The Marriage Recipe

For income, Rachel had negotiated eleven dollars an hour to work at Kim’s. Her grandmother had wanted to pay her more, but Rachel knew that any money for a higher salary would come from her grandmother’s pocket and not the restaurant’s cash register. Kim Palladia lived comfortably, but Rachel didn’t want to be in debt to her family. It was time she faced the music.

Starting with heading to the law office of Lancaster and Morris, which had provided legal expertise to the town of Morrisville for over fifty years.

Rachel tugged on her coat. She’d walk across Main Street, through the parking lot, and be in the law-office lobby before her bravado deserted her. She dreaded hearing what Bruce Lancaster would have to say. He was one of the sharpest legal minds in the state and a former childhood playmate, but she had to admit she was petrified he’d tell her that Marco had a legitimate claim to her recipes and she’d have to turn them over.

“I’m leaving,” she called.

Her grandmother waved. “See you at home tonight,” she said. She’d moved in eight years ago, adding another body to the Palladia homestead. The century-old Victorian home, which stood on a half-acre lot, was really too big for just two people. But it had been in Rachel’s father’s family for two generations, and Rachel’s mother simply couldn’t bear to part with it. Rachel knew that her mother hoped she’d eventually move home and raise a family in the old place. She hated disappointing her, but figured all those years in New York City were a clue that she didn’t want to be a small-town girl.

The blustery March wind whipped down the street, causing the Easter decorations hanging from light poles to sway. Morrisville had signs for every holiday. The current ones displayed a white bunny carrying an egg-filled basket and advertised the annual Knights of Columbus Easter-egg event the middle of the month.

Rachel gathered her coat closer, and soon was inside the first set of huge wooden doors. She crossed the black-and-white tile floor and pulled on the next set. Lancaster and Morris was situated in the former county seat, an old court-houselike, three-story building complete with a rotunda. Colin Morris used to say there were two coveted offices in the place: the Morris office, which overlooked Main Street, and the Lancaster office, which overlooked the town park. Rachel strode over to the receptionist, seated behind a huge desk.

“May I help you?” the girl asked.

“I’m here to see Bruce Lancaster. If he’s available,” Rachel added hastily.

“Do you have an appointment?” She had to be about twenty, Rachel decided, and already she had a wedding ring on her finger.

“No.” Gosh, she really was an idiot. “I’m Rachel Palladia. My grandmother owns Kim’s Diner. She’s a client here.” Rachel had no idea whose, but Lancaster and Morris had handled both her father’s and her grandfather’s estates.

“Mr. Lancaster is out of town for the next two weeks,” the receptionist said politely. “He and his wife—”

“Oh, yes, Christina. I didn’t attend their wedding, but my mother and grandmother went.” Rachel smiled helpfully. “Is she available?”

“No, she’s out of town, as well. I can see who else could meet with you, if you’d like. If no one is available today, I’d be more than happy to set up an appointment for some other time.”

Rachel sighed with frustration. She’d have better luck just walking next door this evening, bringing Reginald Morris an apple pie and asking for his advice after dinner. “No, that’s okay. I’ll take care of it.”

She turned and began the trek back across the marble floor, the rubber soles of her tennis shoes squeaking. She’d just reached the outer set of doors when one of them opened as if of its own volition. The motion threw her off balance, and she plowed right into the man walking in.

“Careful there,” he said, his bare hand catching her arm in an attempt to steady her. His wool overcoat slapped around his legs and his briefcase banged his knee. “Gotta look where you’re going,” he chastised her lightly.

“I was,” Rachel replied, her patience a tad on the thin side.

“As long as you’re okay,” he said. It was then that they both took a good look at each other. “Rachel?” the man said. “It is you.”

Colin Morris stood in front of her, blocking her escape. “Hi, Colin,” she replied.

He smiled. They were still in the vestibule, and he let the outer door close behind him with a thud. “It’s good to see you. I heard you were in town.” His blue eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?”

“What, in town?” He hadn’t grown dense over the years, had he?

He frowned. “No. Here. Where I work.”

“Oh. I wanted to catch Bruce, but he’s away.”

“Yeah, his wife’s pregnant and soon she won’t be able to travel with Bella, her little girl. Christina and Bruce decided to visit her side of the family now, while she’s still mobile.

“So, you’re home for a while?” he asked conversationally.

