Where the Light Glows
Table of Contents
Synopsis
Acknowledgments
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Epilogue
About the Author
Books Available from Bold Strokes Books
Where the Light Glows
Izzy Calabrese wants to make her restaurant a success. She has a passion for cooking and life in general. Romance is the furthest thing from her mind when she finds Mel Thomas crying after being abandoned by her husband…again. She tries to distance herself from Mel, but she keeps showing up.
Clients know Mel Thomas as the CEO of her own consulting firm. She’s smart, engaging, and successful. Anyone who knows her would never think she’s insecure, but she’s more fragile than anyone knows. Her marriage on shaky ground, she doesn’t know how, or if, it can be salvaged. All she’s ever wanted in a relationship is someone’s attention. She thinks she may have found the person who can give that to her. Never in her wildest dreams did she expect it to be Izzy.
Where the Light Glows
Brought to you by
eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com
eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.
Where the Light Glows
© 2017 By Dena Blake. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-62639-959-4
This Electronic book is published by
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, NY 12185
First Edition: May 2017
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editor: Shelley Thrasher
Production Design: Susan Ramundo
Cover Design By Sheri (graphicartist2020@hotmail.com)
Acknowledgments
Thanks to Len Barot and Sandy Lowe for bringing me into the BSB family and letting me fly. You’ve given me the most precious gift of all, validation.
To Shelley Thrasher, my editor extraordinaire, for cleaning up my sentence structure and making this book flow so eloquently.
To Sheri for a gorgeous cover and knowing exactly what I wanted even when I didn’t.
To the rest of the BSB crew for making the publishing process seamless.
To Robyn for reading all my manuscripts, correcting my grammar, and always reminding me to write the happily ever after.
To Kate for patiently waiting while I finish just one more line and giving me honest, practical feedback without shattering my ego.
To my kids, Wes and Haley, for just being there and always having faith in me. You’ll never know just how much your encouragement means.
To my family for loving me no matter what and for tirelessly cheering me on each step of the way.
To my parents who never had the opportunity to see this book, but whom I hope would be proud.
Last, but never least, thank you to all of you who will read this book and, hopefully, all my books to come. Without you, my passion would never be realized.
Dedication
For Kate, who makes the impossible seem anything but.
I love you.
Chapter One
Izzy jumped when Angie slammed through the kitchen door and dropped the dirty dishes into the sink.
“That bitch is here again with a table full of people.” Angie grabbed her hips and spun around. A vein pulsed in the middle of her forehead. “She’s pissed because her usual table is taken. They have a solution for that. It’s called res—er—vations,” Angie spouted in a no-brainer rhythm.
“Did you find her another table?”
“Of course I did. You think I want to have her standing there breathing down my neck for the next twenty minutes? It took two tries, but I finally found one the princess would accept.” She filled six water glasses and set them on a tray. “Not a thank you or a kiss my ass. Nothing.”
“Settle down before you go back out there, Ang. I don’t want any problems tonight.” Izzy’s hot-tempered little sister wasn’t very good at serving people. She also wasn’t good at holding her tongue when she thought she was right, which was all the time.
Izzy peeked out the door behind the bar and watched Angie deliver the glasses of water to the table. She smiled and took out her order pad. So far so good. Izzy glanced around the dining room. Almost every table was full. When she’d seen the reservation list for the night, Izzy had regretted giving Gio the night off. But he had what he called “a date with the girl of his dreams” tonight, and Izzy had given in and let him go. Her little brother had more than a few of those dates, but the excitement in his eyes always won her over. It had been a while since she’d had a date like that, and for now, she was glad she had the restaurant to occupy her time. She’d just finished plating another party’s order when Angie rushed back into the kitchen.
“I need a cup of minestrone, three Caesars, and two house with vinaigrette on the side.” Angie filled a metal bowl with romaine lettuce and freshly mixed Caesar dressing. After tossing the greens with the tongs, she plucked them out into individual bowls before taking the soup and salads back to the dining room.
Tony glanced over at Izzy. “She seems to have settled down.”
She stuck up two fingers and crossed them. Angie was already pissed because Izzy had called her in on her night off to help out the four wait staff already scheduled. Her sous chefs, Carlos and Miguel, were keeping up with the prep in the kitchen, and she and Tony were right on spot with the dishes going out.
The kitchen door slammed against the wall. So much for wishful thinking.
“Unbelievable!” Angie said, barreling back into the kitchen. “She wouldn’t take the plate from me. I had to squeeze between the chairs and put it down in front of her.”
“That’s what you’re supposed to do, Angie. We’ve talked about this before. Mrs. Thomas is a longtime customer. Take care of her.”
