Chapter One
The door to Carly’s Grilled Cheese Eatery opened on a whoosh of frigid air. Two women entered, and after shoving the door closed against the January cold, they stomped their boots on the mat. “Oh gosh, it’s adorable in here!” the shorter woman chirped, sweeping her gaze over the exposed brick walls and the cozy booths upholstered in aquamarine vinyl. Wearing fuzzy white earmuffs that matched her ski jacket, she turned to her companion with a pout. “Dawn,” she said in a girlish whine, “why didn’t we come in here sooner?”
Dawn, who topped her friend’s height by at least half a foot, shoved back the hood of her puffy purple coat. “Because you’ve been on a diet for almost a year, remember?” she said, a touch of tartness in her tone. “You told me not to let you near this place until after your wedding. I was only following orders.”
Carly Hale, owner of the eatery, flipped over the Sweddar Weather she was preparing and peeked over the grill at the pair. The women, both around her own age, looked familiar. Had they graduated from high school with her? She thought they had, but after sixteen years, their names were eluding her.
Dawn. Yes! Now Carly remembered them—Dawn Chapin and Klarissa Taddeo. In high school they’d been an inseparable pair. Klarissa, the bubbly one with sparkling blue eyes and loose, titian-colored curls. Dawn, the quieter and more serious of the two, with hazel eyes and sculpted cheekbones, her straight brunette hair barely brushing the tops of her thin shoulders.
Carly handed over her spatula to her new assistant manager, Valerie Wells. “I want to say hello to these gals. Take over for me?”
Valerie smiled. “You betcha!”
Carly had barely made it around to the other side of the counter when Klarissa let out a squeal. “Carly Hale, is that you?” She rushed forward and threw her arms around her, mindless of the remnants of snow she was pressing into Carly’s green knit sweater.
Carly hugged her in return. “Klarissa, you look great. I haven’t seen you in so long!”
“I know. It’s been like, forever, hasn’t it?”
“Hey, Carly.” Dawn leaned in for a brief hug, then brushed wet flakes from her coat sleeves. “Sorry about the snow.”
“Oh heck, this is Vermont,” Carly said with a smile. “We expect snow to sneak in with our guests. Can I seat you in the booth at the back? It’s close to the heat register so it’s nice and cozy.”
“We’ll take it!” Klarissa pulled off her earmuffs and slid into the booth. Her curls spilled around her face and onto her shoulder.
Dawn settled in opposite her friend, then shrugged off her coat and set her gloves down on the bench seat. Carly gave them menus. After taking their orders and delivering their hot chocolates, she went back behind the grill.
“Old friends of yours?” Valerie asked. Her brunette topknot bounced slightly when she worked, which always seemed to be at warp speed. She slid a grilled cheese onto a plate next to a cup of tomato soup and a pickle.
Carly tucked her friends’ orders on the strip above the grill. “Yup. I went to high school with them, although I haven’t laid eyes on them since graduation.” Carly delivered the sandwich plate to the elderly man seated at the counter.
“Thank you kindly,” he said.
Carly had lucked out the day she interviewed Valerie for the assistant manager position. She’d been looking for a responsible helper, someone who could take over the reins for her when she was out of the restaurant and also feel comfortable in the role. In less than five weeks on the job, the fortysomething Valerie had already proven herself. It was obvious to Carly that a gem had landed in her lap.
Suzanne Rivers, Carly’s part-time server, came through the swinging door from the kitchen. The mom of a boy in grade school, Suzanne had been with Carly from opening day, nearly a year ago. Another lucky find.
“More tuna,” Suzanne announced, a covered stainless-steel bowl in her hands. She shoved it into the mini fridge under the counter. “Seems like everyone’s on a protein kick today.”
“Must be the cold,” Carly said, laughing. Her Farmhouse Cheddar Sleeps with the Fishes, the eatery’s version of a tuna melt, had gained a sudden popularity.
When Klarissa’s and Dawn’s lunches were ready, Carly delivered them to t
heir table. Klarissa had removed her gloves, displaying a colossal marquis diamond glittering on her left ring finger. Her gold-toned cell phone sat in front of her.
Carly set down their plates—a Vermont Classic for Dawn and a Smoky Steals the Bacon for Klarissa. “Beautiful ring,” she commented to Klarissa. “Did I hear someone say you have a wedding in your future?”
