In Over Her Head: An Anchor Island Novel by Terri Osburn (reading eggs books .TXT) 📗

“Grandma, come and tell me what you think,” Mia called out to the new arrivals. She crossed the room and slipped a hand beneath the older woman’s arm to help her along. “I just finished.”

“Let me make sure you didn’t miss anything,” the woman said, leaning heavily on the cane as they crossed the room.

While the grandmother perused the artwork, her escort cut a glance Lauren’s way. She lifted a brow in greeting. Not until several days into the mural work did Lauren learn that the cook was Mia’s older brother. She’d mentioned earlier that they were celebrating Nick’s birthday later in the day. Though he didn’t look like a man about to celebrate anything.

With dark brows locked over whiskey-brown eyes, he ran a hand through his black hair and scowled as his gaze returned to his family members. With nothing else to do, Lauren observed Nick unnoticed. Any woman with a pulse would say he was attractive, but something else about him caught her attention.

Nick Stamatis possessed every inch he occupied. And he occupied a lot. The faded jeans did wonders for his ass, or maybe the other way around, and the well-worn jacket hung off wide shoulders. She imagined he commanded respect in the kitchen and wondered not for the first time if that was a skill one could learn or if they had to be born with it.

She yearned for that kind of power. The kind that no one could question.

Her assessment was cut short when Nick walked her way.

“I hear you’re revamping this place.”

“I am,” she replied as he drew closer.

His hands slid into the pockets of his jacket as his eyes cut to the brightly lit space behind her. “That kitchen was pretty old. Is Will giving you a new one?”

“The renovation includes the kitchen, yeah. Most of the new equipment is in place, but the sixty-inch range is on back order so that’s holding things up.” If the range had been on time, they might have been able to open earlier than planned. Now they’d be lucky to make the month-end relaunch date.

“Then you aren’t reopening May first?”

A detail of their plan she hadn’t thought was out yet in case a delay was needed. That was one of the cons about moving to such a small community—everyone knew everyone else’s business whether you wanted them to or not.

“That’s still more than three weeks away so we shouldn’t have any problem hitting the date,” she lied.

There were several items that had yet to arrive. Anchor Island wasn’t just a small community. It was a barrier island only accessible via ferry, and that apparently slowed down deliveries. Lauren had never been a patient person so this entire process felt like a test.

“Grandma, this is the friend I was telling you about.” Mia smiled as Lauren looked her way. She wouldn’t say they were friends, but correcting the statement seemed rude. “Lauren Riley, this is Nota Stamatis, our grandmother.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Stamatis.”

The older woman leaned both hands on the top of her cane. “Likewise, my dear, but Mrs. Stamatis was my mother-in-law. Dreadful woman. Call me Nota.” Tapping Mia with her elbow, she added, “You said she was pretty, and you were right.”

“When did I say that?” Mia asked, her cheeks turning pink.

“You were on the phone with someone. I overheard.”

“That’s called eavesdropping,” Nick scolded.

Dark eyes that appeared to run in the family sparkled with mischief. “I was in the next room. What was I supposed to do? Not listen?”

“Yes,” the siblings said in unison.

The Stamatis matriarch looked unaffected. “Nick is a cook, too,” she said to Lauren. “And single.”

The man in question rolled his eyes as his sister said, “We should go.”

“He isn’t just any cook,” Nota continued. “He’s won Best of the Fest two years in a row.”

Now they had her attention.

“Best of the Fest?” Lauren repeated. “What is that?”

“Anchor Island has an annual food festival in May,” Mia explained. “Several prizes are awarded, including the food voted Best of the Fest from all participating restaurants.”

Why hadn’t Will mentioned this? “Is that limited to island eateries?”

“Restaurants up and down the coast participate,” Nick answered. “From Corolla on down. The winner gets a feature in Food & Fare magazine.”

This would be the perfect way to introduce herself as one of the best chefs in the area, and to bring attention to the restaurant. Winning recipes started racing through her mind. “Then Pilar's will participate as well.”

“Not an option,” Nick said.

The hell it wasn’t. “Why not?”

“Because Will is on the festival committee,” Mia explained. “It’s considered a conflict of interest.”

That was easily fixed. “Then she’ll get off the committee.”

Three sets of eyes blinked as if Lauren had suggested her boss be killed.

“Will created the festival,” Nota said. “She would never step away. This event is her baby.”

No way in hell would Lauren sit on the sidelines while every restaurant on the coast competed for best food. Yes, her menu alone would bring in customers—eventually. Winning this prize and getting national coverage would bring them now. She needed this in order to prove that she belonged in the kitchen, contrary to what some in her past would say.

“We’ll see about that,” Lauren said.

An awkward silence fell over the foursome until Mia said, “Well, we have a birthday to celebrate. Grandma, give me two minutes to clean up and I’ll be ready to go.”

“Take your time, dear.”

“Happy birthday,” Lauren said to Nick. She’d spent her last four birthdays alone. It must have been nice to have even this small family unit with whom to celebrate.

“Thanks.” Changing the subject, he said, “When are you bringing the staff back?”

Lauren had yet to pick her team. “We’ll be holding interviews next week.”

His weight shifted as he rose to his full height and faced her head-on. Lauren was five ten, but Nick had her by at least four inches, and his shoulders suddenly blocked the entire entrance.

“What’s wrong with the staff you have?”

“I just told you I don’t