Molly frowned and looked down at her black and gray sweater and slim fitting black pants. “Black is supposed to be slimming,” she responded tartly.
“You’re not allowed to worry about looking fat on camera,” Ellie said as she came into the kitchen. “Not when you’ll be standing next to your sister wearing a pup tent.”
Ellie was in fact wearing a very cute lilac colored tunic that hid her minuscule bump over black legging that showcased her still enviably slim legs.
“I read that when you’re on camera you’re supposed to wear something with a pop of color,” Adele said, “so you don’t fade.”
“You definitely won’t fade,” Molly said as she took in her mother’s outfit which included a blouse that looked like it had been fingerprinted by Anthony, paired with lipstick red jeans.
“And I see Brady has taken extra care with his wardrobe,” Molly jibed.
His shoulders rippled under the soft cotton of his black t-shirt pulled from his seemingly endless supply as he shrugged. “The producers said they wanted to capture a typical day in the restaurant—it’s not like I cook in a tux.”
She rolled her eyes. Not like Brady needed any help anyway. She had no doubt that once the
Simply Delicious
segment aired, female viewers would be scrambling to come to Adele’s Cafe just to get a look at their mouthwatering chef.
The wardrobe smack talk ended abruptly with the arrival of the
Simply Delicious
crew, including the show’s host, celebrity chef Reggie Caldwell.
They all started for the dining room and Brady caught her arm. “I was only kidding about the outfit.” He bent low so only she could hear. “Your ass looks fucking amazing.”
Molly’s cheeks flooded with heat as she went out to meet the crew.
With her dark brown hair spilling over her shoulders, big brown eyes, and trademark wide smile, Reggie was even prettier than she was on TV. She was also, Molly was relieved to see, as nice in person as she was on TV. “I’m Reggie,” she said with a big, warm smile and quickly introduced the rest of her crew, which included her producer, Carrie, the cameramen, Bryan and Paul, and Reggie’s assistant, Natalie, who also happened to be her sister.
Reggie then walked around the tables, shaking hands and greeting customers, thanking them for being here and participating in the shoot.
“Are you kidding me?” Vivian Decker said as she grinned at Reggie, clearly star struck even though her daughter-in-law was one of Hollywood’s most successful actresses. “I’ve watched your show from the very beginning and I have all your cookbooks!”
And anyone who wasn’t a fan of Reggie before couldn’t help but be now as she charmed them with her infectious smile and genuine enthusiasm about her job.
“When are you due?” Ellie asked, pointing to the very prominent bump straining against Natalie’s green t-shirt. With her long blond hair falling nearly to her waist and dark green eyes she was as pretty as her sister.
“Not until January, but and I already feel ready to pop.”
As they bonded over pregnancy, Molly and Brady talked to the producer about the logistics of the shoot.
“We’ll shoot some establishing shots out here in the dining room. Molly, Adele, we want you and Ellie walking around, talking to customers as though nothing is out of the ordinary. Then we’ll go out front and do an intro shot of the three of you.”
“After that we’ll film Reggie talking to some of the customers, let them tell us about their favorite dishes, that sort of thing.”
Molly nodded, familiar with the format of the show.
“Then we’ll head into the kitchen to film Brady at work before we do the step by step. Speaking of, do you have the recipe notes and the other materials we talked about?”
Molly nodded and went to retrieve the folder containing the written recipe for the almond crusted trout she and Brady were going to prepare later, along with pictures of her grandmother and of the restaurant from when it first opened.
When she got back to the dining room, she saw that Natalie had pulled out a makeup bag and was dabbing Reggie’s face with a makeup sponge. Next came a sweep of blush on the apples of her cheeks and then a brush of shimmering powder along the cheekbones.
“We’re ready to go whenever you are,” Carrie said, and indicated Bryan and Paul, who were ready with their cameras mounted on shoulder packs on opposite sides of the dining room.
“Hold on,” Natalie called as Molly, Ellie, and Adele started into the throng. She waved them over. “Want to make sure nobody’s shiny,” she said, smiling as she gave Molly’s face a quick dusting, and did the same to her mother and sister.
“Just act natural,” Carrie said as they made their way around the tables.
