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Jan sliced a healthy heaping of the potato pie for Mr. Dalton and brought it over to his table. The man rubbed his hands together and licked his lips before digging in. Watching him devour her food, Jan warmed.
It did matter to her that her customers were reluctant to take a risk. But at the end of the day, all that mattered was that her food sold. She just wished she could sell more of it.
“You’ll be headed back over to the king’s land soon with Ms. Pickett, won’t you?” Mr. Fitz asked as she came back around the counter.
Jan nodded that she was. And she was looking forward to it. The people of Cordoba were much more open to fusion foods. She knew a certain prince who would certainly appreciate a Hot peppered chocolate pie.
“You’ll be coming back though, right, Jan?” piped up Mr. Dalton. “You won’t leave us for that fancy place?”
There was a part of her that wished she could. Jan was far from a restless soul. She craved stability and consistency, but only in her routines, not in her recipes. She’d long dreamed of traveling the world but had only left the country that one time a month ago.
She wasn’t the type of girl that went on the adventure. She was the type of girl who read about it but not in a storybook or the newspaper. Jan read about other cultures and other worlds in cookbooks. She experienced those places in the fruits, sweet meats, and exotic spices from the safety and serenity of her kitchen.
She might be a tall, thin, plain girl. Such a plain Jane that even the E wouldn’t stick to her name. But inside the kitchen with a mixing spoon in her hands, she could be anyone and anywhere she wanted to be.
There had been that one time that she’d been presented with a golden ticket to be that girl outside of her kitchen. Prince Alex had asked her to partner with him in a restaurant venture. He hadn’t been serious. Alex had the attention span of a gnat and the commitment of a rabbit.
Even if he had been serious, Jan couldn’t up and leave her responsibilities here. Unlike the Prince who was beholden to no one, Jan was trapped. At least she’d lucked out and gotten trapped in business instead of in marriage with her partner.
She’d purchased this pie shop with her former fiancé a few months before their ill-fated wedding. In lieu of a honeymoon, they’d put a down payment on the business. Unfortunately, on the day of the wedding, he’d jilted her for his high school sweetheart.
Not only had her ex gotten married on their wedding day, at the ceremony their families had planned, and her father had paid for, but they’d also gone on an extravagant honeymoon in the Caribbean while Jan had been left to open up the pie shop the following Monday morning.
No, Jan just couldn’t form another partnership with a man who didn’t have both feet in the venture. Alex had likely forgotten about the rash proposal he’d whispered to her in an airport terminal as she watched her best friend get engaged.
Maybe in a couple of years, she’d have earned enough to buy her ex out of the business? Maybe when his ties were no longer around her, she could travel and taste the world’s foods? Maybe she could open up another restaurant in a place where people were open to trying new things?
But that was a dream for another day.
The doorbell dinged, and the lunch rush began in earnest. With one last look at her fusion special, Jan pulled another shepherd’s pie out of the warmer and began slicing into it.
Chapter Three
Alex gripped the sharp object in his hands. He was surprised the shears weren’t blunt. It was a wonder the powers that be trusted him, someone they constantly tried to manage and script, with the weapon. Didn’t they all expect him to run?
Alex may run off to the corners of the world for days, weeks, and maybe one whole month, at a time. He might often find himself in compromising positions with some of the world’s most beautiful and desirable women. But when he was needed, he didn’t shirk his duties.
Luckily, he was entrusted with very few duties. Ribbon cutting was one of the few. It was a hard job to mess up.
He aimed the shears, tugged the two holds apart, and snipped.
The red ribbons fell away, and applause rose up as though he were a child who’d just performed an elementary feat.
Alex looked up and put on his best, charming grin as cameras flashed and applause rose around him. Inside, he wished he could curse each of the people politely applauding him for a job well done. He wished he could show them what he could actually do with a sharp edge. He wanted to open his mouth and prove that he had something to say.
But he knew it was futile. They’d all already written the story of him. No one was interested in the truth.
“Over here, Prince Alex.”
Alex grimaced at the sound of that familiar voice. He turned to find Lila Drake of the Royal Times newspaper. Esme called her the nemesis with the reports Lila had put out about Esme harvesting dragon eggs in the dungeons.
The story was preposterous, but tabloids didn’t care about fact checking. Even though there was a kernel of truth after Esme took young noble youths on a dragon hunt a few weeks ago. It had all been fun until a stone dragon’s head had rolled. The public ate the articles that followed up and had begun calling Esme the Dragon Slayer, and Alex’s favorite, the Mother of Dragons.
“Prince Alex, what of the rumors of you and a certain French model spending time at a spa in Nairobi?”
“There’s nothing to tell,” said Alex.
“But there are pictures.” Lila smiled as though she had him cornered. “Ms. Bissett was seen leaving the same hotel you were staying at very early in the morning.”
