“Which brings me right back to the matter at hand,” Kimberly told her. “I’m bidding on a last-minute late-September function and I think a multicourse, down-home Southern barbecue would be amazing.”
“As long as the hosts approve it,” Drew interrupted. “We don’t want to make assumptions on their behalf.”
They didn’t? Because wasn’t that exactly what Shelby had empowered her to do? Make things work? And now Drew was flexing muscle in the other direction as if they needed to run things by the bride and her mother. Which Kimberly had every intention of doing, so why was he interfering?
Oh. Wait. Because he was Drew Slade—that’s why. Bossy, assertive and a pain in the neck at the moment, no matter how good he looked in that ribbed black T-shirt and khakis. She sent him a long, cool look, an expression that she hoped telegraphed the feelings behind her words. “Of course, we need approvals, but there’s no way of getting them without pricing, is there, Josie?”
“No, ma’am.” Josie looked from Kimberly to Drew and back again, then smiled. “Give me the specs, and I’ll draw up an estimate with a suggested menu for you by Monday. I’d promise it earlier, but we’re in the thick of boating and tourist season, and anyone who operates a business in the North knows you make money when you can, as you can.”
“How soon would you need confirmation to be able to handle a crowd just shy of three hundred people in five weeks?”
“I’d want firm numbers in ten days. I need time to order the proper cuts and smoke things appropriately. Do we need to do a tasting?”
“Just did.” Kimberly’s smile said she thought Josie’s food passed with flying colors. “Awesome, as usual.”
“Crazy Leon doesn’t let just anyone into his kitchen on the bayou, nor does he release you into the food prep world without making sure you can actually do the job.”
“You worked for Leon?” Daryl hiked both brows, surprised at the mention of one of the barbecue greats. “My mama went to school with him back in the day. She said he was born with a spatula in his hand and a nose for combination elements.”
Josie laughed. “That’s him, all right. I worked for Leon for eight years before I realized I couldn’t handle one more Cajun summer. Not when Canandaigua Lake was calling my name. I relocated here about four years back, and we’re doing okay.”
“That makes three of you that came home,” Amy noted.
Kimberly turned. So did Drew, Daryl and Josie.
“Kimberly, Dad and you,” she continued, looking up at Josie. “It must be a pretty nice place to be if you all end up coming back, right?”
“Except we’re only here on temporary consulting assignment, and Kimberly’s here because her dad is sick,” Drew explained. “Only Josie came back on a permanent basis.”
“There must be something that calls people back, Dad,” Amy argued. “You read it in books all the time. You see it in movies. As if people kind of need to get away, but they leave part of themselves there. In their hometown. And then they come back.”
* * *
The kid had made a great point, so why were her words so tough to hear? Maybe because they were true. Kimberly slung an arm around Amy’s shoulders in a half hug.
“I like your sentimental side,” she told her. “The opposite of your dad. And you know something I’ve discovered?”
“What?” Amy looked up, interested. So did Josie and Daryl. Drew drew his brows together, frowning. Because she thought him dispassionate? Or because Amy was sentimental?
“I forgot how nice this town is. The funny stores and mix of tourists. The traffic around The Square, the endless parade of people at the beach and the five old guys who hang out on the corner of Market and Vine, smoking cigars and playing cards while they watch the world pass by.”
“You’re making a group of feisty old men into a selling point?” Skepticism marked Drew’s words. “That’s a stretch.”
“It’s Grace Haven.” Kim shrugged. “I think when you’re away you get used to a new normal and you forget to appreciate how cool the old normal was. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Well, Pretty Polly sure thinks enough of those fellows to make sure she strolls down Center Street every morning at nine-fifty. Unless it’s raining or a blizzard,” Josie offered, grinning.
“You get blizzards here?” Amy’s voice hiked up. “We get a little snow once in a while in Jersey, but I’ve always dreamed of snowy winters. Sledding. Skating.”
“Shoveling.” Drew looked unamused. He stood and turned toward the door as if he couldn’t wait to escape. “Josie, nice meeting you. I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”
“We’ll look forward to it,” Kimberly corrected him. “You’ve got my number, Josie.”
“I’ll be in touch,” Josie promised. Kimberly would have to be blind not to see her cousin’s look of amusement. Amused at her? Drew? The whole situation?
At the moment, she wasn’t finding Drew humorous, approachable or all that friendly, and that was gonna make for a long five weeks.
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