Sarah Blair took a deep breath before entering the main dining room of Jane’s Place. Attending the grand opening of her greatest nemesis’s restaurant was the last thing she wanted to do, but she had no choice. Sarah was there to check out the competition. Her misery was only made worse because the opening of Southwind, the white-tablecloth restaurant across the street that she partially owned, was mired in red-tape delay by Wheaton’s building inspector.
Looking around Jane’s Place, Sarah didn’t see either of her Southwind partners, but she immediately spotted the bottle-tinted flaming red hair of Jane’s Place’s namesake. Jane Clark stood near a small bar in the room’s far corner, conversing with the chief of police and two city councilwomen. Sarah turned in the opposite direction.
Emily and Marcus, Southwind’s co-owners, stood a few feet away, talking to one of their frequent catering customers, Deborah Holt. From their relaxed expressions, Sarah assumed her twin sister and Emily’s boyfriend were turning the charm on to keep Mrs. Holt loyal to Southwind, no matter how good the food at Jane’s Place was. Observing the three talking, Sarah decided her presence was not only unneeded but might be problematic. Mrs. Holt liked perfectly prepared catered food served in her own bowls, so her guests would think she cooked all day. That was exactly the opposite of Sarah’s few efforts in the kitchen, which normally consisted of bringing in takeout or throwing together something simple using premade ingredients.
Peering beyond them, Sarah was pleased there were enough other people crammed into the canary-yellow painted dining room that Sarah could avoid Jane, her late ex-husband’s bimbo, for most, if not all, of the time needed to survey the restaurant. Even if Sarah didn’t stay long enough to have an opportunity to sample and form an opinion of all the available dishes, she was confident her partners, Chefs Emily and Marcus, with their more discerning palates, would.
Sarah took a quick inventory of the restaurant’s setup for tonight. It appeared she was in the room where the main buffet was. Most of the two- and four-top tables were pushed back against two of the room’s walls, leaving the center of the room clear for guests to mill around. Directly across from the dining room’s main entryway was the buffet tasting table. A long line of people reminding her of vultures stood perched for a chance to sample Jane’s Alabama farm-to-table food and her specially advertised vegan dishes.
Skipping an offered glass of pinot grigio that might have helped make the next hour bearable, Sarah fell into the food line behind two of the three veterinarians from the practice that cared for her Siamese cat, RahRah. Without their identical white coats, the doctors, who in the clinic went by their first names, seemed as much a contrast to each other as Sarah and her twin sister were.
“Quite a line.” Sarah pointed at the waiting patrons. “I can’t imagine what possessed Jane to put the buffet table flat against the wall.”
Dr. Tonya Putnam, RahRah’s favorite vet, rolled her eyes. “Don’t ask. Who knows with Jane? Considering how much food she put out, having only one side available for serving is a real pain.”
“Hopefully, the wait will be worth it,” Sarah said as they inched forward.
The other doctor, Vera Hong, poked her heart-shaped face around the taller Dr. Tonya. “Because our clinic and Jane’s Place share the same parking lot, we saw the flow of people attending the past two weeks of soft openings. All our patients who told us about eating here raved about the food—especially the dishes made by Jane’s sous chef, Riley Miller. That’s why we couldn’t resist trying everything for ourselves tonight.”
Dr. Tonya leaned over conspiratorially to Sarah. “Besides, it’s a free dinner.”
Sarah laughed, but she silently prayed, for Southwind’s sake, everything wasn’t that good. Unfortunately, she’d heard the same thing about Riley’s food from the grapevine—her mother.
Even though her mother lived fifteen minutes away in Birmingham, she always seemed to know everything going on in Wheaton, Alabama, before Sarah did. Sarah had originally planned to let Emily and Marcus attend the grand opening alone, but when her mother reported the over-the-top praise she’d heard about Riley’s dishes, Sarah’s curiosity won out.
