Death of a Kitchen Diva (Hayley Powell Food and Cocktail Mysteries) (26 page)

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Authors: Lee Hollis

BOOK: Death of a Kitchen Diva (Hayley Powell Food and Cocktail Mysteries)

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Hayley immediately shut off the burner and dumped the pot of water into the sink. She turned to see Gemma halfway up the stairs to her room.

“So how old is he?”

“I don’t know. A little older than me.”

“How much older?”

“He’s a senior.”

“Seventeen?”

“Eighteen, okay? Come on, Mom, enough with the third degree.”

“I’m not convinced it’s wise for you to be dating an older boy.”

“Stop being so overprotective. I’m old enough to make my own decisions,” Gemma said, continuing up the stairs to her room.

“So what time do we have to be there?” Hayley asked.

Gemma stopped cold. “Be where?”

“The coffeehouse. We’re not staying late, because I have a column to write.”

“Mom, you’re not invited.”

“It’s a public event. And I’m sure Reid will appreciate an extra body there to help fill the house.”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because I don’t like the idea of you dating someone I’ve never met, and since I know you—and that you will never bring him around to meet me—this is a nice alternative to me actually crashing one of your real dates.”

Gemma opened her mouth to protest, but then thought better of it. Her mother was right. Her meeting Reid in a public place was much better than her “coincidentally” showing up at a restaurant where they were having dinner, or volunteering to chaperone a school dance and hovering too close to them while they slow-danced.

“Fine!” Gemma sighed. “But we have to be there by seven-thirty.”

Hayley didn’t like the fact that she would be out late. She just wanted to pour herself a glass of red wine and write her Wade Springer column. But her kids came first. She had to do this.

The coffeehouse was half-full when they arrived on time at seven-thirty. Lots of teenagers sipped lattes and flavored teas and were slouched over wooden tables talking. Hayley guessed she was the oldest one in the room.

Gemma had dressed to the nines and stood out from the others, who were in jeans and T-shirts. Hayley refused to sit alone at a table in the back, much to Gemma’s chagrin, and joined her at a table up front directly in front of the microphone that had been set up.

The coffeehouse owner, a frizzy-haired woman in her late twenties wearing a bulky wool sweater and jeans skirt, stepped in front of the mic and gave a quick rundown of upcoming events before turning it over to Reid.

Hayley almost gasped out loud when Reid entered from the back, a guitar slung around his shoulder. No wonder Gemma was so googly-eyed and excited over the attention he had shown her. The kid was incredibly handsome with the face and body of a male model. His brown hair was scraggly and mussed and he wore thick glasses that hid his eyes, but otherwise he was perfect.

Hayley glanced over at Gemma, who was the only one wildly clapping. It took a moment for everyone else to catch up. After most people stopped applauding, Hayley had to physically restrain her daughter from clapping anymore, so Reid could start his song.

Reid launched into his number, and Hayley was surprised by what a soothing, melodic voice he possessed. He also played the guitar well, and Hayley noticed he quickly had the crowd in the palm of his hand.

When it was over, Gemma jumped to her feet, forcing everyone else to haul their butts up out of their chairs to give Reid a standing ovation. Reid looked over at Gemma and gave her a wink.

Yeah, the kid was cute. Probably a heartbreaker, too. But Gemma was right. Hayley had to let her make her own decisions and her own mistakes.

Hayley and Gemma hung around long enough for the crowd to thin out and Reid to finish accepting accolades for his performance from his friends.

Finally, when the coffeehouse was nearly emptied out, Reid ambled over and gave Gemma a warm hug.

“Thanks for coming,” Reid said with a smile that lit up the room.

Hayley had to gently grab Gemma by the elbow to stop her from swooning.

“This must be your sister,” Reid said with a straight face, nodding to Hayley.

The easiest line in the book to impress a girl’s mother. But damned if it wasn’t effective one hundred percent of the time.

“Oh, God, no! That’s my mother!” Gemma screamed.

“I had her very young,” Hayley said, but then caught herself. “But I’m not condoning motherhood at an early age whatsoever.”

Reid laughed.

“You were very good,” Hayley said, and meant it.

“Thank you, Mrs. Powell,” Reid said. “That means a lot to me.”

The kid had obvious talent and a laid-back charm. He was hard to resist.

“Can I buy you two some coffee or tea?” Reid asked, slipping an arm around Gemma. Her body jerked slightly from the thrill of his touch.

“No, we need to get home. I have some work to do before tomorrow,” Hayley said.

“Yes, Mom’s a columnist for the
Island Times
and has left things to the last minute as usual. I, however, have already finished all my homework and would love to join you for some tea.”

Checkmate.

Hayley decided not to drag Gemma home with her. The coffeehouse owner was stationed behind the counter and could serve as a makeshift chaperone. And Reid seemed like a nice enough kid. So she told Gemma to be home by ten, and turned to leave. As she was heading out the door, she heard Gemma say breathlessly, “Your singing gave me goose pimples. Look, I still have them.”

Hayley walked the short distance home and wondered why girls always fall so hard for a guy with a handsome face and a nice singing voice. She thought Gemma would go more for someone with brains, a whip-smart college prep kid with plans to be a doctor or lawyer. But no, she was obsessed with the soft-spoken artist who had a way with a guitar.

Where did she get that from?

Oh well. No time to ponder that question. Hayley had to get home and write about her idol Wade Springer.

KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

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ISBN: 978-0-7582-7766-4

ISBN-10: 0-7582-6737-1