“Yes. You know, I do come home occasionally. In fact, I was home this past Christmas,” she said, chafing. “I met Christina then. She came briefly into Kim’s to pick up some of my mom’s chicken salad. I’m in and out so quickly that I don’t have time to see everyone. Most of my friends are all married and busy with their own lives. I have managed to keep in touch with Heather.”

“Yeah, but not with me or Bruce. You didn’t attend his wedding. I thought I’d run into you there. We haven’t caught up in years.”

“I was in the Hamptons that weekend with a prior commitment.”

“Oh.” He arched his eyebrows disapprovingly, as if he found hobnobbing a poor excuse for missing a friend’s nuptials.

Rachel exhaled, blowing a strand of wind-tossed hair off her face. She didn’t want to get into any discussion with Colin here, in between doorways. The man had no right to judge her. She might be back in Morrisville, but the friendship they’d shared was long past. She was all grown-up now, and not so enamored with Colin’s playboy ways.

“It’s been great catching up, Colin, but I’ve really got to get back. Kim’s closes at three, but there’s always cleaning to do. I said I’d help.”

“You’re working there now?” he asked.

She gritted her teeth. “Temporarily. I have a few matters to take care of, which is why I came by to consult Bruce. I’ll just visit your dad tonight. Take him and your mom a pie.”

“He always had a sweet spot for you and your desserts,” Colin said with a laugh. When he grinned, the harsh angles of his face softened. He could frown and remain drop-dead attractive; smiling made him a heartthrob. Sadly, even after all the years away, Rachel found herself not immune. He had been her secret crush for so long. That had to be the reason she experienced a tingle in her toes and a shiver along her spine. The man was simply magnetic. Like Marco, Colin probably affected a lot of other women this way.

“So what do you want to talk to Dad about?” he asked, pushing the inner door open. “I’ve got some time and we’re blocking the exit. We need to either go one way or the other. Why don’t you tell me about it.”

“Really, I’m not going to be here in Morrisville that long and—”

He stopped, his foot holding open the lobby door. “Look, Rachel, if it’s something legal, my father has a pretty tight schedule for the next few weeks. He’s due in court two days from now as the defense counsel in what’s shaping up to be a huge and long trial. If you want some advice, I’ll help. We are still friends, aren’t we?”

She wavered. Friends. That was all they’d been until her heart had gotten in the way. Even afterward, the feelings had been one-sided. Hers.

Oh, she’d once made the mistake of thinking that he’d asked her out, but it had been only one of those “in passing” things that people say to be polite. She and Colin had snuck outside with a half-size bottle of pink champagne. The liquor had made her fuzzy, and they’d kissed, but that had been it. Nothing more.

The next day, life had returned to normal and she hadn’t needed a prom dress after all—at least, not until her senior year. By then, Colin and Bruce were college sophomores at Indiana University. The girl next door could never compete with the sophisticated girls the two dated. After her high-school graduation, Rachel had turned her back on Morrisville and headed east.

“Are you coming?” Colin asked.

Rachel stared at him. Same blond hair, blue eyes. Same sexy-as-all-get-out grin. But she was older. Wiser. Colin no longer meant anything to her. All she wanted was her recipes and Marco Alessandro put in his place. Bruce wasn’t available, and Colin could help her. She’d at least listen to what the man had to say. That didn’t cost a thing.

AS COLIN PUSHED the elevator button for the third floor, he remained extremely aware of Rachel. Even though they hadn’t spoken walking across the lobby, he’d sensed exactly where she was behind him. He’d heard during a partner meeting yesterday that she’d returned—gossip in Morrisville traveled faster than lightning. Tongues had wagged about how Rachel had been engaged to some hotshot restaurateur in New York and she’d said good riddance to him.

“I’m down here,” he said as the elevator doors opened. His corner suite was on the Morris side of the building and had a bird’s-eye view of Main Street, including Kim’s Diner. Two years ago faulty wiring had caused the diner to burn to the ground, leaving little but a large pile of ashes. He’d expected Rachel to come home then, but she hadn’t. Thus he suspected there was more behind her current relocation. Colin hung up his jacket.

“Can I get that?” he asked.

“No, I’m fine,” Rachel said, removing her coat and sitting in the wingback chair across from his desk.

So she was still stubborn. That hadn’t changed.

“I like your office,” she said.

“Thanks,” he said politely, drinking in the changes to her appearance. Growing up, she’d always worn her hair in a bob. Now it had grown out to past her shoulders, and she’d swept her bangs off her face. The longer style suited her. She’d filled out nicely, as well, he noticed. The red, long-sleeved Henley fit like a glove.