The moment she’d walked into Jane’s Place, her feelings had completely changed. The desire to taste Riley’s food was gone. Instead, she wished she could go back out the front door, cross Main Street, and walk down the driveway beside the big house, where the new Southwind was, until she reached the carriage house behind it. Sarah owned the big house, but the carriage house where she lived was where she felt comfortable and safe. Playing at home with RahRah would be a lot more fun than making small talk or having to congratulate Jane if the food really was as good as everyone said.
Thinking of how RahRah, her alpha cat, was probably exerting control throughout the carriage house over Fluffy, Sarah’s recently adopted dog, made her smile. It also reminded her she needed to make a vaccination appointment for Fluffy with either Dr. Tonya or Dr. Vera. Sarah had been so busy accidentally finding herself in the midst of a flurry of murders in Wheaton that taking Fluffy to the vet had completely slipped her mind. With their clinic located in the remodeled house next door to Jane’s Place, she had no excuse for not running Fluffy by for her shot.
“Hate to interrupt your checked-out moment, but you need to move up,” a voice behind Sarah said.
Flustered at being caught daydreaming, Sarah muttered, “Sorry.” She glanced over her shoulder while she closed the gap in the line.
Her friend Jacob Hightower grinned at her with a smile that not only sat on his lips but reached his blue eyes. Having not seen much of him since the fire that temporarily put his job as a line cook at the original Southwind strip center location on hold, she was glad to run into him tonight.
“I didn’t see you get in line.”
“You were zoned out.” He glanced around the room. “Whew. Jane’s got some crowd. I bet most of Wheaton is here tonight.”
Sarah frowned. “You might be right. People always like to try the new place in town—especially when they can do it for free.”
“That’s true. My shift at the Southwind Pub was dead tonight. I was somewhat surprised when I ran into Emily and Marcus eating in the other room, but considering your history with Jane, this is the last place I expected to see you.”
Shoving her hands into her pockets, Sarah whispered a sheepish confession. “Call it self-protection. Emily, Marcus, and I came to try out our competitor’s food. We’ve heard some of Jane’s menu items are out of this world.”
“Jane’s food is no different than ever. Fine, but nothing special. It’s Riley’s dishes that are delicious.”
“That’s what I heard, but vegan dishes?” Sarah didn’t notice how loud her voice was until the person behind Jacob shot her a dirty look. Her attempt at apologizing drew stares from more people until she realized she was standing in front of the plates and they wanted her to get on with making her selections.
She took two clear plastic plates from the pile at the end of the table and handed one to Jacob. As she served herself, she realized another reason the line was moving so slowly. Riley Miller stood at the midpoint of the long buffet table, explaining to each group of guests what they were about to taste. Sarah couldn’t help but stare at her. Riley’s ease and sense of assurance reminded her of how Emily effortlessly worked crowds when she did food demonstrations.
Watching the way Riley’s blond ponytail bobbed and how she accentuated her words with her ever-moving hands, there was something about Riley that made Sarah think the young chef might fly away at any moment. It wasn’t that Riley resembled a butterfly, but she radiated more of a sprite vibe. That was it. She reminded Sarah of Tinker Bell, the fairy in Peter Pan. Clad in a short green chiffon dress, Riley was small, athletic, and had an engaging smile.
Sarah presumed Riley was quite the salesperson from the amount of food Drs. Tonya and Vera had piled on their plates while Sarah was daydreaming. As she reached Riley’s part of the buffet table, Sarah, having heard and observed Emily in action, wondered how similar Riley’s patter was.
“Hi. I’m Riley Miller.”
“Sarah Blair.”
“Oh, I know who you are.”
Sarah cringed. She knew something like “You’re the one who helped solve that murder recently” was probably coming.
“You’re Chef Emily’s sister. You know my friend Grace, Chef Emily’s sous chef? She raves about Emily.”
So much for letting her little bit of success unraveling a few murders go to her head. At least Sarah agreed with Grace. As much as Emily and she were polar opposites in everything from height to temperament, each was the other’s strongest supporter. “Grace is right. Emily’s not only great in the kitchen, but, if I say so myself, my sister’s a pretty good egg. I’ll have to tell her what Grace said.”