Klarissa sat up straighter and wiggled her hand under the lights. A girlish flush colored her porcelain cheeks. “I do, in five weeks. I’m a very lucky woman, Carly.”
“Congratulations,” Carly said. “I wish you all the best.”
Klarissa’s glossy pink lips curved into a frown. “My shower is supposed to be a week from Saturday, if that idiot at the Balsam Dell Inn ever confirms it. You can’t imagine the problems we’ve had with that place, Carly.” She picked up a sandwich half and shoved a corner into her mouth. Her blue eyes lit up like tree bulbs. “This is what I’ve been missing,” she said after she’d barely swallowed. “I can’t wait till I’m officially Mrs. Tony Manous so I can start eating normal food again!”
Dawn glanced over at her friend but said nothing. She took a dainty bite of her sandwich.
“I’ll let you gals enjoy your lunches,” Carly said, mulling over the name. Tony Manous. She’d heard it before, but where?
Carly went through the swinging door into the kitchen. The familiar aroma of tomatoes and basil and—something else?—swirled around her. Grant Robinson, her other grill cook and a budding chef, was preparing another batch of his hearty tomato soup.
He grinned at her, his dark brown eyes twinkling. He’d been growing out his short dreads, and, in Carly’s opinion, was getting handsomer every day. “You detected a new herb, didn’t you? I can see it on your face.” He gently stirred the large pot that was simmering on the stove.
Carly closed her eyes and inhaled. “It’s…darn, I can’t put my finger on it.” She pinned him with a look. “Come on, don’t keep me in suspense.”
“It’s thyme,” he said. “Just enough to tantalize the senses but not overpower the soup.”
“Mmm. I can’t wait to taste it.”
From the dining room, the musical ringtone from a cell phone filtered through the swinging door. It was the “Wedding March.”
“Someone’s getting married,” Grant commented.
“Two old acquaintances of mine from high school came in for lunch,” Carly explained. “One of them is engaged. You should see the rock she’s wearing.”
Grant shrugged. “Won’t be long, you’ll be wearing one of those.” He gave the pot another stir.
Carly felt a flush creep up her neck. “It’s way too soon for that,” she said firmly, “Ari and I are taking our time, as every couple should.” She wasn’t sure she believed that, but it sounded good. It was her current mantra, anyway.
Truth be told, she’d been spending most of her free time lately with Ari Mitchell, the electrician who’d installed the pendant lighting in her eatery. Their relationship had blossomed over the summer and deepened during the holiday season. On New Year’s Eve they’d celebrated as a committed couple, much to the delight of Carly’s mom, Rhonda Hale Clark. Rhonda was currently on vacay in Florida with her hubby Gary, but she was itching for Carly to start sporting a diamond.
But that day, if it came, was in the distant future.
Retrieving a container of grated cheddar from the commercial fridge, she was picturing Ari Mitchell’s adorable face when an angry voice erupted from the dining room. Carly set the container on the worktable and hurried out.
As she’d guessed, the commotion was coming from Klarissa’s table. Klarissa’s face had gone raspberry red, and she was shrieking into her cell. “Then you’d just better find a way to accommodate me,” she threatened. “Otherwise, no one in the Taddeo family will ever patronize your moldy old inn again!”
Dawn reached over and touched her friend’s arm in a calming motion. “Take it easy, and stop overreacting,” she pleaded quietly. “Let me talk to her, okay?” She wiggled her fingers in a give me the phone motion.
Klarissa slammed her cell phone into Dawn’s palm. “This is all your fault, so you’d better make it right,” she ordered, and then took another massive bite of her sandwich.
Doing her best to appear like she wasn’t eavesdropping, Carly busied herself clearing the table behind theirs. A few patrons sitting in the front booths had turned their heads to see what was happening. Rather than looking annoyed, they appeared to be enjoying the verbal tussle.
Carly listened as Dawn spoke calmly into the phone.
“I’m sorry, I know we didn’t bring the check over on time,” Dawn said patiently, “but your assistant led us to believe you would hold the date for us. And remember, it was she who did the booking.” She listened for a moment,
and then her eyes closed. “All right, thank you. I can see we’re not getting anywhere.” She disconnected the call and set the phone on the table. She shook her head. “They won’t budge, Klar. I told you we needed to get that check over there by the first, didn’t I?”
Klarissa’s fist closed on the table. “How. Dare. You. Blaming me for your sloppiness. You’re the wedding planner, and you’re my maid of honor. This is all your fault.”
