Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Gabe waited for Madison in the courtyard on Sunday morning. He had mixed feelings about their conversation last night. He'd opened up to her about his father and the love letters, something he'd told no one else. He didn't know why he had, except it had been on his mind all week, and it had been surprisingly easy to talk to her while sitting in the dark under the stars.

They actually had a lot in common. They were both obsessed with food and being chefs and running their own restaurants. They were competing for the same prize, both dreaming of what that prize could do for them.

He hoped the competition would not only bring him the cash he needed to invest in his business, but also give him the connections he needed. He might not have a rich father with rich friends, but all he needed was someone who wanted to invest in him, which meant he had to prove he was as good as every pedigreed chef out there. But Madison and ten other chefs were standing in his way. He would have to beat all of them to get the prize. And it would probably be easier to beat Madison if he stopped talking to her, spending time with her, hearing about her dreams, sharing confidences.

He shifted his weight, checking his watch. She was five minutes late. He hoped she wasn't going to bail, but he probably shouldn't be surprised if she did. She had a tendency to put her walls back up as soon as she realized she'd let them down.

"Hey, Gabe," Liam said, interrupting his thoughts.

He smiled at Liam and Ava, who had just entered the courtyard, each holding a cup of coffee. They both looked relaxed and happy in shorts, T-shirts, and flip-flops. Ava had become a much more chill person since she'd moved to Ocean Shores. "Good morning. How's it going?"

"Great," Liam returned. "And congratulations. We heard you won the first round of the competition and are moving on."

"That's right."

"We also heard our newest tenant was your partner," Liam added.

"She was. Madison made the perfect sauce for my perfect lamb."

"Sounds like the perfect match," Liam said with a gleam in his eyes. "But isn't this the chef who runs the restaurant you were hoping to get?"

"Yep," he said shortly, beginning to tire of that old story. "But that's behind me. I'm focusing on the present. Madison and I were able to work together well in the first round, but we'll have to go against each other in the next one."

"I'm sure you'd like to beat her, considering she beat you out for the restaurant," Liam said.

He shrugged. "I need to beat everyone, not just her. Maybe we'll be battling at the end if we keep winning. We'll see what happens." He paused as Madison came down the stairs wearing a thin-strapped blue sundress, her blonde hair falling around her shoulders, her legs bare, with a pair of sandals on her feet. She was so pretty, his gut clenched at the sight of her.

"Battling, huh?" Liam murmured quietly as Ava said hello to Madison. "I think you've already lost that war, Gabe."

"Can't afford to lose it," he said cryptically.

Liam gave him a speculative look, then said hello to Madison.

Madison turned to him with an apology in her eyes. "Sorry I'm late, Gabe. I couldn't find my tote bags after moving, but they were buried in my closet." She held up the two canvas bags in her hand.

"No problem."

"Where are you two off to?" Ava asked.

"To get some fresh produce at a farmers' market," he replied.

"Is that for the competition? Are you already doing your next challenge?"

"No, we're buying for our businesses. We should probably go. We'll see you two later."

"Later," Liam echoed as they walked away. He was very aware of the curious eyes following their exit, but he couldn't worry about it. Gossip was rampant at Ocean Shores, but it was usually good-natured. And it didn't matter what anyone else thought. He knew what was happening with Madison, and that was nothing. Because that's the way she wanted it and the way he wanted it, too.

Well, at least some of the time.

And as he opened his car door for her, he silently admitted it didn't quite feel like nothing.

What the hell was she doing? The question went around in Madison's head as Gabe drove her to the garden collective. She told herself she just wanted to see this fabulous market he'd told her about, but that answer didn't ring true because she could have gone on her own. Instead, she'd chosen to go with him and spend more time with him, for reasons she refused to acknowledge. She knew she was getting too caught up in this man, but there never seemed to be a good time to pull away.

"You're not much of a talker, are you, Madison?" Gabe said, interrupting her thoughts.

"What?" she asked, glancing over at him, realizing she'd been distracted for at least a few minutes.

"You're not very chatty."

It wasn't the first time she'd heard that. "I speak when I have something to say."

"Okay," he said evenly. "Then tell me something about yourself I don't know."