“Oh, no. Please don’t. I mean, it’s what Grace said, but Grace would be so embarrassed for Chef Emily to know she gushes about her.”
Sarah held up her hands to slow the torrent of words. “Whoa! Don’t worry, Riley. It will be our secret.” Sarah began spooning some type of casserole onto her plate. “Why don’t you tell me about your food? Did you make all of these dishes?”
“Yes. My recipes, which are all vegan, are inspired by my love of nature. The one you’re serving yourself is one of my favorites. It—oh, I’m sorry. Jane is signaling me. Time for the Jane and Riley dog-and-pony show.”
Sarah followed Riley’s gaze to the center of the room. Jane was indeed waving for Riley to join her. With a little shrug, Riley did. While Jane expressed her gratitude for everyone coming and supporting the opening of Jane’s Place, Sarah, content to listen with one ear, focused on picking items to taste from the remainder of the buffet. Her plate was almost full when her attention was caught by Jane’s explanation that her motivation for opening a farm-to-table, fine-dining restaurant on Main Street was to fulfill a dream she’d had with Bill Blair.
Sarah, her body tensing, stepped away from the serving table. Not only did she feel Jane’s remarks were over-the-top, but the mention of Sarah’s late ex-husband reminded her of the two things she most disliked about Jane. First, Jane was the bimbo who broke up Sarah’s marriage almost two years ago, turning Sarah into a twenty-eight-year-old divorcée. And second, Jane had put Sarah through the wringer, trying to take her beloved cat, RahRah, from her after Bill died.
Sarah turned back toward Jacob, who still was filling his plate. She kept her voice low so only Jacob could hear her. “I swear the only reason Jane bought this house for her restaurant was because it’s directly across the street from where Emily, Marcus, and I are opening Southwind.”
Jacob nodded. “Probably true, but it won’t hurt having two good restaurants to spur activity in Wheaton’s entertainment district. Southwind and Jane’s Place will help build our reputation as a foodie destination. Hopefully, that will convince people to drive the fifteen minutes from Birmingham.”
From the perspective of enhancing traffic, Sarah couldn’t disagree with Jacob. She knew he understood what he was talking about. After all, he’d quit working as a line cook for Marcus in San Francisco to return to Wheaton to be part of a group hoping to develop Main Street into an entertainment district. Because of his prior relationship with Marcus, Jacob was the one who convinced Marcus to move to Wheaton to be an owner/chef of the original strip center Southwind location.
After a fire destroyed the first Southwind, Marcus and Emily had the restaurant remodeled to be the casual Southwind Pub. Although they had recently opened the doors of the Southwind Pub, their passion, with Sarah as a partner, was to launch a more formal dining establishment in Sarah’s big house.
It was one thing to have a mostly local crowd frequent the chefs’ Southwind Pub, but the survival of upper-end white-tablecloth restaurants like Southwind and Jane’s Place needed local and neighboring customers. Even if Jacob was right that the proximity of the restaurants would prove beneficial, Sarah couldn’t help wishing the competition across the street was owned by someone other than Jane.
“Come on. Let’s see if there’s someplace else we can eat.” Jacob guided Sarah to a smaller room adjacent to the main dining area. From the looks of it, it had once been the house’s formal parlor, but Jane was using it for a more intimate dining experience. There were only six tables, each set for four people. Jacob picked one and motioned Sarah to the seat across from him.
She looked at the food piled on her plate while she slid into her seat. It was way more than she should eat. “Jacob, you made it sound like you’ve tried a lot of the dishes served here. How? If I heard Jane right, tonight is the first time she’s put everything on her menu out at one time.”
“I came to all the soft openings.”
Sarah was about to ask why when she remembered she’d heard that Jacob had a thing for Riley. For a moment, Sarah tried to remember the source of the rumor. When it came to her that it was Emily’s copper-skinned sous chef, Grace Winston, who mentioned it in passing, she knew from Riley’s comments about Emily and Grace that Grace’s info hadn’t been idle gossip.