Concerned over the mounting tension, Carly sidled over to their table. She spoke quietly. “Ladies, I couldn’t help overhearing. Is there anything I can do to help?” She didn’t seriously think there was, but she hoped her offer might calm Klarissa and get them to stop yelling in her eatery.
“I’m afraid not,” Dawn said dismally, “unless you have connections at the Balsam Dell Inn. They double-booked the date of Klarissa’s shower, and now we’re fresh out of luck.” She looked apologetically at her friend. “You’re right, Klarissa,” she said meekly. “This is my fault. But now we have less than two weeks, and I have no idea how to fix my mistake.”
For several scary moments, Klarissa went silent. Then a sudden gleam shone in her blue eyes, and her lips curved into a smile. “I do. We’ll have my shower at your mother’s house. It’ll be perfect!”
Dawn’s mouth opened in surprise. “What? Klar, that’s crazy. Thirty women will be attending the shower. Where will they all go?”
“In that vast drawing room, of course,” Klarissa said airily. “Oh, Dawn, it’ll be perfect. You’ll have to arrange for table and chair rentals, of course, and someone will need to decorate.”
“But…but we’d need a caterer,” Dawn said, getting rattled now. “There’s no way we can find one at this short notice. It’s literally like, twelve days away.”
Klarissa sat back against the booth, an impish smile on her lips. “Well, I can think of the perfect caterer. Carly, didn’t you just offer to help?”
Carly nearly choked. She hadn’t meant that kind of help.
“Klarissa, I’m…honored that you would consider me,” Carly told her. “The thing is, I’m not a caterer. I run a small restaurant with a particular specialty. I wouldn’t have a clue how to cater a shower.”
Actually, that was a fib. She did have a clue, sort of.
Half a lifetime ago, or at least that’s how it felt, Carly was working as restaurant manager at a historic inn in northern Vermont. One of her favorite employees had gotten engaged, and Carly had eagerly offered to host the bridal shower. From the sumptuous array of food to the decadent champagne cake, the shower had been a huge success—and a total blast.
Hard to believe that was only five years ago. Three years later, Carly would lose her husband, Daniel, to a tragic accident. It was months before she got her life back on track. She sold their small home and returned to southern Vermont, to her beloved hometown of Balsam Dell.
“You have an odd look on your face,” Klarissa said, waving her beringed hand in front of Carly.
Carly shook off her memories. “Sorry, my brain went off on a tangent. Klarissa, I’d love to help, but like I said, I’ve never done any catering.” That much, at least, was true.
Ignoring Carly’s protests, Klarissa pointed a manicured finger at her maid of honor. “Donuts. Remember? They’d be perfect. I’ll bet no one’s ever served them at a wedding shower before!”
Dawn groaned and gave up a weak smile. “Grilled cheese donuts. Leave it to you to remember.” She looked at Carly and explained. “We saw grilled cheese donuts at a diner in Maine last summer. Klar was already in high diet mode—determined to squeeze into a size eight wedding gown—so instead of trying one, she plunked them onto her bucket list. Her postwedding bucket list.”
Grilled cheese donuts.
Carly had heard of them, but she’d never made one. She had to admit, the idea held a certain appeal. They weren’t for everyone, but for sure they’d have some takers.
“It’s an interesting idea,” Carly said. “I hope you find someone who can cater for you, Klarissa. With my schedule, I can’t possibly plan a menu for thirty plus people in such a short time.”
As if Carly had turned suddenly invisible, Klarissa aimed a forefinger at Dawn. “It’s your fault we lost the Inn, Dawn, so call your mom right now and firm it up with her. I came up with the solution. Now it’s your job to make it work.”
Dawn’s expression hardened, and her slim nostrils flared. She dug out her cell phone from the pocket of her puffy coat and began tapping away.
Klarissa swerved her legs around in the booth and jumped up to squeeze Carly in a hug. “I just knew you’d save the day, Carly. And think what a feather in your cap this is going to be!”
“Wait a minute,” Carly pleaded. “I’m not a caterer. You need to find someone who—” She halted midsentence, stilled by the look of desperation on Dawn’s thin face.
Over Klarissa’s shoulder, Dawn held up her hands in a praying motion. Please, she mouthed silently.
I guess I’ll be catering a wedding shower, Carly thought wryly. And with grilled cheese donuts, no less.
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