eyebrow, she tilted her head at the coffeepot she was holding and turned over a cup with her free hand.
He smiled, nodding his head. “I thought you asked and answered. Not sure if there was any other choice.”
Melvina retraced her side of the conversation with Stan, agreeing to meet him at the café in a couple of hours. “Sorry, I was just on the phone with the tax man.”
Riley’s whiskey colored eyes bulged in horror. “By all means, you are forgiven. I get chills just hearing that three-letter word.”
“IRS or tax?” Melvina quipped.
“Both! Please stop, you’re making my skin crawl.” He rubbed his arms for effect.
Melvina laughed, “I don’t think we’re in all that much trouble, but you just missed Celia Lockwood strolling in here to dump the Women’s League tax problems on me with less than twenty-four hours to decipher the issue,” she groaned.
He pushed the cup forward, reminding Melvina to pour. “That bad, huh? I saw her getting into her little red Beamer as I pulled in, but I waited until she cleared the parking lot before I got out.” He grinned.
“Smart man,” Darcey tossed out as she whizzed by carrying a tray laden with piping hot burgers and fries to a table of men in construction vests.
“I sure like the looks of that. Hook me up.”
Melvina’s heart twisted. Riley was closer to her age than Darcey’s, but men of all ages liked twenty-something twigs with long legs and long blonde hair. Melvina at least had the blonde thing going for her. “I think she will be happier if you make your play for a date in person.”
Riley gaped at her for a moment. “What? No, not her! I meant the double bacon hamburger with what looked like a mound of cheese, avocado, and was that a charred jalapeno I saw cresting the edge of the plate?”
A sizzle of heat zapped through her body—similar to the reaction she’d had when he’d taken her in his arms at the ball. His sexy smile and gorgeous body didn’t give him away as a chef. He looked more like one of the firemen from the station—a very fit, hot fireman. But she loved that he appreciated a good meal. “It’s our Smokin’ Hot Jalapeno Firehouse Burger. The firefighters love it, and most everyone else around here does too. If you want it totally Texas style, we can throw a slab of brisket on top.”
His white teeth flashed a sultry smile. “I just love Texas. Let’s do it!” Riley winked.
Melvina’s face warmed with pleasure as she went into the kitchen to prepare his order. When it came to all things culinary, baking was at the top of her list, but she’d come up with the burger when she was back in high school. She’d tested her recipe out on Eli, and he’d been a willing guinea pig. Turns out, he couldn’t get enough of the specialty burger. Eli played on the high school football team and brought the guys in to Pop’s Café after every game. It became a regular menu item. The home-cut waffle fries were nice and crispy, and everyone raved about her homemade Jalapeno ketchup.
When Melvina brought Riley’s order out, Darcey was chatting with him. Seated next to Riley was his brother, who played in the band. Melvina liked their sound, at least what she heard of it before she got sick and had to leave. She regretted not being able to enjoy the music for even a short while.
Melvina nodded a polite hello, set Riley’s plate down, and slipped away before he could engage her in conversation. With Darcey chatting, no one seemed to notice her coming or going. It appeared the sexy chef did indeed like the eye candy that Darcey supplied.
Melvina walked back to the employees’ restroom and shut the door to lean back on its cold metal surface. She would let Darcey take over and get Ran’s order. She remembered the name because she had written the check for the band yesterday afternoon from the Magnolia Blossoms’ account. At least she wouldn’t have to double-check that until next year’s return.
She stood in front of the mirror studying her reflection with a critical glare. Sure, she had lost the weight and yes, she had good hair, but the crow’s-feet at the corners of her eyes and the lines around the sides of her mouth were visible from all the years of smiling for customers and laughing at Eli’s jokes. Her breasts were full and her hips a little too wide, but her waist had downsized enough to make her curvy. With the right dress, makeup, and lighting, she could be Rayna Louise Banks. Men had always drooled over Rayna….
Why don’t I have that same effect?
She turned from side to side, pushing a wayward lock of hair back into the ponytail she was sporting. Pulling a tube of lipstick from her apron, she dabbed a bit on her lips, taking care not to make it look too fresh. She wanted to look nice, but not like she was trying too hard. This was her chance to talk to one of the country’s hottest chefs.
Get your bum out there and network.
She had dreams, and she needed backing, advice and inspiration. So what if he wasn’t attracted to her? You didn’t have to be attracted to a person to speak to them. They were kindred cooking spirits and shared the same love of food. The way he had salivated over the sight of the plates coming out of the kitchen gave her the gumption to go back. Those dishes were her creations. Striding through the double kitchen doors and out into the diner, Melvina made a bee-line to the counter. Only Ran was there.
Staring down at him with a blank look, Melvina asked, “Everything okay?”
Wiping his mouth with a well-used napkin, he shook his head and moaned. “That was the best burger I have ever had.”
Ran was better looking than his brother, but too pretty for her taste. It was still hard to be in the presence of such a perfect-looking man while he was praising her food. Hiding her disappointment, she began to clear away plates and wipe down the counter.
Ran must have noticed her discomfort. “Riley had to run,” he said as he caught her eye. “He got a phone call from Braised. Apparently, there was a kitchen fire at the restaurant, but Raphe’s on the scene, so it should all be fine.”
“Is that the fireman brother?”
“Yep.” Taking his napkin and wiping his mouth one last time, he stood. He laid two twenties on the table and returned his Monte Blanc polished leather wallet to his pocket.
“That’s too much. Let me get you some change,” Melvina insisted.
“Keep the change for you and Darcey. You both deserve it. We’ll be back. I promise.”
“Thank you.” Melvina watched him leave through the double glass door with a single hand in the air. The backward wave was as casual as the man. Ran took the helmet from his bike and threw one leg over before revving the engine. Darcey made a false swoon and moaned just behind her as Melvina wiped down a table.
“What I would do for a man like that.” Darcey fanned herself.
Melvina laughed good-naturedly. “It’s Friday night, young lady. You better start thinking about rolling silverware and getting off before five to go home and get ready for your date with Lance.”
Darcey lingered at the counter a beat longer before spinning on her heel and disappearing into the kitchen.
