Mixed Match Page 4

  The thursday Julie arrived in Portland it was like the stars aligned. The rain mostly let up so there was only a light drizzle, and, by luck of the draw, on the way to the airport, Sophia's Uber driver, Kara, turned out to be a total foodie godsend. She shared a list of restaurants considered to be the best-kept secrets in town, and she also happened to have a pen and paper to go with her brilliant sense of humor.

  Sophia waited in baggage claim by the carousel listed for the Vegas flight. As soon as she caught sight of Julie, she held up the sign she made. It read: Can't wait to kiss my family Jules. Kara's idea, which Sophia thought was hilarious, and just raunchy enough to embarrass her cousin.

  But Julie didn't even blink. She let out an ear-piercing squeal and flew into Sophia's arms, wrapping her whole body around her. "I missed you, crazy girl."

  Sophia let out a strained laugh, wheezing to catch her breath after Julia knocked the wind out of her. "It's so good to see a familiar face."

  "Is it rude if I tell you I kind of hope you don't put down the sticky roots so you can come back home?"

  "Yes." She pouted, setting Julie down.

  "Okay, I won't say it, then." Julie giggled.

  The lights above the baggage carousel flashed and suitcases and duffels began spilling out. "Yes. There’s mine." Julie yanked a large, shiny black suitcase by the handle and onto its wheels.

  Sophia was pretty happy Julie's bag was one of the first ones to come out. Since Kara didn’t have any other fares, she opted to wait curbside while Sophia hunted Julie down. Sophia ushered her over to Kara’s blue Prius, practically bouncing off the pavement to introduce Jules to Kara and Kara to Jules. Sophia could hardly wait for the three of them to talk weddings and food. And hopefully find out some more well-kept secrets about her new home city. At the very least, she might have made her first friend in Portland.

  No matter how many times she did it, stepping out on faith was still kind of lonely at first.

  As Kara navigated through traffic, their conversation was wild and high-pitched—and any talk of the house or lawyers was strictly banned. As soon as the word wedding floated into the confines of the car, Julie talked nonstop about her Italian wedding. Her colors were ivory and blush pink. "Think elegant and romantic meets classically traditional," Julie exclaimed with fingers spread and hands raised so Sophia and Kara could see her vision. She went on to include lots of silk, low, shimmery lights, and flowers galore.

  Everything and the kitchen sink in just the first ten minutes of the ride.

  By the time they reached Bridlemile, they’d discussed her entire wedding, starting with the bridal getup (tiara, veil, Cinderella ball gown) in exhaustive detail, the Alfa Romeo waiting outside the church, the music playlist (an eclectic range from the Cha Cha Slide to La Tarantella), and Nico's cute cousin, Gianni, who'd apparently seen a picture of Sophia and was already smitten.

  All of which left only about ten minutes for Sophia to exchange numbers with Kara, and for Kara to recommend a great Mediterranean restaurant downtown off Vista.

  Half an hour later, Sophia whipped up a quick bite for her and Julie to eat. They were supposed to be talking about her appointment later in the afternoon with the attorney before Sophia gave Julia the grand tour of Patton Place. When they were armed with their food and their respective glasses of rosé and cabernet, the two women sat on the plush sofa facing the slate fireplace. Though hours would pass before the sun set over Portland, Sophia turned the fire on. It made the room feel cozy and warm. But even with it crackling in the background, she decided to snuggle up with her favorite throw for the rundown on the lawyer.

  "So, he's friends with Liz's boyfriend?" Sophia took a sip of her cabernet.

  "Yes. His name is Jacob Bornstein, and they were in the same fraternity in college, so it's no big deal." She forked a ginger turkey ball. "They help each other out all the time."

  Julie held up her index finger while she finished chewing, savoring the citrusy, tangy-sweet flavor before she began. "Oh, my fucking god. Soph, what are you even doing?" She closed her eyes and swallowed, then licked her lips. "This food is amazing. My taste buds are shooting off fireworks. The flavor," she moaned.

