Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
They all waited with bated breath for Ava to take her first bite. She closed her eyes again, savored in exactly the same way she’d savored the sand dabs, ending with a hum in her throat. Then she looked at Honorine. “It’s one of the most delicious desserts I’ve ever tasted.” Her eyes bright, she glanced at Ransom, then Honorine. “Do you think we can add this to our menus? Probably just for a special occasion, like Christmas.”
He wanted to cover her hand with his, and he might have if Honorine hadn’t been hovering. “I can see your servers carrying out flaming plates to every table. Your residents will love it.”
Honorine’s face glowed with pride. “It would be my very great pleasure to provide the recipe.”
When they were once again alone, he leaned forward to say softly, “Thank you. You honored her with that request.”
After another bite, Ava said, “This deserves honor. It’s not your creation?”
He shook his head. “No. Honorine is free to use my signature dishes or create anything she’d like.” And indeed, the hot chocolate pudding was delicious.
She blinked. “You don’t even taste-test beforehand?”
“I trust her.”
For a moment, she seemed dumbfounded. “But she’s a woman.”
With an imperceptible movement of his head, he said, “She’s a chef. Trained at Le Cordon Bleu.”
Something shone brilliantly in Ava’s eyes, as if he’d said just the right thing.
“She comes to me, we bounce ideas around, she uses some of my signature recipes, like the sand dabs, and creates many of her own straight from her heart.”
“Do you do that with all your chefs? Let them have free rein?”
“I might own the restaurants, but they own the kitchen. It would do them a disservice to limit them to a menu only I chose.”
She looked down then. As if she didn’t want him to see the expression in her eyes, she concentrated on the hot chocolate pudding.
But he thought that might have been admiration in her gaze.
* * *
The meal suddenly seemed too intimate. The best sand dabs she’d ever had, the candles, the rose, the flaming dessert, and his admiration for Honorine’s talents and willingness to use them—it was all too much.
More than anything, Ava wanted to lean over the dessert plate and kiss the chocolate off his lips.
God, yes, it was all too much. She was almost dizzy with need. If she wasn’t careful, she’d act on it. That meant she needed to get out of here. Before she threw herself at him.
As if she’d conjured it, her phone rang in her purse. She grabbed it like a lifeline. “Sorry, I need to take this. It could be an emergency.”
The voice on the line was the bucket of cold water she badly needed. “It’s Campbell from Los Gatos.”
Then she heard the concern in the man’s voice. “What’s wrong, Campbell?”
“Mrs. Anderson had a fall.”
Her stomach sank, and she was immediately assailed with guilt for even thinking she needed an emergency to save her from Ransom. “Is she all right?”
“She hit her head. We’ve called an ambulance, and they’ll be here soon. They’ll take her to Good Sam.” Good Samaritan Hospital was only minutes away, thank goodness.
She felt Ransom’s eyes on her, but didn’t look. “You did the right thing.” One could never take chances with a head injury. Her heart was beating fast. Mrs. Anderson was a sweet, generous woman. She always tried to give Ava a tip after she’d done her nails. And Mrs. Anderson’s daughter was so attentive, visiting every week. “Have you called her daughter?”
“I wanted to call you first.” Unspoken between them was that Campbell knew how Ava felt about the lady.
“All right. Let me call her.”
“You have her number?”
“Yes. I’ll call right away. Thank you for letting me know. And please keep me updated.”
“I will.”
She ended the call and said to Ransom, “I have to leave. An emergency call I need to make.”
“Please feel free to make your call right here. I understand the importance.”
“This could take a while. I don’t know if you could tell, but one of my residents in Los Gatos, Mrs. Anderson, has taken a bad fall. She’s hit her head.”
“The hot dog lady.”
Ava tipped her head. “The hot dog lady?”
“She told you never to stop serving hot dogs, or her daughter would stop coming to visit.”
She puffed out a breath. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
“I remember everything you tell me.”
Why did that shock her? Worse, why did it make her want to cry? It was her fear for Mrs. Anderson, of course.
She was already standing, shoving her phone back in her purse. “I really do need to go.”
He stood too. “Please, call me later and let me know how she is.”
“I will. Thank you for the delicious meal and all the great work we did this afternoon.”
Then she ran, as fast as her wedge shoes would let her.