Falling Sweetly (Starling Falls #2) (5 page)

BOOK: Falling Sweetly (Starling Falls #2)
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“You still have the keys for the house too?” I asked puzzled.

“Yeah, it comes in useful.” Caleb said vaguely.

I gasped as something finally clicked. “Do you guys come over when I’m not here and steal food?”

Caleb and Liya exchanged a shifty look. “No, of course not,” Liya said, looking away guiltily.

“Oh my God. I thought I was going mad or that I had started to sleep eat, or that Shadow had somehow found a way to open the fridge door to get food!”

Liya bit back a smile, “We’re sorry?”

I rolled my eyes at her very insincere apology. “I’m calling a locksmith to change the locks tomorrow. What is it with people and stealing my food?”

“Who else has been stealing your food?” Liya asked with a curious frown.

Sighing heavily, I retold the story of ‘Disastrous Date No. 3’, tactfully choosing to leave out the ‘big girl’ comment.

Liya had always been overly protective of me and knew the hang-ups I had about my body. I knew she would have lost her mind if I’d told her the whole truth, and the guy had been a jerk, but Liya’s wrath was not something I would ever inflict on anyone.

When I was done, both Caleb and Liya were trying hard
,
but unsuccessfully
,
to hold back their laughter.

“Like I said before,” Liya managed to choke out through barely suppressed giggles, “an intervention is much needed.”

“He didn’t seem like a weirdo on his profile! He seemed like a perfectly nice, normal, ordinary accountant.”

“Well, your weirdo radar is clearly fucked,” Liya said, her eyebrows raised, “Oh! Cal, why don’t you set her up with one of your hot fire-fighter friends.”

“Who exactly do you think is
hot
?” Caleb asked as he frowned at Liya.

Her teasing smile returned. “Oh, I don’t know. Your Captain is pretty hot, and that pervy Italian one, even the one with the baby-face is kind of-”

Caleb let out a growl, which sounded more animal than man, and interrupted Liya by kissing her firmly, though from my point of view, it mainly looked like he was trying to devour her face.

I rolled my eyes as I got off the couch, knowing that in about ten seconds
,
their making out was probably going to lead to clothes being destroyed.

“You have your own house to do this in now,” I reminded them over the cringe-inducing sounds of their kissing.

And I’m being ignored. Fantastic.

I continued talking to them regardless. “You know, for two grown-ups, you sure do act like horny teenagers. It’s like you’re constantly in heat.”

Ignored yet again. Maybe if I were to throw a bucket of water over them?

I decided against this plan when I realised it would only result in a soggy couch and a soggy couple still making out.

I hope they don’t end up breaking the lamp again, I just had that fixed.

I erred on the side of caution and proceeded to unplug and move the lamp far away from the danger zone.

Looking around the messy living room, I decided that cleaning could wait until tomorrow and walked towards the stairs, trying to avoid looking at the disgusting display that was happening on the couch.

“I’m going to sleep. Lock up when you’re... um… done?”

I took the vague grunt as a yes and began to climb the stairs, smiling when Shadow appeared from nowhere and wound his body around my ankles.

“Hello there you, handsome devil. Did the loud, drunk ladies scare you into hiding?” I picked him up and nuzzled his fur, and got some sweet cat kisses in return.

“I don’t know why Liya thinks you’re possessed. You’re the sweetest kitty ever.”

As I mentioned, my sister had some issues. Apparently thinking that Shadow was possessed by a cannibalistic demon, which was intent on eating her face off, and that Freddy our goldfish had mind-controlling powers, were two of those issues. 

Yes, I know.

I feel sorry for me too. This was the crazy person I had grown up with and still had to deal with on a daily basis.

As I entered my room and placed Shadow on the bed, it struck me that the longest and most functional relationship I’d had with anyone, apart from my sister, was with a cat.

“I’m a cat lady at twenty-four. I’m too young to already be a cliché, surely?” I asked Shadow, and he meowed at me in what seemed to be a very reassuring manner.