“I know, but she doesn’t have to be so smug about it. Sitting there, tapping her finger on the table.”
“Why don’t you let one of the other girls take the table?”
“If she didn’t tip so damn well, I would.”
A few minutes later, the door swung open and the woman was in Angie’s face. “This is the wrong salad. I said mixed green with NO onions.”
Izzy watched Angie’s jaw tighten. She slipped in between the two of them before Angie let loose on the customer. “I’ve got this.” She grabbed Angie’s shoulders and spun her around. “You go out b
ack for a minute.” Angie glared over her shoulder, jaw clenched, ready to spout something. Izzy pointed to the door and said, “Now!” She turned back around, took the salad from Mrs. Thomas, and set it on the counter. “I understand you’re upset about the salad. I’m sorry. She’s doing the best she can.”
Cool, shuttered eyes zoomed in on Izzy’s. “If that’s her best, she needs to find another career.”
“I’ll take care of it right now.” Out of my kitchen! Izzy took the woman by the elbow and guided her to the dining area.
She yanked her arm free from Izzy’s grip, spun around, and dug in with both heels like she was steeling herself for battle.
“I’ll have your salad out in just a minute,” Izzy added, waiting for the retort she knew was ready to spew out of the woman’s mouth.
Mrs. Thomas sucked in a deep breath as her frigid gaze held Izzy’s. “I’d like a new waitress,” she said, her voice low and even.
“Of course.” Izzy pinched her lips together and counted to ten in her head. “I’ll have that salad right out.”
Izzy watched Mel Thomas speed back to her table before she glanced around the dining room to see if any of her other customers had been disturbed. She hurried back to the kitchen, prepared a new salad, and sent it out with one of the other waitresses.
“Is it rude to toss a Xanax into someone’s mouth while they’re talking?” she said to her brother, Tony, who had taken over the cooking when Izzy left the stove to deal with the woman who had burst into the kitchen.
He let out a big belly laugh and Izzy grinned. She dropped her smile and headed out back to talk to Angie. “What the hell happened out there?”
“The woman acts like she’s my only table. She’s waved me down five times already. Plus she’s so picky. Everything has to be perfect for her.”
“She’s the customer, Angie. I’d like everything to be perfect for her or she may not come back.”
“Good riddance.” Angie swung her arm backhandedly.
“How many people are at that table, Ang?”
“Six.”
Izzy scrunched her face and glanced at the dark sky. “Okay, six times twenty, plus twenty more for appetizers and around sixty for wine. That’s about two hundred bucks.” She glared back at Angie. “You want me to take that out of your check?”
“Well, no.” Angie’s eyes widened, and Izzy knew she was getting her point across. How long she would remember it was yet to be seen.
“Then get your shit together and start being nice to the customers.”
“Fine.” Angie pulled her order pad from the pocket in her apron and tore off a page. “She wants the shrimp scampi. Remember light on the garlic or she’ll send it back.” She slapped it into Izzy’s hand.
“I remember.”
Izzy slid the last dish for the table of six under the warmer, and Angie started loading the dishes on her arm. “No, you don’t. I’ll take the order out.” Izzy took the plates from her.
Angie dropped the last plate she was holding onto the counter. “Whatever. Her husband has been looking me up and down all night anyway.”
Izzy had delivered all of the meals except for the one for the unhappy customer, who sat tucked in close to the wall. She slipped between the two tables and was just about to set the dish in front of her when, in a quick swift motion, the man behind her pushed back in his chair as the woman swung her hand up in conversation. Time froze for Izzy as she rocked backward and then forward, her movement sluggish as if in slow motion. She reached out but couldn’t stop. Her cranky customer enjoyed a delicious serving of shrimp scampi with angel-hair pasta served right into her lap. Light on the garlic, of course.
Izzy’s eyes bounced from Mrs. Thomas’s shocked expression to her lap and then back to her widened eyes. It seemed like the longest minute ever.
“Oh my God!” Her eyes narrowed and her voice erupted in a low, angry rumble. “I can’t believe you just dumped that on me!”
Shit! I can’t believe it either! “I am so sorry.” Izzy picked a handful of pasta from her lap and put it back on the plate. “Let me get you a towel.” She raced into the kitchen, the door smacking against the wall behind it. “I need towels. Now!” Tony threw her a couple. “Start another order of scampi.”
She rushed back out to the dining room with Angie on her tail. They got all of the pasta cleaned up, and Tony brought out another dinner for her. In the meantime, the women at the table had all gone to the bathroom, and Izzy’s unintentional target was much calmer when she returned. Who knew how long that would last. She seemed to be holding her tongue in front of her friends.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Izzy leaned against the counter in the kitchen and rubbed her forehead. “Comp the meal.”
