With A Little Help

AS NATE DROVE TO THE HOSPITAL, his mind grappled with the complications his team had reported about one of their patients. Normally, he’d have options mapped out by the time he got there, but his thoughts were distracted by his meeting with the lovely Emma.

She didn’t want anything to do with him, so why was he determined to have her mastermind his celebration dinner? Was he so used to his team jumping when he snapped his fingers that he’d forgotten how to handle rejection? He hated to think so, and yet…he felt an attraction for Emma Jarrett that he couldn’t pin down, like the first taste of a weird and wonderful food. He craved more of her while suspecting she wouldn’t be good for him. She didn’t like him. She didn’t like doctors, he corrected. Hardly surprising given the way her family regarded her choice of career. When Cherie had heard Nate’s assistant joshing him about his upcoming birthday and asking what he was doing about a party, she’d recommended Emma, but had made far more of her daughter’s single status than her catering skills.

Cherie was wasting her time matchmaking. Nate hadn’t missed the way Emma frowned every time he took a call this morning, or the flicker of frustration when he announced he had to go to the hospital. He’d been through it all before in his own family.

When his mother could no longer stand the round-the-clock demands of his father’s country medical practice, she’d carted twelve-year-old Nate back to Sydney, eventually moving them in with her lawyer. She and Josh were still a couple. His father, coming up to retirement age, was the country town’s only doctor and worked much longer hours than he preferred. He had never remarried.

Three years ago, Nate had been practically engaged to Pamela Coyne, a stunningly beautiful journalist who’d turned his mates green with envy. Hot in every way a woman could be hot, she’d run cold after finding herself attending too many functions alone because he’d been called away by an emergency. The final showdown had been ugly, but short of abandoning his life’s work, Nate couldn’t see anything changing. A doctor’s life was what it was. Eventually Pam had told him what he could do with his medical degree, and was now living with a stockbroker.

After so many years as an only child, Nate had been surprised when his mother presented him with a half brother, Luke, now fifteen. The gulf between their ages meant Nate felt more like an uncle to Luke, and they didn’t have much in common. Luke was into skateboarding, fast cars and music Nate thought barely qualified for the name. The teenager stayed away from school when he felt like it, and hung out with a group that worried his parents. Nate had tried talking to Luke man-to-man, but the gap was too wide. Nate had always envied large families and hoped to have one of his own. But the mother of his kids would have to come from the medical world and understand its pressures. With his thirty-fifth birthday fast approaching, the prospects weren’t looking good.

He hadn’t exactly been a lone wolf. He’d had his share of romances, parting without too many regrets on either side when the relationship ran its course. Now that he thought about it, he was shocked to realize that there’d been no romance in his life for nearly three months. No wonder he’d reacted so strongly to having Emma come on to him at that Christmas party.

Abstinence was his problem, not Emma, he decided, muttering as a white SUV cut in front of him. Who was he kidding? Only after meeting her had the craving for a lasting relationship really set in. It wasn’t only sex he needed. He wanted a sense of home and family, the stuff hardest to come by. Kids might be too busy to meet dad at the door any more, and wives kept equally long hours as their partners did, but they could still be a team. The SUV stopped for a red light. A yellow tag in the rear window read Family on Board. How would it feel to have a sign like that in his car?

He drummed his palms against the steering wheel in frustration. Turning thirty-five was getting to him. He should go out with Emma, take her to bed and enjoy the experience until one of them moved on. The fear that he might not want to stopped him. She was definitely the wrong candidate. He’d seen too many danger signals already. Hands off was the only safe policy, even though the idea clashed with his instincts like a misdiagnosis.

CHAPTER THREE

SOPHIE STUCK HER HEAD around Emma’s office door on Tuesday morning. “Are you in for phone calls yet? I’ve had six inquiries so far and two new clients wanting to book events. One of them’s a wedding a year from now.”

“The Nathan Hale effect?”

“Yup. Word’s getting around.” Sophie carried in Emma’s Garfield mug. “Chailatte. I thought you’d appreciate it.”

“Thanks.” Emma cleared a small space to let Sophie put the cup down among the recipe books, cards and handwritten notes swamping her computer. “You’d think my mother would wait until we’ve done the job before telling everyone she knows.”

Another mug in hand, Sophie sat down. “No pressure.”

Emma sipped her tea. “It doesn’t help that Nate’s closest friends have either cooked or eaten some of the best meals in the world. I looked up his gourmet group online and two Michelin-starred chefs are members. How do you think they’d like white truffle donuts and basil-infused snails?”

“About as much as I would.” Sophie linked her hands on the desk. “I prefer the food my Chinese grandmother makes, simple but delicious. A few fresh ingredients, mostly from her garden, although she draws the line at snails. To her the main thing is all of us sharing the meal. Although that’s probably nostalgia speaking.”

With Garfield halfway to her mouth, Emma froze, staring at Sophie. “Nostalgia—that’s the answer! Soph, you’re a genius.”

Sophie gave her a measured look. “O-kay. I mean, you’re right about the genius part, but what did I say this time?”

