Major spent the first few minutes of filming talking to Ward about the features of Meredith’s kitchen and things homeowners could do to increase the efficiency of their cooking and food-prep spaces. When they finished, Major shook hands with his former rival and invited him to stay and watch, but Ward excused himself, promising to return later.
Nelson did some close-ups of different areas of the kitchen while Major set out his mise en place, carefully arranging all of the utensils, dishes, and food items he would need in the order he would use them.
“Ready?” Pricilla asked from behind the stationary camera diagonally across the island from him. This would be a little harder than usual, since the stove was over to his right instead of behind him, as in the executive kitchen—or in the island, as at Alaine’s place. But it would work.
“Ready.”
Pricilla gave the take number then pointed at Major to start.
“I’m Chef Major O’Hara, executive chef for Boudreaux-Guidry Enterprises’ catering division. Today we’re going to be making braised beef short ribs; cheesy potato casserole; sautéed broccoli rabe with lemon and garlic; and for dessert, an easy, rich, flourless chocolate cake.”
He got started cooking. Every time he looked into the camera lens, he got a little tickle in his stomach, imagining Meredith on the other side instead of Pricilla. In just a few hours, Meredith would be here, eating the food he was cooking.
At three o’clock, Major designed the presentation plate for Nelson to shoot.
“You were really on a roll today.” Pricilla started wrapping up cords.
“It seems to be getting easier every week.”
“Let the homeowner know that we’re grateful for the chance to film here—and that I’m jealous over this house.”
“I’ll be sure to tell her.” He pitched in and helped break down the equipment and load it in the van. Even though he could use some of what he cooked for the segment, he had quite a bit of work to do before he could run out to see Ma and still get back in time to surprise Meredith.
He grabbed his phone and called Ma’s direct line.
“Yes?”
“It’s me, Ma.”
“Why are you calling? You’re coming tonight, aren’t you?” A tinge of panic laced his mother’s voice.
“I’m coming early for my visit tonight. I should be there around five o’clock.” That should give him enough time to do a quick clean of her room and let her tell him everything that had happened to her since Sunday.
“Oh. Okay. But you’ll have to leave by six, because that’s when we have dinner.”
He’d have plenty of time to get back here and sauté a fresh batch of the broccoli rabe, put last minute touches on everything else, and change clothes before Meredith arrived. “I’ll see you in a little while, Ma. And I’ll be sure to leave by six.”
“’Kay. Bye.” She hung up.
He dialed Ward’s number.
“Is the coast clear?” Ward said by way of greeting.
“Yeah. Did you get the table and chairs?”
“I did. I’m headed that way with them now.”
“Thanks. See you in a few, then.” He closed the phone and turned his attention to the romantic dinner for Meredith. He marveled at the irony that in the short span of two weeks, Ward Breaux had gone from enemy to Major’s greatest ally.
Twenty minutes later, he slid the pan of hash-brown casserole back into the smaller warming oven to reheat. Tires crunched on the gravel drive. After a moment’s panic that Meredith had come early, Major went out to help Ward carry in the table Major had found at a secondhand furniture shop. If she protested his buying it for her, he’d insist it was a housewarming gift, especially since he’d overheard her telling Corie how much she wanted to find a drop-leaf table to put on the newly screened-in back porch.
Major pulled out the tablecloth, candles, and flowers he’d brought. Ward returned with the two chairs.
“You’re sure you don’t mind staying while I run a last-minute errand?” Major placed the matchbook on the table so he could light the candles as soon as Meredith drove up.
“So long as I don’t have to do anything with the food.” Ward glanced nervously over his shoulder at the kitchen.
“Nope. Everything’s either warming or chilling or braising, so it’s good to go until I get back to finish it off. I should only be gone about an hour. Hopefully, she won’t come early.”
The morning’s slight drizzle had turned into a steady rain. He hoped it wouldn’t cause any problems. The last thing he needed was to get stuck in a traffic jam trying to get back before Meredith arrived.
Meredith groaned when the radio DJ announced that traffic in midtown was still in a snarl because of a major accident at University Avenue and Spring Street—the most direct route to get to the house from the office. She picked up her phone and quick-dialed Ward’s number.
“Hey, pretty girl.”
She laughed at his continued use of the endearment. “Hey, yourself. I’m calling to let you know that it looks like it may be seven fifteen or later before I can get there. Traffic through town is bad, so I’m going to have to go around the long way.”
“Not a problem. Drive carefully.”
“I will. See you in a bit.” She ended the call and set the phone in the closest cup holder. She made a U-turn to head north instead of south out of downtown.
But even the winding country roads that led to the back entrance to Plantation Grove were packed with cars barely crawling along. She breathed a huge sigh of relief when she turned into the subdivision and traffic instantly thinned out.
Tension ebbed from her shoulders at the warm, beckoning light shining through the front windows of her house. Almost thirty minutes late, she hoped whatever it was that Ward needed to show her wouldn’t take very long.
Pulling her jacket over her head, she dashed up the sidewalk to the front porch. The beveled glass in the top of the door glittered and sent glittering rainbows across the porch and floor when it swung open.
The heavenly aroma of food greeted her. She drew in a deep breath and sighed—then laughed. Best not get used to the smell of food cooking in this house. At least, not in the near future. But maybe someday...
She nipped that thought in the bud. Until Major told her everything about himself—about his family—she’d promised herself she wouldn’t let their relationship progress past its current stage.
He was supposed to have finished filming several hours ago—so why did it smell like the food was cooking now?
She followed the scent toward the back of the house—and stopped just inside the dining room door. A table with flowers and unlit candles as a centerpiece, formally set for a meal, sat in the middle of the large room. Her heart jumped. Could this be for her? Or something left over from the TV segment?
A noise in the kitchen motivated her to move. “Hello?”
Ward appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.
Her heart dropped. Had he changed his mind? Was this an attempt to win her back?
“Hi, Meredith.”
“What ... what is all this?” She stopped at the table and gripped the spindle back of a chair.
“Uh ... well, you know that Major was over here today, shooting his TV show. You see, it’s like this: He wanted to surprise you with a romantic dinner, so he asked me to call you to come over tonight.”
“Oh.” Drat the way her voice went all high and squeaky when she was excited. “Is he in the kitchen?” She started around the table.
“No-o-o.” Ward’s forehead became a washboard of frown lines. “Truth is, I don’t know where he is. The only reason I’m here is because he had to run an errand. He said he’d be back around six, but I haven’t heard from him since he left.”
Meredith looked at her watch. “It’s almost a quarter of eight.” She reached for her phone but then remembered it was still in the cup holder in her car.
Ward extended his phone. “Here.”
She dialed Major’s cell phone number from memory. It rang four times; then his voicemail picked up. She dialed it again. It rang twice, then—