Recipe For Redemption

“Do I strike you as an avid NCN viewer?”

Her sarcasm pulled a deeply buried smile out of him. “It also made national news. I was every media outlet’s disgrace story for over a week.” While Marcus Aiken, his sous chef, had been given his own show and a font of new endorsement deals.

“Big deal. So was the governor, and her approval ratings went up. So you made a mistake. People, humans, make them all the time.”

She sounded so much like Gary she gave him a headache. “People are allowed to make mistakes. Celebrities, Corwins are held to a higher standard, especially in the food industry. Scandals like mine kill careers, Abby. Especially after you’ve been built up as some kind of icon. I’m proof of that. My own shareholders ousted me from the company my bro—” The word stalled in his throat. “The company we built.”

“Icon. Wow.” She sighed and shook her head. “Ego check on aisle seven. So, what? You ran? You’re hiding out here because a bunch of people know you cheated and you were a jerk about it? You’ve been a jerk about a lot of things with me. What’s the big deal?”

When had this conversation veered off the verbal cliff? He hadn’t run away from New York, he’d walked away after it had been made abundantly clear he was too much of a liability for Corwin Brothers. “When you’re one of the faces of a million-dollar brand, people—shareholders, specifically—shift into damage-control mode.”

David had been the negotiator, the peacemaker. David had been the diplomat while Jason had been the moody artist few people wanted to deal with. Without David as a buffer, he’d had no patience or charisma to keep anyone on his side. He’d lost count of how many so-called friends had made the suggestion in less than understanding terms.

“Corwin Brothers is beyond my help,” Jason continued. “And don’t get me started on how my father plans to fix the company.” By going against every principle their grandfather had held dear. But not even that was enough to push Jason back into the kitchen.

“Pfffh.” Abby waved her hand again and shrugged. “What do network executives and shareholders know? On the bright side, if you tell me your girlfriend dumped you and then your truck broke down, I bet you could start a new career as a country music singer.”

Jason marveled. She had the oddest view of the world.

“There was no girlfriend.” That’s all he would have needed to complete the equation. He faced her, part of him worried about what he’d see on her face, but all he saw was the same Abby he’d met in a billowing fog of smoke. Part energetic bunny, part warrior woman who would fight smoke and burned scones to the death. “I’m toxic to anyone and everyone in the industry. Nobody wants me.”

“I want you.” Abby jumped to her feet, then, as her words sank in, her cheeks went that brilliant—and all too familiar—shade of pink. “I mean, oh, buttered biscuits!” She spun in a circle as if she could go back in time. “You know what I mean. I don’t care about some scandal from your past or the fact you tried to cheat your way out of something or even that it sounds as if you ran away instead of fighting for your career. And I’m sorry, but what kind of father lets a bunch of shareholders oust his son so he can slither into his position? That’s disgusting.”

He stared. Wh-what?

“Okay.” She plunged ahead. “So, yeah, maybe cheating was a dirty move, but are you sorry you did it? I don’t mean are you sorry you got caught,” she added when he started to respond. “If you had it to do all over again, would you?”

“No.” That pressure valve he’d been waiting months to release finally did. Her question stunned him. No one had ever asked him that before. No one had seemed to care enough to, not even when he’d been so mired in grief he couldn’t think straight. “Cheating was the worst mistake I’ve ever made and lying about it made it worse. It cheapened everything I worked for, everything my brother stood for. I’ll never take a shortcut again, no matter what it might cost me.”

“So help me.” She seemed bolstered rather than deterred by his admission. “I need to do this. The inn needs it. And maybe you can find a little redemption for yourself in the meantime.”

The desperation in her voice wasn’t something he wanted to hear, but he had the feeling she’d let something unintentional slip. “What do you mean, the inn needs it?”

She bit her lip, eyes darting around the room. He recognized that expression. He’d seen it on enough faces in the last few months to know it was someone’s way of coming up with a story or plausible explanation.

“Finances are tight. If I do this, the inn will be featured in the network special,” she said. “Butterfly Harbor needs all the word of mouth it can get, and we need guests. I’m sure you noticed we don’t have many. It’s an opportunity I can’t pass up. Even if I am a hopeless cook.”

“Not the best attitude or selling point when looking for a teacher.” Jason stepped into the room and glanced over the rest of the pamphlet. “Hang on. You just said finances were tight and that you can’t pay me. How are you coming up with the entry fee?”

She dragged her parents’ rings across their chain, her smile tight. “I’ll find a way.”

As little as he knew about her, he didn’t doubt it for a second. “I’m not saying yes.” How could he, when it meant returning to the life that held nothing but dark memories and disappointment? “But if I were to agree to this, you should know up front you’ll need to take time off work and it’ll be long hours. I can probably keep you in the running long enough for you to get those ads, but fair warning, two weeks isn’t enough to get you ready to win. Plus, you could hate me even more by the time we’re done.”

“You mean I’ll get an even closer look at arrogant, egotistical, judgmental Jason Corwin?” She fluttered her lashes at him as if he were a teenage heartthrob. “Yay. He’s so dreamy.”