Rather than tease Jacob about having a crush on Riley, she feigned surprise at how many tastings he’d attended. “All of them?”
“Yup. Jane’s food hasn’t changed, but customers are going to line up out the restaurant’s door for Riley’s.”
“I can’t see anyone lining up to order any vegan option on a menu.”
He pointed to the right corner of Sarah’s plate. “In the past, I’d have agreed with you, but Riley’s food is delicious. Try a bite of that.”
She followed his direction. Her taking another taste was enough to show how much she’d enjoyed the first one. “What is this?”
“A tofu-based dish.”
“Tofu? That’s not something I usually eat, but this is different.” She took another forkful.
He gave her a thumbs-up. “Mark my words, Riley is going to put Jane’s Place on the map. We’ll definitely see foodies from Birmingham lining up to eat here, which can only be good for Southwind, too.”
Sarah frowned. From observing Emily and Marcus’s efforts with the original Southwind restaurant before the fire, she knew it wasn’t easy to convince people to drive from Birmingham to Wheaton. Much as a success for Jane galled her, Sarah guessed if Southwind and Jane’s Place could help each other increase traffic to their respective restaurants, it would be okay.
In silence, they sampled the rest of the food on their plates. Everything Sarah tasted was so good she couldn’t decide which dish she liked best. Sadly, Jane’s Place was going to be stiff competition for Southwind.
Feeling stuffed, despite the portions being only tasting size, Sarah thought it was time to give Jacob a bit of a hard time. “Jacob, could there have been another reason you attended every opening event?”
An out of character redness made Jacob’s cheeks flush. Seeing Jacob blush, Sarah was again struck by how handsome he was. When they met, she wrote him off as a rich boy temporarily slumming as a line cook in Southwind’s kitchen to annoy his real estate mogul father. Slowly, she discovered that, despite being the son of one of the wealthiest families in town and having been blessed with the best looks in the Hightower family, he was a good guy.
Observing his discomfort, Sarah couldn’t resist pulling his leg a bit more. “I never thought you would give up meat and potatoes. When did you develop such an interest in vegan cooking? Or is it vegan cooks?”
The serious look that crossed Jacob’s face made Sarah stop her kidding.
He put down his fork and pushed his plate away. “Neither anymore, but that doesn’t take away from the fact Riley’s food is delicious. Speaking of delicious food, do you have any idea when Southwind will open?”
“That depends on Louis Botts. We’ve been waiting for him to come by and do the final city inspection for two weeks.”
Jacob grimaced. “With Botts that doesn’t surprise me. What does our mutual friend Cliff say about Botts and the time it’s taking to get an inspection?”
Now it was Sarah’s turn to be in the hot seat. Cliff was not only the contractor overseeing the construction and remodeling for Jane’s Place, the Southwind Pub, Southwind, and the vet clinic next to Jane’s Place, but he was also a close friend of Jacob’s and a maybe boyfriend of Sarah’s. Should she tell Jacob that when they were out sailing on his boat last weekend, Cliff admitted he thought something smelled fishy about how long it was taking to get a final inspection? No, she decided. Cliff’s livelihood required him staying on good terms with Botts, and if she told Jacob what Cliff thought, it could make things worse.
It wasn’t that long ago that Cliff dismissed Marcus’s repeated complaints about how the town’s only building inspector was or wasn’t doing his job. But now, even Cliff couldn’t understand why so much time had elapsed without the final inspection taking place. Renovations for the Southwind Pub had sailed through. The same was true for the remodeling of Jane’s Place.
In retrospect, it seemed like Jane barely closed on the property before her restaurant was ready for soft openings. Southwind’s Main Street location was an entirely different story. Anything to do with permitting, equipment deliveries, and inspections, especially the final one, seemed stuck in the mud if not sinking in quicksand.
