Chapter
One
Morning sun streamed
through the wide windows of the lower floor office of Five Cuisines. Greg
Ramsey typed the last item on the week’s menus. He checked the list of supplies
needed and sent
orders to the various venues. Monday mornings when the restaurant was closed
had become his planning day.
He loaded the heavy
paper in the printer and began the process of producing the menus for each of
the five rooms. As the papers slid from the printer he heard a light tapping at
the door.
“Come in.”
When his mother
entered he rose and lightly hugged her. “Your timing is perfect. Just finished
creating the menus for the week.”
Stella Ramsey, tall,
slender with a gray streak in her dark hair, kissed his cheek. “How is my
handsome son?”
“Pleased with our
success.” Six months ago they had opened the restaurant and they were on their
way toward becoming a profitable venture. For the past month there had been few
empty tables at either evening seating. Even on Wednesday and Thursday they’d
been solidly booked. The weekend brunches were gaining the attention of people
who came to browse in the antique shops and other unusual stores in
the Hudson River village.
He reached for the
letter that had arrived last week. The offer could make or break his dream. He knew
little about the magazine Good Eatin’ other than a spread was eagerly sought by
the nation’s restaurants. As his silent partner, his mother had a voice in
whether they should chance a bad review.
“What was so
important you asked me to cancel my lunch date?” She smiled. “Please tell me
you’ve found a weekend hostess.”
He shook his head.
“The job is yours until you say you’ve had enough.”
“Might be soon.”
He arched a brow.
“Something serious happening in our life.”
She laughed. “You’ll
be the first to know. What about you? Have you met the woman of your dreams and
the one who will make me happy?”
“When do I have
time?”
“Make time. Several
of the sous chefs are young and attractive. Ask one of them out.”
He held up a hand.
“Not going there. They’re taken and I only poach eggs and a few other foods.”
She sat on the chair
beside his desk. “So what’s the news you’re bursting to tell?”
He handed her the
letter. “This arrived the other day. The offer could be a sweet opportunity”
As she read he
studied her face. Her expression changed like the weather. His mother’s beauty
always made him smile. He’d always wondered why she hadn’t married again. Had
she mourned her father for fifteen years? He recalled the nights when he’d been
awakened by their angry voices raised in accusations.
She touched the
silver streak in her dark hair. She scowled. “You will not let those people near Five
Cuisines. I won’t have them here.”
The venom in her voice surprised him. “Why not? I hear a feature in Good
Eatin’ will place us among the top restaurants in the country.”
“I won’t let him use his magazine to destroy you the way he ruined your
father’s dreams.”
“What are you
talking about?”
“Peter
Blakely, editor of Good Eatin’ of the Good Magazine Group, deliberately used
his wife’s magazine to destroy Le Provencal.”
Greg rose and
went to her side. He’d been sixteen when the tragedy had occurred. His father’s
suicide had brought drastic changes in their lives. “Why would this Blakefield
do that?”
She stared at
her hands. “Your father told me his family and Peter’s had been at odds since
they arrived in this country during the colonial days. Your father and Peter
became rivals in high school. I met Peter in college. We fell in love and were
engaged but we had a fight. I broke the engagement. Peter wanted no part of my
parents’ restaurant. Victor heard about the break-up and comforted me. He went
to work for my parents and we were married. Peter was furious. He threatened to
destroy Victor. He waited for years until he found the right time and he
succeeded.”
“How?” Greg met
her gaze.
“He wrote
dreadful articles about the food and the ambience. Victor had made changes in
the décor and the menu. People stopped coming. The shame caused your father to
take his life. Victor had always been mercurial and volatile. When he drank
depression brought him low.”
“Do you have
copies of these articles?”
“Your father
wouldn’t let me read them. He burned them. Promise you won’t let these people
near Five Cuisines.”
Greg looked
away. Her comments disappointed him. Until he learned more about this feud he
would hold off sending a letter of regret. “Are you sure this is the right
decision?”
She looked away.
“Yes.”
There was more
to her story but he wouldn’t pry. He took the letter from her, folded the paper
and placed it with the envelope in the center drawer. “I’ll handle this later.
About the feud. Is there any reason for us to be involved?”
“Drop the idea
of a feature. Peter Blakefield doesn’t forgive or forget.” She rose and walked
to the door.
He had no idea
how to discover what had been said about his father of Le Provencal. He didn’t
want to slam the door on an opportunity. Maybe she would change her mind. He
shook his head. An ancient family rivalry. How medieval.
* * *
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