  She moved the plate around under her nose, inhaling deeply. "Hmmm. My nose is in sensory overload. What did you even put in this?" She shoveled in another mouthful. "I can't believe you were in the kitchen for like, fifteen minutes, and you came up with this shit like it was nothing."

  "It's just some ground turkey with chopped ginger and lemon zest. I promise you, it's really not a big deal." Sophia blushed, pushing a thinly sliced cucumber roll around her plate.

  "To you, maybe. To me, I want to stuff my face with it. I want to sleep with it. Bathe in it. Marry it, it's so good. Why in the hell aren't you packaging this shit and selling it? Better yet, take it on Shark Tank so we can both be bazillionaires."

  "I don't know." Sophia looked away and cleared her throat, stabbing a turkey ball with her fork and putting it in her mouth. "It didn't work out before." Her argument sounded weak even to her own ears.

  Which Julie confirmed when she rolled her eyes. "Please. You have an actual ginger root in your refrigerator. A root. Normal people don't have roots in their refrigerator. Plus, you and I both know Fuckhead was the one holding you back." She took one more bite and wiped her mouth before continuing. "Restaurants were practically begging you to come cook for them."

  Glancing around uneasily, Sophia took a deep breath and exhaled. "They didn't want me. They wanted Austin Harman's wife. They wanted headlines." She took a long swig from her wine glass, leaving it only a quarter full.

  "Yeah. Okay, sure. Keep lying to yourself," Julie scoffed. "No restaurateur is going to risk having someone unskilled cook for them just for some publicity.”

  The words hung in the air for the slightest moment and Sophia let the idea marinate while she watched the neon flames in the fireplace. More to herself than for her cousin's benefit, she shed some light on the seed she'd been nurturing.

  "The other day I was walking around downtown, checking out the sights."

  "Uh-huh." Julie nodded encouragement as she dragged her last meatball through the dab of lemon sauce left on her plate.

  "I wanted to visit Powell's books and taste the Voodoo Doughnuts. But while I was walking near the southwest end of Broadway I spotted an empty building. It wasn't much to look at, but there was definite potential. Kind of small, and it would need a lot of work, but all I could see was a quaint restaurant with good food and weird decor. My concept is simple: bite-sized meals for people who want extra flavor without feeling stuffed. People can order as much or as little as they want."

  "I'd be there. With your food and your impeccable taste, I would be there, no matter what size the portions. Probably the first person in line." Julie reached for Sophia's hand. "So, do it already. What are you waiting for?"

  "I don't know." Her heart pounded like crazy. They were only talking about her starting a restaurant and already her nerves were going haywire.

  "After your appointment with Jacob you're going to take me to this place. It's time for you to have something of your own. What else do you have to lose?"

  Sophia thought about it. She didn't have much to lose when it came to the restaurant, but it wasn't everything to her anymore. "Uh, this house? Can we take a minute and remember why you're here? Some shady guy sent a hot messenger to my front doorstep to tell me my days in this house are numbered. I might not even be here long enough to think about putting down roots, let alone starting a restaurant."

  "Okay, first of all, you have a divorce decree and a filed quit claim deed naming you the rightful owner. So, let's just slow your roll there, punchy. Before you go repack your boxes, let's see what Jacob has to say. And also can we talk about how you've totally been holding out. This place is a freaking monstrosity. It's huge. Might as well be a mansion. What the hell are you going to do in this big old place all by yourself, anyway?"

  Sophia cut her a se
rious side-eye.

  The size of the house and what it's worth never factored into the decision for her. It was always about the memories she made there and what the house meant to her now. It was physical proof that she could stand on her own two feet. After all she'd been through in the past two years, it meant she wasn't breakable.

  "You know what I'm saying. If it works out, great—live your fairy tale in this castle. If it doesn't, so what? That doesn't mean you have to come crawling back home to Vegas, all wounded and feeling sorry for yourself. It's time you dreamed a new dream and made it a reality."

  "This place is my new dream, my new start,” Sophia reasoned. “I've been making this house my own, changing things around, painting, buying new decorations. I'm daring to imagine a life without a husband, or Ainsley, or my mother within a five-mile radius. This is it. All my cards are on the table."