“He’s also a class-A jerk with antisocial tendencies.” He couldn’t help it. Her teasing and calling things as she saw them amused him. How could anyone take himself seriously when she was around? “But since you know that going in...” She was right. He was bored and he didn’t have anything else on his agenda for the foreseeable future. Besides, teaching someone to cook wasn’t the same as cooking. “I’ll make you a deal. If you come up with the application fee, I’ll do what I can to teach you. But again, I can’t guarantee—”

“I know, I know.” She flew across the room, grabbed his shoulders and kissed him full on the mouth. A quick kiss. One of gratitude and happiness with a touch of that electric excitement he was fast becoming familiar with. He also, in that moment, tasted fire and determination.

She must have surprised herself, because she rocked back on her heels and lifted her stunned face to him as his lips curved. He clenched his fists to stop himself from touching her cheek, from finding out if her skin was as soft as he imagined it would be. “You heard me, right? This is going to be hard work, Abby.”

“Anything worthwhile always is.” She grabbed his book. “I’m going to start reading this tonight, but first, I’m clicking Submit on that application! How about you meet me at the Butterfly Diner for an early lunch tomorrow, say, eleven o’clock, and we’ll go from there?” She set her jaw and grinned at him, challenge issued.

“The diner, huh?” His stomach rolled at the thought of it. What was it she’d said earlier? Holy hamburgers? “Has anyone ever tried to say no to you?”

“Once or twice. Didn’t work. Good night, Jay. And thank you.”

He caught her arm as she passed, looked into her eyes for a second longer—not long enough. “My name is Jason.”

She nodded as if she was coming out of some sort of trance. “Jason, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She hugged his book like she was an anxious freshman headed off to her first day.

He opened the door for her, waited until she disappeared down the stairs before he closed it again. The doubt crept in, slow and slithering, working its way into his overwhelmed brain.

Whatever desire, whatever passion he’d once held for his profession was gone. He’d lost his appetite for all of it. The idea of diving back into that world that haunted him was enough to freeze his feet to the floor. Which left him with one question.

What had he just gotten himself into?

CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_debdc7f7-d40e-5d09-baf0-1f3063496c97)

“ABIGAIL MANNING!” HOLLY glared at Abby as if she wanted to crawl over the counter and strangle her. “Things cannot be so bad at the inn you had to sell your parents’ wedding rings.”

“I know.” Except they were. Abby forced a smile. The ache in her chest remained and she could still feel her hand burning from when she’d handed over the rings, but she refused to look behind her. Sometimes it took sacrificing the past to try to save the future. At least that’s what she kept telling herself.

If anything, spending three hours early this morning replacing another two showerheads, tightening valves under sinks and touching up chair-rail paint in the soon-to-be-occupied rooms was all the reminder she needed of how much there was to do. “I don’t think my parents would want me to have to put Gran in a home, which is what’s going to happen if the Flutterby closes. This is the only way out I can see.”

Holly moved aside for the ever skinny, fashion boundary–pushing server Twyla, who grabbed a fresh pot of coffee and warmed up the late-morning customers’ cups. “And for what?” Holly lowered her voice. “To enter a cooking competition. A cooking competition? You know that means you’ll have to cook, right?”

Abby inclined her head and pressed her lips into a hard line. Sometimes Holly’s sarcasm rankled her nerves.

“Oh, wow.” Holly crossed her arms. “I thought maybe you were exaggerating yesterday.”

“That was before I looked at the accounting records. Mr. Vartebetium has been using his personal savings to balance the books for over a year. He’s also neglected to pay the property taxes for the last four, which that prize money would cover. The inn is hemorrhaging, Holly, and Gran needs stability, especially since her diagnosis.” Abby needed stability.

“And what’s Gran going to say when she hears you sold those rings?”

“Gran won’t say anything, because no one is going to tell her,” Abby warned Holly. “I did what I had to, Holly, and I sent in the entry fee forty minutes ago.” No turning back now. All those rules. No wonder she’d woken up with a headache. “It’s a done deal.” She was locked in tighter than plastic wrap over a steaming bowl.

Hey. She jolted in her chair. She’d learned something from Jason’s cookbook last night after all.

“On the bright side.” Holly shifted her gaze out the glass door. “You found yourself one handsome cooking teacher. Nicely done.”

“Yeah, we’ll...” Abby spun on her stool as she saw Jason bending down to give Cash, Luke’s beautiful golden retriever, a hearty pet of greeting. “We’ll see,” she croaked. He’d certainly never smiled at her like that, and was that a chuckle she heard as he stood up and followed Luke into the diner? If anything she seemed to put his face in a permanent state of disapproval.

“Ladies.” Sheriff Luke Saxon in all his uniformed finery led the parade of his overactive soon-to-be stepson, with Jason bringing up the rear. Cash remained outside the front door, peering inside with a look of resignation.

“Am I too early?” Jason slipped his hands into the pockets of his oh-so-nicely fitted jeans. Abby nearly toppled off her stool but then covered by grabbing hold of Simon and yanking him in for a hug.

Holly straightened to her full height, an amused gleam in her eyes as she glanced between her best friend and Butterfly Harbor’s recent arrival. “Abby’s always early. A good thing for any instructor to know about his student.” Holly strode around the counter and held out her hand. “You must be Jay. Nice to meet you.”