Easy for her to say, Molly thought, hoping her smile didn’t look as pasted on as it felt. But after a few minutes talking to so many familiar faces, marveling at how cool all of this was, she felt herself start to relax.
After about half an hour, they went outside for the intro shot. Then Reggie took the floor, and Molly retreated back to the kitchen to see if Brady needed any help.
Under his direction, she plated up a barbecue brisket sandwich with a side of onion rings, then handled an order for the beet salad with goat cheese and micro greens.
“Any more word from your sister?” she asked.
“No, thank God. And I can tell Jordan’s worried about it.”
She ran a comforting hand along his arm. “I’m sorry you have to go through this.”
“Thanks, babe.” He leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.
The kitchen door swung open and Molly tried to put some distance between them without looking too obvious as Reggie, her mother, Carrie, and Bryan the camera guy filed into the room.
“That looks fantastic,” Reggie said as she sidled up to the stove and peered into the pot of bison meat chili Brady was stirring.
“It’s one of the house favorites,” Adele said proudly. “My mom’s original recipe.”
“With a few adjustments,” Brady said with a grin and gave the chili a stir.
The movement made his shirt sleeve slide up, exposing the tattoo on his bicep.
“You’re a Ranger,” Reggie exclaimed.
Brady cocked a dark eyebrow. “You know your military ink.”
She shrugged. “My husband was a Ranger before he went into spec ops. Anyway, they didn’t have that in the notes—we should highlight that.”
“Your husband still active?”
Reggie shook her head. “He’s in personal security, which is actually how I met him. I hired him to be my bodyguard. Like something out of a romance novel.” She grinned.
“That’s right, you had a stalker,” Adele blurted out.
Molly remembered now, the story of Reggie being attacked in her apartment in San Francisco nearly a decade ago.
“Uh, sorry. I don’t suppose that’s something you like to talk about.” Ellie grimaced, and gave her mom a look.
“It was a long time ago, and I got a husband and two little maniacs out of it.” Reggie pulled her phone out and showed them a picture of a handsome, square-jawed man grinning with a pair of dark-haired little boys on his lap.
“That’s Michael, he’s seven, and Alex, my baby, is four.”
They all remarked at how cute the boys were as Carrie equipped Brady with a microphone pack.
“How long have you two been together?”
It took Molly a second to realize Reggie was talking about her and Brady. She froze, her stare locking with Brady’s. He cocked an eyebrow, waiting for her direction on how to proceed.
Heat crept up from her neckline. Beads of sweat bloomed on her forehead and she wished to hell she’d worn something lighter than merino wool. “Uh, we’re, uh, we’re not—”
“Oh, who do you think you’re fooling?” Adele said in an exasperated tone. “You think we don’t see you making moony eyes at each other and sneaking back to the office for ‘meetings’?” She raised her hands in air quotes.
“And there’s also the fact that when I went to drop off that sweater I borrowed the other night, Brady’s truck was parked outside your house,” Ellie said with a knowing smirk.
Molly stood there wishing the floor would open up and swallow her.
“Guess we weren’t as discreet as we thought,” Brady said, grinning, clearly unfazed. “Don’t know how we thought we could keep it a secret from these two, seeing as Jordan figured it out after only two days.”
“Well, if we’re finished discussing the state of my love life, perhaps we should get on with it,” Molly said tightly.
“Don’t be pissy,” Ellie said and gave her a quick squeeze. “We’re happy for you.”
“We sure are,” Adele said, and pulled her in for hug. “You could do a lot worse than Brady, especially after how that jerk treated you—”
“We don’t need to go into that right now,” Molly cut her off, but suffered the knowing grins of her mother and sister. Brady’s looked downright triumphant as he slung a possessive arm around her shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze when she would have sidled away.
“Sorry to let the cat out of the bag,” Reggie said sheepishly.
Molly let out a rueful laugh. “Don’t worry about it. Apparently it wasn’t much of a secret.”
Though this wasn’t exactly how she’d planned to reveal her relationship with her family, Molly had to admit she felt a sense of relief having it all out in the open.
It made it feel all that much more real.
The cameraman shot several minutes of Brady cooking and filling orders with the assistance of the Tanner women, which would later be interspersed with the dining room footage before the show aired.