Rather than answering Jacob’s question about Cliff’s opinion, she reached with her fork over to the food still on his plate. “I think I missed this one.” She barely snagged a taste, but she took her time chewing and swallowing it. “Wow. This is delicious, too.”
“Told you.” He cocked his ear toward the dining room. “Sounds like Riley is talking. Want to go back in?”
“Sure.”
They left their dishes on the table and returned to the dining room. Riley, surrounded on three sides by Jane and her guests, was addressing the importance of healthy eating and how one accomplished that through a vegan diet. Once she explained the healthy premise of her cooking, she segued into the specific vegan menu items available at Jane’s Place.
As she listened, Sarah sorted through the different rumors she’d heard about Riley since Jane’s Place began opening events two weeks ago. Sarah wasn’t big on gossip, but the talented sous chef and her food probably were the hottest topics in town. While some of the talk addressed her skill as a chef, quite a bit focused on her personal life and romantic attachments. If what was being said was true, Riley was a heartbreaker who dated everyone and anyone, but no one in particular. Jacob’s name was linked with Riley’s by Grace, but seeing his reaction to the mention of Louis Botts, she wondered if Botts was the man of the moment while Jacob had been pushed out in the cold. She wasn’t about to ask Jacob. Even if she did, she doubted he would answer her.
When Riley finished speaking, the crowd broke up. Some people, including the veterinarians and a few of the city VIPs, left immediately. It was as if common courtesy had dictated that in exchange for their free dinners, they wait until Jane and Riley spoke before fleeing. Those who remained made their way back to the bar or tasting table.
Leaving her side, Jacob made a beeline toward Riley. At the same time, from the other side of the room, a tall man purposely broke through the remaining groups of people apparently intent on doing the same thing. Because of his comb-over and leather motorcycle jacket, which, underneath its embellishments, was the same slick shade of black as his hair, she recognized Louis Botts. She’d met him when he inspected the Southwind Pub. Sarah also saw him occasionally when she walked Fluffy. His ever-present unique jacket, as he gunned his motorcycle onto Main Street from the driveway the animal clinic and Jane’s Place shared, was a dead giveaway.
Before Botts could reach Riley, a beefy hand caught his sleeve and stopped his forward movement dead cold. Although the individual attached to the hand wore a plaid suit that reminded Sarah of a checkered picnic blanket, instead of his usual chef’s white jacket, balloon pants, and orange clogs, Sarah immediately recognized Emily’s boyfriend, Chef Marcus. She could see from his stance that he was in a confrontational mode.
“Botts, if I ran my restaurant with the ‘I’ll get around to it when I can’ attitude you have, I’d be out of business within a month.”
“I’m sorry, Marcus. There’s only one of me. Remember, besides the renovation and building inspections for Wheaton’s new entertainment district, I’m still handling every other city commercial and residential inspection. If you want to complain to someone, go talk to those city council folks over by the bar. See if you can get them to loosen their purse strings enough to hire another inspector. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
As Marcus and Botts’s voices escalated above the ruckus of the party, Sarah looked around but didn’t see her sister or, for that matter, Jane anywhere. Scared as to what might happen next, Sarah hurried toward Botts and Marcus. Just as she reached Marcus’s side, he pushed himself into Botts’s personal space.
While Botts explained something about the delivery and construction delays dropping Southwind to the bottom of his schedule, it was Marcus’s partially raised arm, with its closed fist, that concerned her. She grabbed his arm and exerted as much pressure as her full 128 pounds would allow. Either surprised or reacting to her weight, Marcus relaxed his fighter’s stance. He dropped his unclenched fist even with his thighs.
Botts grabbed a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter. He downed it in two gulps and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Marcus, be careful with those mitts of yours. You don’t want to take on someone who’s been trained to use his hands. Besides, you’re going to need them for mincing and mixing whenever you get your fancy restaurant open.”
Sarah tensed, half expecting to feel Marcus tighten his muscles again to throw a punch. When he didn’t, she released her grip on his arm.
“And when will that be, Botts? We’ve been. . .
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