Page 5 of Cupcake of the Month (Just Add Peaches #2)

Jordan entered the Inn at Fountenoy Hall through the back door as the morning light brightened the sky behind her.

The outside air had stubbornly held on to the late summer humidity.

She had to wait for the fog on the lenses of her squared glasses to dissipate before she could see the kitchen clearly.

She had no official job at the Inn, but she wasn’t one to be idle.

Doing odd jobs made her feel better for not paying Wendy and Brandi room and board.

Jordan could have stayed on the family’s floor of the plantation-turned-inn, but she liked having that little bit of privacy in the renovated stables.

And her friends respected that, keeping in their curiosity about why she had fled south at the beginning of the summer.

They didn’t hound her like the reporters at home angling for a sound bite.

She had closed Shoenover Strategic Management until her civil lawsuit played out, following up with her previous clients and letting her assistant Mark get caught up on mountains of paperwork.

Every so often he forwarded a request from a client, which she promptly told him to reject until she knew if her business would survive.

As expected, Wendy’s and Brandi’s great-aunt Eulalee stood by the large oven, flipping bread pieces in her cast iron skillet, her white hair up in a bun and a homey, red-checkered apron covering her clothes.

Considering the empty egg carton and the sauce bubbling on the stove, she’d been there for a while.

The ever-present scent of peaches from the Fountenoy Hall orchard permeated the air, accompanied by sizzling sounds coming from the stovetop.

Several dirty dishes already waited by the three-compartment sink.

Jordan would get to them after breakfast.

“Good morning, sweetie,” said Eulalee. “How was your time last night?”

“Fun,” Jordan lied. Seeing Josh again had knocked her off kilter. As much as she longed to ignore him, her body’s aching response to him hadn’t changed in eight years. It remembered every delicious detail of their one night together. “I got to meet one of our state representatives.”

“Ooh, rubbing elbows with high society, are you?”

Brandi bustled into the room carrying an empty serving dish and plopped it on the counter. Half of the collar of her Fountenoy Hall blue polo shirt had popped up, and she fiddled with it. “We have hungry people today, Aunt Eulalee.”

“I’ve got more eggs ready.” Eulalee scooted away from the oven to make room. Brandi slid out the warming tray and marched it to the dining room.

It was nice seeing Brandi working Wendy’s meticulously-planned schedule instead of blowing it off like she had when they inherited the Inn from their Grandma Maybelle. Then Brandi had acted like she had no intention of giving up her party-girl ways.

Jordan peeked out the pass-through window to the full dining room. The side tables were each occupied, and two couples sat with Wendy’s boyfriend Rob at the family-style table in the middle. He had spread a map of Claremont in front of him, and another man circled things on it while he talked.

“Those folks are here for the Jeep Festival.” Ms. Eulalee peered over her shoulder. “Actually, the women are going to fawn over the cars while the men explore the town and take a dip in Scarlett Springs. Rob’s pointing out interesting sights for them to see. Want to eat breakfast in here?”

“Sure. Thanks.” Jordan’s phone beeped as she scooted onto a stool at the kitchen island. She picked up the device and repositioned her glasses. The text wasn’t from a number she had programmed into her phone.

You looked beautiful last night.

She had an idea who this might be, though she had deleted Josh’s number years ago. Had he really kept hers? And even after all this time, his words still gave her a topsy-turvy feeling in her belly. Especially when she was still bed warmed. Oy . She had convinced herself she was over that.

Speaking of beds. When had Lana left his? Or maybe she was still curled up beside him, the scent of sex on his sheets and around his room. Jordan hoped he wasn’t that much of a douche, texting one woman while holding another.

“Boy, it sure will be great when we hire a special events coordinator,” Brandi said when she was back in the kitchen. “Someone who can really strategically manage this place.”

“Mmhmm,” Jordan answered, her attention still on the text. What the hell kind of game was he playing with her now after ghosting her so long ago?

She put her phone down, but the unanswered message tugged on her mind and made her fingers twitch. Aw, hell. She’d respond, but he was damn well going to work for it.

Who is this?

She envisioned his small smile and the slight shake of his head as he read her message. She ate her breakfast and pretended to not wait for his reply.

And not wait.

And not wait some more.

Seriously? He was such a jerk.

She stuffed a forkful of French toast in her mouth. The sweet taste of Ms. Eulalee’s homemade maple peach syrup more than made up for Josh’s lack of response.

