Page 9 of Cupcake of the Month (Just Add Peaches #2)

Josh’s phone rang, and he shrugged out of his backpack before reading the display. Bonus – it wasn’t a federal prosecutor asking him yet again if he knew where Marian and Clint were. They checked with him every few months and it was about that time. “Hello?”

“Is this Josh Lukasik? My name’s Brandi Clayton, from Fountenoy Hall.”

“This is him.” Her face immediately came to mind – blonde and beautiful with different colored eyes. Fountenoy Hall was familiar to him because of catering talk, though he thought it was owned by an older lady.

“I think I…did we know each other in college?”

Her name slammed into place. They had met, while he and Jordan were doing their pre-mating rituals. “Yeah, I think so. Softball, right?”

“Right.”

Berry clunked down the stairs, hauling a ladder and with a bucket resting in the crook of his arm.

He lifted his chin in acknowledgement as he rested the ladder against the wall near his front door.

The maintenance man did his best to keep the residents happy with the meager funds sent by the absent owners. Josh returned the greeting.

“So, listen,” she continued. “We’re in a bit of a peach jam over here. My aunt is taking a long-awaited, well-deserved Paris vacation, but she won’t leave until she has someone she can trust to take over the breakfast service.”

“Okay.”

“You work for Barb at Barb’s Catering, right? And I think I’ve seen you at Essie’s doing cooking demonstrations. You looked familiar but I couldn’t place you.”

“Yeah that’s me.” Was she for real? Two days after Jordan witnessed him prostituting himself at Essie’s, he gets a call about working from her friend?

“Someone recommended Barb, but when we called her, she gave us your name as a possibility. If you’re interested, we could really use the help.

First you have to meet my aunt and pass muster.

Then we’d have you in for a week of training with her, and then the two weeks she’s gone, and then time after she comes back for her to settle in.

We have someone else coming to cook dinner, but he can’t do every day, so there’s opportunity there for you as well. Sound good?”

Hell yeah, it sounded good. To get the words executive chef on his resume?

But the temporary part held him back. It left him with no employment or income when her aunt returned. His chest hurt as he turned her down. “Thanks, Brandi. It sounds like a great opportunity, but I can’t leave the job I have.”

There was a pause while she caught her breath. “You can’t?”

From all he remembered about Brandi, she wasn’t a woman who heard no from a man very often.

But he had a reliable job. With steady hours.

It came with a sucky manager, but it was still work that gave him a paycheck beyond trip a to Paris, and kept him and Zach in their shithole of an apartment. “Sorry. Not for a temporary position.”

“Well, don’t make a final decision yet, okay?”

Waiting wouldn’t change the dollar amount in his bank account, but he didn’t want to burn this bridge. “Okay. But you should try to find someone else.”

She implored him one more time before he managed to get off the phone. When he started up the stairs with the rickety bannister, he heard the click of Berry’s door closing.

Josh took the stairs two at a time until he reached the third floor, then veered into his apartment. Zach entered a minute later.

“You haven’t gone to the Sumners’ yet?” Josh asked.

“No, I was helping Vela move some furniture and got all sweaty.”

“That was nice of you.” Josh took the bag of marked-down chicken out of his pack and put it in the fridge.

He’d have to cook it tonight or tomorrow so it wouldn’t go bad.

Mix it with macaroni to make it last the week.

Maybe throw in some lemon and basil. There were probably capers in the fridge that he could add, too.

“Let me change out of my stylish ensemble and then we can head upstairs.”

“Okay.”

Josh noticed a pile of thick, ripped paper next to the sink. The orange and yellow striped pattern matched the one in their bathroom. “What’s this?”

“Oh. That.” Zach stopped on his way to wash up. “Can we get new wallpaper?”

Josh briefly closed his eyes. “Why did you pull it off?”

“I didn’t mean to. I thought if I pulled on the loose part, it would rip off that little bit.”

“Why did you keep going after that?”

“I dunno.” Zach shrugged. “It was there. I wanted to see what was underneath.”

“Yeah, don’t do that.” That wallpaper had to’ve been there since the fall of Rome anyway. Tearing it all off might even be an improvement.

“I made a casserole for tonight in case you were too tired to whip up something.”

“Oh, thanks, buddy.” And they still had leftovers from Thursday’s fundraiser that he could bring as well. Josh headed behind the partition that created his bedroom and shucked off his clothes. “All your homework done?”

“Almost. Got some English left.”

Josh pulled on something that resembled clean and shoved his feet into his shoes. “Let’s go.”

He and his brother grabbed the food and climbed one flight up to the Sumners’ fourth floor apartment, where a group of residents gathered for dinner and camaraderie. It made for a crowded and noisy night, but it was a good way to start the week.