"You know very little about me," she pointed out.

He gave her a dry smile. "Well, you are the woman who refused to even exchange names the first time we met. Why was that, anyway?"

"I told you at the time I just didn't want to have another boring conversation about where we went to school or what our favorite colors are."

"My first conversations with a woman are usually more interesting than that."

"Well, my first conversations with men I meet at bars are not."

"Why don't you tell me about your mom?" he suggested, ignoring her comment.

"Why?" she asked, feeling a little wary at the personal question.

"You've mentioned your father and your overachieving siblings. I'm curious about your mother. What's your relationship with her?"

"It's good."

He gave her a pointed look. "You can do better than that."

"Why do you care what my mother is like?"

"It's called getting to know you."

"We don't have to get to know each other."

"But we can, right? There's traffic. We have time…" His voice drifted away.

She let out a sigh, realizing that it was either talk or sit in the growing tension between them. "Fine. My mother is creative. She likes to decorate. I think she wanted to be an interior designer when she was younger, but she married my dad when she was twenty-three. Then she had three kids and a busy husband, so she ended up taking care of all of us. When we got older, she started volunteering a lot, and she helped her friends decorate their houses." She paused. "My mom is very kind and sweet. She loves us a lot."

"But…" He shot her a look. "There's a but, right?"

He was more intuitive than she would have thought. "There's not a but . She was a good mom. I just sometimes wished she'd stood up for herself a little more," she admitted.

"For herself or for you?"

"Both. She likes to keep everyone happy, and when my father isn't happy, no one is happy. So, she plays peacemaker. Because my dad and I are often at odds, she had to do that a lot between us, and sometimes it felt like she could have said more in my defense. But that's probably the twelve-year-old girl in me talking. In retrospect, she did encourage me to pursue cooking, which was my passion. And last year, she was the one who encouraged my father to talk to Larry about getting me into the restaurant. He was resistant at first. When his name is on the line, he likes to have control, even if it's just about recommending his daughter to his friend. I wouldn't have even accepted his help if I hadn't just lost my job because the executive chef brought in a good friend and couldn't use both of us. I'd been working hard toward the goal of having my own restaurant and getting nowhere so I couldn't say no to my father helping me, even though I knew it would put him in the middle of my business."

"Does he have a say in the business?"

"No. But he's in Larry's ear all the time. And my father doesn't want me to embarrass him by letting Larry down, so I have pressure from both of them. I have to make the restaurant work. Larry wants to see results in the next four weeks."

"Or what?"

"I didn't want to ask. I can't fail, though. That's not an option." She cleared her throat. "But I'm sure the last people you want to hear about are my father and Larry. Why don't you tell me more about the collective we're going to?"

"There are about a dozen farmers now. Some work there full-time, others grow their produce elsewhere and then bring it to the market. My mother does a lot of the administrative work and keeps in touch with everyone. She knows every farmer and what they're growing and how they're doing."

"Did she garden, too?"

"No. Never. She was a teacher for a long time, but when my dad died there was a void, and she filled it so that the collective would keep going. She now spends most of her time there. We may run into her today. She's usually there on Sunday mornings, since it's the busiest day for the market." He paused as he turned into a crowded parking lot. "And we're here."

"Along with a lot of other people," Madison commented. "I don't know if there's any parking."

"Don't worry. I've got this."

The market was behind a large fenced-in area with a wide gate and banner announcing the times of the open-air markets. Beyond the market, she could see extensive fields where the vegetables and herbs were grown, and excitement ran through her at the idea of picking up some really fresh produce right out of the field.

Gabe bypassed the public lot, turning down a small alleyway and parking in a reserved spot.

"Special privileges?" she asked.

"Yes. It's one of the few legacies I've inherited from my parents, a family parking spot."

He was being sarcastic but not bitter, and she appreciated the difference. Despite his lack of privilege, he seemed to really love his family.

She grabbed her tote bags and followed him out of the car as he popped the trunk. He had two large coolers in the back and a couple of canvas shopping bags.

"We'll shop and then put our bags in the coolers," he said. "Keep everything fresh until we get home."

"That's a good idea."