  Julie threw up her hands. "Well all right then." Sophia looked on as Julie checked her watch. "Takes care of one thing. We've got just enough time before the appointment for you to take me on the dime tour of the house and spill your guts about this messenger you’ve not-so-discreetly mentioned twice."

  Sophia climbed the stairs with the sound of Julie’s light footfalls behind her.

  "I've already seen the great lawn, the kitchen, the office, the wine cellar, and the flipping French doors. Now, spill.”

  "All right. Okay. Fine. Just let me show you my room real quick," she huffed, even though she was dying to talk about him.

  "Wait. What's in here?"

  Sophia stilled as Julie stopped in front of the door just at the top of the stairs. Her heart stopped and her feet felt like they were stuck in cement. "Do you mind if we skip this one?"

  Julie seemed to notice Sophia’s panic and released the brass knob. She knew exactly what was on the other side of the door. Sophia had called her a million and one times and sent a gazillion photos to show her the progress as she was decorating it, making room in her life. Even with the door shut, the pink and yellow colors and the large “A” monogram framed and mounted above the crib painted across Sophia’s mind.

  Sophia weaved her fingers between Sophia's and squeezed her hand. "After your room, how about we get ready to go?"

  Sophia swallowed. Then she forced a smile. "I'll tell you about the messenger on the way."

  Chapter Four

  "It's not spying."

  Everett's assistant Kendra gaped at him, wide-eyed under knitted brows as she slowly shook her head at him. "Oh, it's not? What would you prefer to call it? A stakeout? Voyeurism? Or how about stalking? Creepy is what I call it. And I'm pretty sure it's against the law in most states." Her hands were planted on her generous hips, and she might as well have been pointing a finger for all the nope she was giving him.

  "Listen, you know the house on Patton Place is going to hearing. All I'm asking you to do is check it out. Maybe have some lunch there. Relax while you listen to one of your audiobooks, or whatever it is you have on your phone. And if you happen to see Sophia Kent, just...let me know where she's going. I need to talk to her. Nothing else." It sounded completely reasonable to him.

  He wasn't asking her to snoop around the property or peep into any windows. He just wanted to know where she would be so he could end up in the same place. How else was he supposed to find out if Mike was right about her?

  "Uh-huh. Yeah, okay." Kendra rolled her eyes and pursed her lips as she sighed. "I better be getting paid extra for this, I know that. Because this is not part of my job description." She stomped off to her own desk in the lobby, and Everett could finally let loose his laughter. The woman was sassy and wild, but she was a team player.

  Plus, he couldn't do it himself.

  What would Sophia think if he showed up at her door without a package, or if he parked his car out front on Patton Place for inexplicable amounts of time?

  This was crazy. Everett couldn’t deny it, but there was too much at stake to leave it all to chance. He wouldn't give up on his promise to his family. The hearing wasn't far off, and if he was going to reclaim his grandmother's home with a clear conscience, he couldn't be in the dark about Sophia Kent.

  An hour later, Everett still couldn't get any work done.

  It was useless. He was a nervous wreck waiting to hear from Kendra, so he packed it up and headed home to grab Blue and let him burn off some energy at the park. And it worked. A little. Between the endless game of fetch and staring at his phone between throws, he was exhausted enough to stop fretting. At least for a while.

  Everett tucked Blue's favorite tennis ball in his pocket and plopped down on a bench. "Let's rest for a minute, buddy. Give you a chance to catch your breath." He placed a portable water bowl on the ground and filled it from his own bottle. Poor Blue, in all of his furry brown splendor, rolled onto his side and let his tongue hang out of his mouth, panting with his belly up. He was out of breath and showing all forty-two of his dog years.

  Everett slipped out his phone and pressed his thumb onto the pad to unlock it. His inbox lit up on the screen with yet another email from his half brother, Joseph Jr.