Berry was right behind them as they entered the small living room where people had already gathered. The aroma of garlic, onions and peppers permeated the air.

Vela greeted him holding a bottle of wine and a corkscrew. “Can you open this?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer, only took the pasta and bag of hors d’ouevres from him and headed through the living room into the kitchen.

He followed, embracing the smell of tomatoes and beef, and wiggled the cork out of the bottle. He poured a taste into a glass waiting on the counter. It was okay, but he’d let it breathe before pouring more.

These Sunday dinners had been a regular occurrence for a couple of years.

The fifteen families who lived in the run-down building knew all they had to do was open the Sumners’ door.

Over time, the residents became a family.

They all pitched in to do what they could for the others.

Vela helped the Sumners with their grocery shopping.

Lucy helped change the oil in Marty’s car.

There was always someone to call to keep Zach company when Josh had a late night.

He’d be lost without these close-knit people in his life.

Mrs. Sumner popped one of the salmon croquettes in her mouth. “Josh, did you make these? They’re divine.”

“Leftovers from a party,” Zach piped in.

“Brat.” Josh reached out and tousled his hair.

Mrs. Sumner took the wine and poured some into the beef.

“You don’t want to get us all drunk, do you?” Mr. Sumner asked. “That’s too much.”

His wife made shooing motions with her hands. “Get out of my kitchen. All of you.”

Josh kissed the top of her grey-haired head, happy to oblige. Mrs. Sumner’s cooking rivaled four-star restaurants any day of the week.

Zach made a beeline to the floor behind the sofa, watching Marty’s girls play a phone game. Which meant Josh had to prepare himself for the familiar argument that Zach needed a phone. The Sumners continued their good-natured arguing. Marty had a beer and was watching the football game on TV.

And Josh could finally relax. He sat on the couch, watching the game until Mrs. Sumner called them all to the table.

Everyone had brought a little something to supplement the main dish, so the feast was a cacophony of various foods which, while Josh would never serve together for a catered meal, worked well for a home-grown pot luck.

The easy chatter and lack of pressure helped him unwind from the stress of the week and mute the physical ache of seeing Jordan again.

He had no doubt that ache would return when he was alone in his bed.

Berry furrowed his eyebrows and cleared his throat. “Why’re you getting phone calls from that fancy inn in Claremont? Fountenoy Hall? You planning a vacation?”

“No. It’s nothing.” He wasn’t planning to tell Zach. So much for the relaxation he had envisioned. “Can someone please pass the rolls?”

Berry picked up the basket. “Didn’t sound like nothing to me.”

Josh held out his hand for the bread and waited him out. Berry handed them over.

Zach narrowed his eyes from across the table. “What’s going on, Josh?”

No matter how much he could gloss over the situation with everyone else, he strove for honesty with his sibling.

Except for when it came to the mail. And his part in Zach’s parents’ arrest and trial.

As much as he loved the people around him, he kept personal details to himself. “We’ll talk about it later.”

Zach made a circular motion with his hand, indicating Josh should continue.

Fine. “I got offered a temporary job there.”

“Doing what?” Mrs. Sumner asked.

Josh tore his roll in two. “As the chef on the morning crew.”

The residents gave appropriate noises of excitement, but he held up a hand to stop the cheering. “I can’t take it.”

“Why the hell not?” Berry asked.

“I thought you wanted to be a chef,” Vela added.

“It’s temporary.” He tried another tack. “Besides, I already have a job.”

Zach snorted. “Some job.”

“It pays the bills, Zach.”

His brother glared and crossed his arms.

Zach didn’t wear obnoxious teen well. Josh put down his fork, unwilling to air his financial laundry in front of the neighbors. “I’m not discussing this now.”

His brother pushed away from the table. “You never discuss anything,” he muttered. “Don’t bother. I can do it for you. It’s temporary. We need steady income. Whatever.”

He was right on all counts. “That steady income keeps your caseworker off my back.”

“Stop using me as an excuse! I think you’re too scared to chase something you really want.”

Josh sat back with that pronouncement. It wasn’t what was happening. “Zach—”

“Ah, maybe we should all take a break,” Lucy said in her placating teacher voice. Her wide hazel eyes looked pained. “Deep breaths. More wine.”

Zach slumped in his chair and stuffed a forkful of noodles in his mouth.

Conversation at the table came to a standstill until Lucy jumped in with a story about how one third-grade student managed to remove the classroom globe from its stand and roll it around.

The ensuing laughter relaxed everyone at the table, though Zach still shot him sullen glances.

After dinner they gathered around the TV to watch the end of the game. It was a blowout, which let his mind wander. To the brunette that had haunted his thoughts for the past eight years. And to the uncomfortable tightness in his jeans.