He grabbed his bags, then shut the trunk, and they walked through a side gate and into the market, where a festive air of food and community enveloped her. There were two long rows of booths, but at this end of the market there was also live music and tables set near a coffee and pastry booth.

"This is much bigger than I expected," she said.

"It grows every year. My mother hasn't just kept the collective going, she's actually increased the number of participants. Are you looking for anything particular today?"

"I'm looking for nothing and everything," she said, feeling a little giddy with excitement.

He smiled. "You look like a kid in a candy store."

"That's exactly how I feel. I love getting the freshest ingredients. It makes such a difference."

"So do I, and I have to warn you, I like to go slow and look at everything."

"That's exactly what I want to do." She was eager to explore the market with someone who had the same interest and joy as she did. The few times she'd taken a date to an open-air market she'd been forced to rush through it because her date got bored within five minutes. But Gabe was different. He was as happy as she was to take the time to really study the vegetables, to talk to the farmers, and pick out the best of the best.

As they made their way down the line of booths, they munched on samples so fresh the flavors exploded on her tongue. She bought way too much of everything, her tote bags full before they'd reached the last booth. But Gabe still had a little room in his, so she filled his bags to the brim as well.

When they were finally done, they decided to grab a coffee, but before they could get in line, an older woman with dark hair and eyes approached them.

"Gabe," the woman said, throwing her arms around Gabe. "I wasn't sure if you were coming today. You were very vague about your plans when I spoke to you."

"I wasn't sure I'd be able to come with the competition going on."

"We are so excited you won the first round. And with this lovely woman, too." She sent Madison a beaming smile. "I'm Gabe's mother. Theresa Herrera. I must say the photos online this morning did not do you justice."

"Online photos?" she echoed.

"Yes. They posted them this morning: photos of you and Gabe and your wonderful meal. We are so proud of both of you. You must both come to the house for lunch," Theresa continued. "I want to hear all about the competition, and how you put those ingredients together."

"Oh, I don't know," she began. "I'm sure Gabe can tell you everything."

"Actually, I still don't know all the ingredients you put in your jus," Gabe said.

She gave him a questioning look. "Are you sure?"

"My mother doesn't take no for an answer."

"He's right, I don't. And it's not just for me," Theresa said. "Ana, my mother-in-law, Gabe's grandmother, wants to know all about your sauce. She's the original cook in the family, where Gabe got some of his inspiration. Please join us."

Theresa was so friendly and determined, it was impossible to say no. "Okay, I'll come."

"That's wonderful. I'll meet you both at the house," Theresa said with a happy smile.

As his mother left, she turned to Gabe. "Are you really okay with this?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"It's your family, your mother, and your grandmother."

"I'm aware of who will be at lunch," he said with a smile.

"They think we're partners, but I'm the person standing between you and your dream. I didn't just get the restaurant you wanted; I'm competing against you."

"Again, I'm aware of all that."

She tilted her head to the right as she gave him a thoughtful look. "Why are you suddenly being nice to me? Why do you want me to meet your family? Do you have a hidden agenda?"

He grinned. "One thing you should know about me, Madison, is that I never have a hidden agenda. If I have an agenda at all, it's in plain sight. It's like when I parked my truck down the street from your restaurant. It was not hidden at all."

"Larry did notice your line when he stopped by last week. You got his attention."

He tipped his head in acknowledgment. "I'm glad. I wanted him to see how strong my customer base is. But it was somewhat of a petty move."

"Somewhat?" she echoed.

"Okay. It was a petty move," he admitted. "But it turned out to also be a good business decision. My customer base has increased since I moved out of the parking lot at Maverick's. It's easier to park at the new location and I'm not competing with Maverick's fish and chips and burgers."

"Just my restaurant," she said dryly.

"Well, if people want to eat at your restaurant, I doubt they'd stand in line at my food truck and vice versa. I think we can coexist, don't you?"

"Yes. But I'm still standing between you and twenty-five thousand dollars."

"And I'm standing between you and that prize as well," he returned. "Having lunch together won't change that. Today we'll be friends. Tomorrow we'll be competitors."

She couldn't help wondering what they'd be the day after that…