  Joseph Monroe, Jr. 12:07 PM

  Finalizing Dad's Estate

  To: john.e.monroe@monroeproperties.com

  * * *

  Everett,

  * * *

  I've been trying to get ahold of you. I know you and Dad weren't on the best of terms, but there are some things here with your name on them. They’re mostly documents, but there's also an engraved wooden box and some pictures. Figured you might want to drop by to pick them up. Either way, I'll be here until the end of August packing up the house for the sale. Then I'm heading back home in September.

  * * *

  You may not believe me, but I know how hard Dad was on you. He wasn't the easiest person to be around, but he talked about you a lot. We'd all love to see you and get a chance to spend some real time with you and Zora. No matter what, we're still family.

  * * *

  Hope to see you soon,

  * * *

  Joe

  Everett closed the email and pinched the bridge of his nose. On a heavy sigh, he shook his head. He didn't have time for this right now. His family needed him—the ones who were actually part of his life, the ones who were always there for him. There were promises to keep to his grandmother, and his sister... "Shit. Zora."

  What if Joe reached out to her, too?

  Without thinking, he dialed her number. "Hey." The word came out rushed and he willed himself to breathe. He slouched onto the bench, stretching his legs out. "I saw your missed call."

  Without so much as a greeting, his sister cut right to the chase. "Are we still on for next Sunday?" Relief flooded him. Joe hadn’t gotten to her yet. "I've got a really good idea for a recipe." Last week they talked about having a low-key get-together to watch the Trailblazers in the fourth game of the western conference playoffs. The deal was she would do the cooking and he could enjoy basketball, as long as Everett picked up all the ingredients on her list.

  Food, events, daily life, whatever...there was always a list with Zo.

  "Yeah, we're still on. Text me what you need and I'll pick everything up at the farmer's market this week. What are you thinking about cooking? And how is it going with the agent hunt?"

  Of course, as soon as he got relaxed, a pigeon decided to land right next to Blue, who, along with another chocolate lab he’d been playing with, pounced toward it, nearly causing Everett to drop the phone. Luckily, the leash was still around his wrist.

  "You still there, Zo?"

  There was a slight pause then he heard his phone ping against his ear. He could practically see the bullet points and check boxes lining the page. Then it pinged again. He checked the screen, but it wasn't Zora's list. Instead, there were several messages from Kendra.

  Kendra: I'm downtown.

  * * *

  Kendra: She's with another woman. They stopped at an office building for an hour, and now they're walking on 20th by t
he Mediterranean restaurant and Java Hound Cafe. Am I done with my stalker duties for the day?

  Everett held his breath as he reread the message. He was at Couch Park, which meant Sophia was only a few blocks away.

  Everett: Yes. Thank you. I owe you.

  * * *

  Kendra: Indeed you do. I prefer my thanks in the form of dollars on my paycheck.

  "Okay, you should have the list on your phone now," Zora said with a note of satisfaction. “As for Sunday's culinary masterpiece, you and Mike will just have to wait and see."

  "I'm sure whatever concoction you come up with will be delicious. And I'm going to sit back and watch my Blazers deliver a beatdown in peace."

  He got off the bench and led Blue back to the pavement, where they took off at a quick stride toward the shops.

  "Heel, Blue." Everett tightened the leash as he waited for the pedestrian signal to cross over 20th. He paused for a second, trying to figure out how to get off the phone as he tugged on Blue's leash. "Okay, well..."

  Zora sighed in his ear dramatically. "I got another rejection."

  Damn, he hated to hear his sister sound so deflated. Especially when he needed to hurry up before Sophia moved on. He stopped, ready to give her a quick pep talk about why she shouldn't doubt herself and how these random people just needed a chance to taste her food first. He was going to drive home the point that pictures didn't do her food justice. And how all it takes is one agent to recognize the potential of her cookbook to make it a new food fusion phenomenon.

  But he'd been so busy, stuck in his head, getting pumped up to deliver the motivational speech to his sister...that he failed to pay attention to where he was walking. Everett lost his footing and nearly tripped over Blue as his right shoe came flying off. As he wiggled back into his sneaker and tugged the back over his heel, he took a treat out his pocket.