Then it was time for Reggie to interview Brady while he prepared the dish they’d agreed to showcase.
“So these are all fresh, local ingredients,” Reggie prompted.
“Yep, this guy comes from an organic farm about thirty miles away,” he said as he expertly filleted a rainbow trout.
“So now you’re dredging it in a mixture of panko and crushed almonds,” Reggie narrated.
“I’ve also got some thyme and salt and pepper in there. We’ll serve it with some sautéed Swiss chard.
“Which are also local,” Reggie said with a smile.
“Right. Obviously the Montana growing season is shorter, but we try to get as much of our produce as we can from local farmers.”
As Brady put the trout in a pan and they continued their patter, Molly marveled at how natural Brady seemed, how he seemed to instinctively move so the camera could get the best angle on him and the food.
“You’ve had an interesting career path. It’s not often an Army Ranger goes on to become a chef,” Reggie continued.
“I cooked a lot as kid. It started as a necessity, but then I started to like it. And when I was in the army, any time I had a chance to eat something other than field rations or mess hall food was like a gift. After I got out I worked as a private military contractor for a couple years before I realized I wanted to do make this my career.”
Molly frowned as he revealed this new bit of information from his past.
“And you’re self-taught?”
“I had one year of culinary school,” he said and he slid the trout from the pan onto the bed of greens and finished it with a brown butter lemon sauce. “But I mostly learned through trial and error.”
Reggie held the plate up to the camera. “Shall we have a taste?”
She and Brady each took a bite. Reggie closed her eyes, a blissful expression on her face. “The crunch of that crust, paired with the delicacy of the fish, and how can you go wrong with brown butter sauce? And from a self-taught cook! I’m impressed.”
Brady shrugged, and Molly bit back a grin at the dark color slashing across his cheekbones. “Anyone can learn to cook,” he said, looking uncomfortable for the first time since the shoot began.
“Tell that to my husband,” Reggie laughed. “I’ve been trying to teach him for years and he can still barely boil water. Just kidding.” She grinned at the camera. “You know I love you, honey!”
She turned back to Brady, but whatever she was going to say was interrupted by the sound of someone shouting, followed by a loud crash coming from the dining room.
Molly exchanged a wary look with her mother and sister and headed for the kitchen door. Before she could reach it, the door flung open so hard it bounced off the wall.
“I don’t give a fuck if he’s busy, I want to talk to that asshole right fucking now,” a tall, thin woman with dark, scraggly hair shouted as she charged into the kitchen.
Jordan was with her, hanging onto her arm, trying to drag her away. “Mom, no, you can’t go in there,” he said, planting his feet, trying to stop her progress.
Despite her thin—make that emaciated—frame, Connie McManus was freakishly strong. She charged across the kitchen dragging her taller, heavier son in her wake.
###
Brady felt his stomach sink to his feet as he saw his sister’s face, twisted with fury. “Connie, what the hell are you doing here?”
“I’m here for to take Jordan home with me, where he belongs!” Her once pretty face was ravaged by years of drug use, the pale, pockmarked skin pulled tight over the bones of her skull. Her stained teeth were clenched tight, and from the way her sunken blue eyes darted around the room he knew she was high.
“Connie, we’re not going to discuss this now—”
“I don’t want to go with you!” Jordan shouted. “I told you on the phone I’m staying with Uncle Brady.”
Connie turned on him like a hissing snake and her sharp slap echoed across the kitchen before he could stop her. “You’ll go wherever I tell you to go, you ungrateful little shit.”
Then as though she had just realized she had an audience, her face became a mask of contrition. “I’m sorry, baby,” she said, holding her bony arms out to Jordan, who cringed against the wall. “I just miss you so much and it hurts my feelings when you say things like that.”
“He’s not going with you,” Molly said, and positioned herself in front of Jordan.
“What the fuck business is it of yours?” Connie yelled and launched herself at Molly, shoving her shoulders so hard Molly staggered back and would have fallen if Jordan hadn’t caught her.
Brady sprang forward and caught Connie around the waist. “Knock it off, Connie!” He yanked her back as Molly stared wide eyed, hand to her chest as though she was unable to believe someone had actually physically attacked her.