“Oh, you charmer. You always know the right things to say,” I told the little feline as I scratched behind his ears.

I was going through my usual bedtime routine when I heard the message alert sound on my phone.

I made a face when I saw the message was from the taxidermist I had gone on a date with a week ago.

 

Weirdo No 2:
Hey. Want to go to the zoo this weekend?  I love to see the animals when they’re walking around alive…

 

I eyes widened in alarm as I turned the screen of my phone towards Shadow.

“Is it just me, or do those ellipses seem slightly sinister to you too?”

Meow
.

Taking his meow as a ‘yes’, I hastily typed out a polite response that indicated I would not be interested in seeing any form of animals with him, living or otherwise, as I was busy, and I would remain busy for a very, very long time.

I set my alarm for four a.m. so I could be at the bakery to start baking by five. Climbing under the covers, I felt Shadow curl up into a ball at the foot of my mattress.

I sighed heavily as I switched off the lamp on the side table and closed my eyes, trying to ignore the clawing feeling of loneliness that always seemed to make an appearance at night.

Friday night
,
and your only source of company is a cat. That’s sad, Niki, real sad.

 

 

CHAPTER 4

 

Jacob

 

3 weeks later

 

“We’ve had another cancellation,” Martina said, as she walked into the kitchen. “That’s the sixth one today.”

“Motherfucker,” Tisha said, looking up from the food she was plating.

“How many days this week have we actually had a full restaurant?” I asked Martina.

“None,” she said bluntly. “You have to go see Marco and the accountant today. I don’t know how much longer we’re going to be able to do this for. The overheads and the amount we’re paying for the lease alone are going to kill us.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to get rid of the permanent migraine I seemed to have had for the past month, since that fucking review that still haunted my dreams had been printed.

Not that I had been sleeping much at all, but when I did sleep, those vicious words kept floating through my thoughts.

I supressed a shudder as the memory of the review I must have read at least a hundred times, because apparently I’m a masochist, echoed in my mind again.

Leaning against the service area, I closed my eyes, wishing that it was late enough in the day to start drinking.

Tisha poked me hard in the side to get my attention.

“You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you? Stop thinking about it, Jake! We still have our jobs to do.”

“How the hell do I stop thinking about everything going to shit, Tisha?” I asked her, feeling annoyed, before turning to Martina.

“Have you got an answer from the magazine about retracting the article, or having one of their critics to come here again, so we can cook for them properly this time?”

Martina shook her head unhappily. “They finally got back to me. They’re not going to be able to send anyone out here again for the next couple of months
.
Apparently, their schedule is full. It didn’t sound like they believed our story about what happened anyway. The lady I spoke to said it sounded ‘too farfetched.’ And they’re not willing to write a retraction until they can send another critic.”

“A couple of months? We can’t survive another couple of weeks of this.” I ran my hands through my hair in exasperation and tugged on the roots painfully. 

“We’re all trying the best that we can here, Jake. I’ve contacted other restaurant critics, and invited them to come eat here, to try to offset some of the damage, but there haven’t been many takers.”

“Son of a bitch. The things that I want to do those two assholes…” I growled as I slammed my hand against the steel table, startling a waitress who walked by.

“You know what? You’re no good to us in this state. Leave for the day, and go find Marco, instead. Then go talk to that stuffy accountant and see what we can do to try to salvage this,” Tisha said, putting the plate on a tray and handing it to the waitress.

Martina nodded her head in agreement. “Go. Tisha and the rest of the staff can manage. It’s not like we’re bursting at the seams,” she said bluntly.

Fuck it. They’re right.

They way I’m feeling right now, being around all these sharp objects probably isn’t a good idea anyway.

“I’m going to try and track down Marco first. Call me if you guys need anything, though the cell service up there may be bad.”

“Up? What do you mean? Up where?” Tisha asked, with a frown.

I sighed my answer at her, “Up in the mountains.”