“Everything?” Angie gave her a crazy look.
“Yes. The whole meal.”
*
“It was an accident, Mel. Let it go,” Jack said as he got out of the car.
“It was ridiculously embarrassing.” Mel continued to stare at the large oil spot in the middle of her Armani dress. “This is never going to come out.”
“I think everyone got a good laugh out of it.”
“Exactly.” She blew out a breath. “Not the impression I like to make in public.”
“Everyone doesn’t have to think you’re perfect, Mel.” Jack, always the gentleman, held the door for her as Mel entered their condo.
“I never said I was perfect.” She just didn’t like them to see her lose her composure. She had certainly done that tonight. She headed for the stairs and Jack moved to the bar. She stopped at the bottom step. “Are you coming up?”
He shook his head. “I have work to do.”
She took in a deep breath and proceeded up the stairs. She always asked, and he always gave her the same response.
The room was Mel’s sanctuary. It was decorated with two linen wingback chairs near the window and antique cherrywood dressers covering each wall. A king-sized, leather-padded sleigh bed centered the room with matching tables on each side.
Mel crossed the room to the bathroom, kicking off her shoes on the Oriental rug covering the wood floor. Glancing at herself in the mirror, she unzipped her ruined dress and let it drop to the floor. The loss of the dress didn’t really bother her; it was the embarrassment that hurt. And the look of disdain Jack had given her stung the most. She finished undressing and stepped into the shower. The steaming jets hit her from all sides.
She heard Jack come into the bathroom. The drawer rattled open and closed, and then he was gone again. Once in their marriage he would’ve come into the shower with her uninvited, but those days were long gone. He regularly slept in the guest room now, with the excuse of the constant news-monitoring he did during the night. Being married to an international news reporter was glamorous but had many drawbacks.
When had she become so driven by other people’s opinions? Mel had never aspired to keep up with the Newhouses and the Murdochs. After all, she had her own marketing and public-relations firm that had been successful for quite some time. Maybe if she’d succumbed to Jack’s requests for her to stay at home and be satisfied with what he provided, they would’ve been closer.
She turned the knob on the shower and sighed as she stepped out. He would have been happier, yet she could never have been fulfilled that way.
*
Izzy found herself at one of her usual haunts on a barstool sitting next to a beautiful brunette she’d met for the first time only an hour before. She filled her glass as well as the brunette’s with the last of the wine from the bottle of merlot she’d ordered.
“I’ll be right back,” Izzy said, motioning to the restroom. She glanced at the woman’s backside as she got up. The woman had an irritating voice similar to the sound made by rubbing your hand on a balloon, but her knockout body made up for it in spades.
“I’ll be waiting.”
When Izzy returned, the woman sipped her wine and gazed over her glass at her. She gazed back at her smoky
, dark eyes and knew immediately where this was going. “You want another glass of wine?”
“I think I’ve already had too much. Would you mind giving me a ride home?”
“Not at all. Just let me settle the tab.” She waved the bartender over and handed her a couple of twenties. “Keep the change, Terry.”
Terry gave her a wink. “Thanks. You two have a good night.”
“We will,” the brunette said over her shoulder as she took Izzy’s hand and led her out.
*
Izzy dropped her keys on the entry table and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before she went out on the deck. She flopped down into a chair and took in the welcome sight of the ocean. The night sky was clear. The moonlight shimmered across the water as the waves rolled up on the shore. She probably should’ve gone straight home after the restaurant closed tonight, but she was too keyed up. The pasta fiasco had sent her adrenaline skyrocketing, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to relax. The brunette had been a nice distraction. She took in a deep breath and smiled. The familiar face that popped into her mind when she’d peaked was certainly unexpected. As was her body’s heightened response to the image.
What was she going to do about her problem customer or, more still, her problem sister? Angie’s heart just wasn’t in it. The blood that ran through her veins was different than Izzy’s. Angie didn’t feel the pull of the restaurant like she did. It was clear Angie didn’t want to be there. Her mind was always a million miles away in cyberspace. No matter how many times she told her, Angie couldn’t seem to grasp the idea that the customers were the ones who paid her salary. For someone who spent the majority of her time in school or communicating with a laptop, that wasn’t surprising.
The thought of another talk with her made Izzy’s stomach turn. It would be another bitch session she didn’t want to have. The thought of letting her go made it even worse. But if she didn’t rein her in, she would lose a customer who spent a considerable amount of money in the restaurant on a regular basis. She didn’t know how to get her point across to Angie without making her feel threatened.