beans with pancetta, gooseberry and elderflower fool, and courgette and chocolate cake.’
He looked surprised. ‘Courgette and chocolate cake? Are you sure?’
She smiled. ‘Did you taste the courgettes in it yesterday?’
‘That was courgette and chocolate cake?’
‘Yup.’
He spread his hands. ‘What can I say, other than that you’re a culinary genius, Lily Finch?’
She gave him a tiny bow, acknowledging the compliment. ‘We didn’t tell the kids, either. Until they’d scoffed it.’
‘Kids?’ he queried.
Ah. She hadn’t intended to tell him that. ‘Never mind.’
‘Talk to me, Lily,’ he said softly. ‘Kids?’
She flushed. ‘My friend Hannah, who works with me—she takes my trials to her daughter’s nursery school. Depending on what it is, they either use it for the children’s break-time snacks or offer it to parents in return for a donation to nursery funds.’
‘That’s good of you.’
She shook her head. ‘This might be a nice middle-class area now, but there are still quite a few kids around here who have nothing. Nursery’s the only place where they get to play with toys and books. So this is my way of giving something back.’ That, and offering a romantic dinner for two cooked by Elizabeth Finch at the nursery’s annual fund-raising raffle. Because she owed Hannah for supporting her through the mess of her divorce—and she never forgot her debts.
‘It’s still a nice thing to do.’
She wriggled on her seat, not comfortable talking about it; he clearly noticed, because he moved over to the window and changed the subject. ‘Nice garden.’
‘I like it,’ Lily said. ‘Though it’s not just flowers. There’s a raised bed at the bottom which I use for vegetables, and there are pots of herbs on the patio.’ She joined him at the window. ‘And there at the bottom is my Californian lilac. My favourite shrub—it’s a mass of bright blue flowers in May, and it attracts all the butterflies.’ She shook herself. ‘But this isn’t getting any work done.’
‘Tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.’
‘I can’t think of anything.’ Well, she could—but none of those things were on the agenda. At all. She raked a hand through her hair. ‘I just need to finish editing my article, and make sure I have all the ingredients in so I can make at least four sets of everything tomorrow—one finished article, two showing the cooking process at different stages, and a spare in case there’s a last-minute hitch.’
‘Give me your recipes, and I’ll check the ingredients for you,’ he said.
‘Thanks, but I’d rather do it myself.’
‘You don’t trust me?’
‘I’d rather do it myself,’ she repeated. ‘I can see at a glance if I need anything. It’s quicker than explaining.’
‘You’re not a team player, then.’
Not since Jeff’s betrayal. She’d vowed that she’d never, ever have another business partner again. It had been devastating to lose the restaurant she’d worked so hard to build. Even though it meant that Amazing Tastes couldn’t expand, it also meant that she couldn’t lose the business she loved because of someone else’s failings. Been there, done that, worn the T-shirt to shreds. ‘I don’t have a problem with my colleagues in the kitchen.’
‘But you have a problem with me?’
She nodded. ‘You’re…distracting.’
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