 

* * * * *

 

I cursed as a branch I brushed aside, flew back and hit me in the face. As I spat out a mouthful of leaves, I wondered again how everything had gone to shit so quickly.

Fighting my way through the dense foliage, I felt like kicking myself for not having worn more comfortable clothes. I tugged my shirt free from a bush with thorns, and cursed again when the shirt ripped and the thorns scratched my skin.

I kicked out at the bush in annoyance and managed to snag the hem of my jeans on another deadly looking thorn.

So this is what my life has come to, kung-fu fighting with plants in the mountains while on some weird expedition to find my insane old mentor.

I was almost tempted to start shouting “Marco” to see if I would hear a response of “Polo” from him, but I resisted, as I had no idea if I was going in the correct direction.

“Okay, think Jake, think. Where was he last seen?”

By the lake.

“Okay, he never stays in one place for long, so where would he go from there?” I grunted in frustration, ignoring the wary looks I got from a couple who walked past me quickly, obviously in a hurry to get away from the crazy, rapidly pacing man talking to himself.

“He would need water. Where can you get water besides the lake?”

Follow the river, idiot.

“Right! The river. Shit. Which way is the river? Hey! Couple walking away quickly, do you know which way the river is?” I called after them loudly. “Hey, why are you running away? Don’t make me chase you, I swear I’ll do it! I’m a man on the edge!”

I started to walk after them, as the man yelled over his shoulder, “Just keep going straight on the trail and you can’t miss it… lunatic.”

“Thank you! And the lunatic comment was unnecessary but understandable! Have a good day!” I quickened my pace and continued along the uneven trail, listening for the sounds of running water.

I stepped in a muddy puddle, completely soaking the sneaker and sock on my right foot. “Son of a bitch.” The sneaker squelched unpleasantly with every step I took.

Fuck my life.

When I finally got to the river, I looked confusedly in both directions, not sure which way I should start walking, when I saw a slender figure of a man with a long grey beard walking downstream holding a shovel.

“Marco?” I called out hopefully.

Please don’t be a serial killer in the process of burying a body.

The man turned and my eyes widened in surprise as I took in my former mentor. The year he had spent up here in solitude had not been kind to his once smooth, now leathered and weather-beaten, skin. His hair was mostly grey and his beard was straggly and tangled.

It’s as if a hippie, hobo Gandalf decided to recreate Castaway, but up in the mountains instead of on a deserted island.

“Jake?” the older man asked in a confused tone, his French accent coming through strongly, “What are you doing here?”

“You know, I was in the area. Thought it would be a good day to drag my tired self up here, and wander around for a couple of hours, looking for your crazy ass,” I told him, pissed off from the quest of searching for him.

He frowned at me, not saying a word. And when those intimidating grey eyes bore into me, I immediately felt eighteen again. He raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Sorry,” I said contritely. “It’s been a long day. Hell, it’s been a long fucking month.”

“Hm. Come. Let us have a cup of tea, and you tell me what has happened to make it so long.” Marco’s soothing voice acted helped to calm my frayed nerves.

Marco Toussant was a half French, half Italian, wholly insane and eccentric man, who had moved to the States over thirty years ago when he’d become bored living in his native France. He came from a wealthy family, but had decided to leave that life behind him when he moved.

He had worked at various kitchens, from dive bars to Michelin starred restaurants, before he happened upon Starling Falls, when hitch-hiking, and decided to stay and open his own restaurant here.

From a young age, I’d known that I wanted to be a chef. As soon as I had been old enough to start experimenting in the kitchen, that was where I had chosen to spend most of my time. I’d like to think I had shown natural talent from an early age (Well, that was what Aunt Deb had said, though she may have been slightly biased.).

Okay, so there may have been an incident involving peanut butter, jelly and catfish, which may have caused some dry (and some not so dry) heaving, but I still maintain that the recipe wasn’t
that
bad. It was certainly not bad enough to warrant upchucking on the rest of the food I’d made.

BOOK: Falling Sweetly (Starling Falls #2)
13.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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