Not really. But telling herself that helped.

Brandi hustled back into the kitchen with dirty plates. “Yup. That coordinator will definitely make a difference. Especially one who already knows the way the Inn works. Right, Jordan?”

“Do you have any candidates yet?” Jordan asked.

Brandi twisted her mouth as footsteps sounded on the servants staircase.

Wendy made an appearance in the kitchen, laser-focused on her tablet.

Her brown hair was pulled back from her face, not daring to escape the barrette clipped atop her head.

She glanced at the clock on the microwave when she hit the bottom step.

“Are we running a little late today? Being on time sure will be easier when we get a social coordinator. Don’t you think so? ”

“Serving breakfast will be easier with a social coordinator?” Jordan asked.

“You know, so I can help instead of being interrupted with questions about the venue and Brandi can focus on Belle’s.”

“Right.” Jordan’s phone beeped, but she fought its lure to figure out why her friends were acting so weird. For all of five seconds.

Josh.

“And who put that dorky smile on your face?” Wendy asked.

“No one.” She put her phone down. “It’s the wonderful scent of peaches.”

“Dinner is going to be good tonight!” Eulalee peeked into the oven. “Man, those tarts. Now I have to figure out what to serve for the actual meal.”

The older woman closed the oven, then prepared the sanitizer for the three-compartment sink. Rob came into the kitchen and sat next to Jordan while Wendy passed the dishes from the dining room to Brandi.

Jordan made sure they weren’t paying attention to her before she sent a response. I’m surprised you noticed. And I see you remembered how to use a phone.

This time, she put her phone on mute.

Jordan cleaned the dishes, scraping bits of food into the trash before putting them in the wash sink.

There were too many to finish before the staff meeting, but at least she could put a dent in the pile.

Wendy had told her countless times she didn’t need to be there, but it helped Jordan know what was going on and where she could be of help.

Plus it let her focus on something other than words that rhymed with lending pawsuit .

When everyone gathered around the island, she dried her hands and checked her phone one last time.

I had to watch a tutorial. His next text came soon after. See you, Jay.

She sucked in a quick breath. Damn it all. He was the only one who ever called her that. He was the only one she had allowed to call her that.

“Do I need to take your phone away?” Brandi teased.

“What?” Jordan glanced up and found four pairs of eyes staring at her.

“Meet a guy last night?” Wendy asked.

“No.” She tucked her phone into her back pocket. It wasn’t a lie. Technically, she and Josh had known each other for years.

“Our first discussion of the morning,” Brandi said. “Who believes her?”

Rob raised his hand.

Jordan lifted her chin to stare down her nose at her so-called friends. “Thank you, Rob. And now I know who I can count on.”

Rob retrieved Wendy’s tablet from the counter and settled in next to her, his hand making lazy circles on her back. The simple intimacy gave Jordan’s heart a small, wistful pang.

“The morning meeting of Fountenoy Hall has begun. Aunt Eulalee?” Wendy asked.

“I decided on pork chops with a peach chutney for dinner. Anthon is getting better at using our recipes before putting his personal spin on it.”

“So no cranberries in the meatloaf next time he makes it?” Wendy asked.

“I think he learned his lesson when no one ate it,” Eulalee said. “He’ll have great stories to tell about the backwater Georgia Inn he worked at when he becomes the chef at some five-star establishment.”

Wendy gave a huff of laughter. “The man does have an ego.”

“Still,” Brandi said. “Who puts cranberries in a southern meatloaf?”

“Northerners,” Jordan said. It sounded delicious. Anthon was a pompous bastard, but he did know his way around the kitchen.

“He tames right down when he needs to. I think he’s embarrassed to admit he’s learned a few things in my kitchen that they didn’t teach him at his fancy cooking school.”

“Anything else, Aunt Eulalee?” Wendy asked.

“One thing.” The older woman fiddled with edge of her apron.

“I’m going on vacation in two weeks. I’ve already talked to Anthon and he agreed to take over dinner most nights.

Since none of you can cook worth a darn, we’ll close the restaurant on the nights he can’t make it.

We need someone to take on breakfast, but if we can get one person to do that and cover Anthon’s absences, that would work out better. ”

Silence filled the large kitchen before Brandi and Wendy spoke at the same time. “You’re doing what?” asked Wendy.

“Way to go, Aunt Eulalee! You deserve a vacation,” said Brandi.