Page 14 of Vincent
She had transformed one of the bedrooms into an office. Her brother's contribution had been a combination fax and Xerox machine that sent and received emails as well. She was supplying uptown bakeries and five-star hotels, and making delightful treats for the Mayor and his friends.
She was also called on to make treats for weddings and high society functions. Kelly Takahashi had called on her in person to discuss a long-term contract for her restaurants. She had her hands full. And she loved every minute of it.
What was even better was the fact that she was in her own home. She was not a slave to the clock or to locking up and opening every day. She could get up wearing her skimpy PJs, becausewho needed a full nightgown? She could get up when inspiration struck and concoct something.
It was truly a blessing.
Mrs. Bennett came in quietly at seven thirty and made her own magic with the paperwork, the phone calls, and anything administrative. She had thanked her brother by baking him something delectable. He would pop on over on his way from the firm on the pretext that he was keeping an eye on her. He had also procured a lawyer from his firm for her to deal with the legalities of the business and had secured an accountant. A reputable one. She had a business, she thought giddily.
Taking a deep breath, she stared at the note in her hand. It was from Jacklyn. She had promised to send her some business, and she was coming through. Althea was going to be baking up a storm this coming Saturday for a dinner party at their home.
A dinner party which included Vincent. She had asked Jacklyn not to say a word to him. She wanted it to be a surprise. The phone rang. It rang incessantly! Ignoring it and knowing that Mrs. Bennett would take care of whatever it was, she turned back to her sauce.
*****
"Something smells heavenly. Mrs. Groves, what are you whipping up?" His voice petered off as he stepped through the arched doorway of the enormous kitchen and saw her standing around the granite counter. "You're not Mrs. Groves."
"I should hope not." Her mahogany eyes sparkled with laughter, before zeroing in on an exact replica of Vincent. "You must be David." She moved from around the counter to cross the room. Crouching down in front of the child, she held out a hand. "My name is Althea; people call me Thea. I'm a friend of your dad's."
He stared at her with enormous silver-gray eyes and captured her heart. "I brought my dinosaur; his name is Speckles."
"Cute name. Your grandmother told me you were stopping by on your way to a sleepover, and I made you cookies."
His eyes widened and he let go of his dad's hand to take hers as she rose.
"Is it chocolate chips?" he asked hopefully as she led him over to the counter.
"With peanut butter." She hoisted him up on a stool and went back to rescue her sauce. "Of course. Want to sample one?"
He turned eager and hopeful eyes to the man who was standing silently, watching the tableau in front of him. He had no idea why his heart did a slow dive when he first came in and saw her. She was wearing faded denims with a coral pink sweater and the usual earrings dangling at her lobes. And she had on an apron that was now smudged. She was here. He had meant to call her but had been putting it off.
"Can I, Daddy?"
"May I," he corrected automatically and came further into the room. "And Ms. Thea is busy. We don't want you spoiling your appetite."
"Please?"
"Yes, Daddy, please?"
A reluctant smile tugged at his lips at her entrancing look as she mimicked his son.
"Fine."
"Great." She picked up the cooling pan and slid two cookies off the tray, handing them to the little boy. "Okay, you're going to give me your very honest opinion and tell me what you think."
Leaning against the counter, Vincent watched as she propped her chin on her folded hands and gave his son her rapt attention. It did not feel strange to have her interact with his son. In fact, it felt right.
David took a big bite of the warm cookie and his eyes popped wide open. "It's so good!"
"Don't talk with your mouth full," his father chided him gently.
"Taste, Daddy."
"I don't-" That was as far as he got. To his shocked surprise, he was told to open his mouth by the petite woman behind the counter. Reflexively doing just that, he found himself chewing on a cookie that had his taste buds doing a dance.
"It's even better than the ones you made when we were kids," he admitted.
"Naturally." She grinned at him. "I've improved since then."