Ignoring the recipe cards and papers showering the floor as she moved, Emma leaned forward. “Remember I told you about seeing Nate’s kitchen after our meeting last Friday?” Not waiting for Sophie’s nod, she plunged on. “It’s the kind I dream of putting in here—acres of stainless steel work surfaces, the latest Italian appliances, refrigerators big enough to live in. You could run a restaurant from his kitchen. And you know what?”

“No, what?”

“He hardly sets foot in the place.”

“Doesn’t he employ a cook?”

Emma shook her head. “Joanna, his housekeeper, says cooking isn’t in her job description, and he doesn’t have any other staff. She told me he eats out almost every night, or has a restaurant deliver. The most he ever does is put together a snack or a sandwich for himself in the butler’s pantry, which is practically another kitchen.”

“What a waste. But knowing this solves his catering problem how?”

Emma stood up, her efforts to pace hampered by the papers on the floor, so she sat down again. “I did some research on our Dr. Hale.” She didn’t add it was as much for her own interest as to get an idea of his lifestyle. “His parents split up when he was twelve. His dad is a country doctor living alone, and his mother lives in Sydney with her partner and their fifteen-year-old son.”

“Sounds fairly typical,” Sophie observed. “You and I are the minority these days with two parents still married and living in the same house.”

“Exactly my point,” Emma went on. “We all want what we don’t have.”

“Including Dr. Hale.” Sophie sounded as if she was starting to understand.

“You got it. By chasing exotic foods and recipes, I’d be giving Nate what he already has, when I should be giving him what he doesn’t have.”

“Meals like Mama used to make.”

“Except his mama never made them. If his life was like the family of most country doctors—or city ones for that matter—his father missed more meals than he showed up for. Or they’d sit down to eat when his father was home, then be interrupted by calls. Being dragged out at all hours would be normal.” Emma knew she was talking about her own family as much as Nate’s.

Sophie got her drift. “And when they moved to Sydney, his mother was working, providing for them both. I’m thinking pizzas and fast food.”

Emma dragged her fingers through her hair, spiking it. “No wonder he likes exotic foods now. And going out to eat must feel more normal than family dinners around a big table.”

Sophie grinned. “Is that what you’re thinking of giving him for his birthday?”

“You betcha. I’m picturing wonderful homemade dishes, big bowls of fluffy mashed potatoes, fruit and ice cream and rum babas with cream. How long is it since you had rum baba?”

“A long time. I used to think they were so sophisticated because of the alcohol oozing out of them.” Sophie tilted her head to one side. “At least we’ll have heart specialists on hand. This plan sounds decadent enough to send you straight to the cardiac ward.”

Emma shook her head. “Food can taste decadent without the artery damage. We could create the family dining experience by making grown-up versions of all that comfort food.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Emma couldn’t see what. “It’s perfect, I know it is.”

“The idea is brilliant, but who’s going to produce this bounty? I can help you with the prep work ahead of time, and I’ll be on the spot for the first hour, but I have an important oral exam I can’t skip. Carla’s working that night, and Margaret will be in Bali, so they can’t help. You’ll be doing the lion’s share of the work on your own.”

Emma spread her hands. “I can’t not do it, Soph. You said yourself we’re getting inquiries purely because word of mouth has us working with Nathan Hale. Can you imagine what will happen once we actually deliver the goods?”

“The business will go from struggling to booming,” Sophie said. “Why couldn’t this chance have come up after I finished my course?”

“Murphy’s Law. We’ll manage somehow.” Emma spoke with a confidence she was far from feeling. “If you don’t need me in the kitchen, I’ll turn this harebrained scheme into a workable proposal to show Nate when he comes here later today.”

Sophie stood up. “I can manage, thanks. I’ve finished prepping lunch for the lady bowlers. Plenty of time before I have to deliver everything to their club room. What can I do to help?”

“You can contact some furniture rental places and find out what it would cost to rent a stack of big, old-fashioned dining tables and chairs.” Emma’s mind was racing. “The chairs wouldn’t have to match. In fact it’s better if they don’t. They should look like they came straight out of Grandma’s dining room. I’ll include the costs in the budget for Nate’s approval.”

“On it, boss.” Sophie sounded excited. “Where are you going to get the nostalgic recipes?”

“I don’t have to look far for inspiration.” Emma rummaged among the pile of books on her desk and came up with the one she wanted. “Jessie’s Kitchen, by Jessica Jarrett.”

Handling the well-thumbed book bathed Emma in happy memories. As a little girl visiting her grandmother, she had enjoyed many of the foods described in the book. As well as her own recipes, Jessie had included some her mother and grandmother had handed down to her, creating a fifty-year history of family food, studded with anecdotes of her life as a young mother on the outskirts of Sydney. Early in their marriage, Jessie and her husband had lived not far from East Hills, then the last stop on the suburban railway line. Their house was set in the middle of acres of rugged bush between East Hills and Heathcote.

The book fell open at Jessie’s never-fail sponge cake recipe and Emma’s mouth watered, recalling the feathery lightness of the cake filled with cream and Jessie’s home-made strawberry jam, the top cloudy with icing sugar. Gramma had given her a big wedge of the cake as consolation for getting lost in the bush. Emma had been picking flowers when a bee flew at her. She’d screamed and run, not stopping until she stumbled into a shallow creek, splashing water around to scare the bee away. Only then did she realize she didn’t know the way back.