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“Oh, delicious. You made this?”
“Our sous chef did, but the recipes are mine,” she replied woodenly. The whole time they spoke, all Ariel could think was how this woman owed Miles an explanation for why in the world she had just burst back into his world without so much as a warning call.
“Well, it is divine.”
“Can I get you anything else?” Ariel asked, and then noticed Emily’s empty wine glass. She snatched it from the tabletop. “Was this red? I’ll get you a refill.”
Without waiting for an answer, Ariel turned on her heel and marched toward the bar. She took a deep breath and tried to act natural—but she had never been good at pretending, and she had to keep pretending that she had no idea who this woman was.
As Ariel returned to Emily with her wine, she calmly surveyed the rest of the dining room. Everyone was in good spirits, and a few tables were even ordering desserts. She would need to jump back into the kitchen to help Darcy.
As Ariel turned from Emily’s table, she noticed Katie peeking into the dining room. Then, in a wink, her daughter disappeared. Back in the kitchen, Ariel found Katie ready to pounce. "What's going on?" Katie asked.
“Emily, the new guest who came when you and Connor were having your”—Ariel stopped short, remembering that Darcy was the subject of that fight, and that the young sous chef was standing in the room with them—"disagreement, remember her?”
Katie nodded.
“She’s Miles’s ex-wife."
Katie's eyes widened in surprise at Ariel's revelation. "Wow, that's...complicated," she said, clearly taken aback by the news.
Ariel nodded, relieved that she could finally share her worries with someone. "Tell me about it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned close to her daughter. "I don't know what to do. Miles didn't know anything about her planning to come back into his life, and now I feel like I'm caught in the middle of something I don't understand."
Katie placed a comforting hand on her mother's arm, her expression sympathetic. "I'm sorry, Mom. Why does it seem like this summer is starting out withso muchrelationship drama?"
Ariel laughed as she started closing the dinner prep station, and Darcy moved to the tickets that were starting to pile up on the ticket holder for desserts. “Well, you’re sixteen. I don’t know what the excuse is for me or Miles or Emily. We’re supposed to be less dramatic than teenagers.”
“Are you okay, though?” Katie asked.
Ariel warmed inside, grateful for her daughter's support. "Yes, I am. But you—you and Connor haven’t spoken a word to each other all night. Are you all right?”
Katie sighed, cut her eyes over to Darcy, and then leaned in as Ariel had earlier so as not to be overheard. “Not really. But let's finish up service, and then we'll talk, okay?"
Ariel nodded, and the two of them turned back to their work, determined to get through the rest of the night as smoothly as possible. Katie laid out chilled dessert plates while Darcy called the counts of each, and then Ariel plated them before Darcy swooped in with the garnish sauces.
Darcy and Ariel had created a selection of gourmet desserts that she hoped would leave customers raving. One of the standout dishes was a rich chocolate torte, made with high-quality dark chocolate and topped with a delicate layer of milk chocolate ganache. The torte was served warm, with a side of house-made vanilla ice cream and a drizzle of raspberry coulis. The combination of the decadent torte, the creamy ice cream, and the tart raspberry sauce made for a truly indulgent and satisfying end to a meal.
Another popular choice tonight—over half of the dessert orders—was the crème brûlée, the classic French dessert that Ariel had given her own twist. The custard was infused with lavender and Madagascar vanilla, giving it a fragrant and floral flavor, and it was topped with a perfectly caramelized layer of sugar. The dessert was served in a small ramekin, accompanied by a tiny spoon and a crisp butter cookie. The custard was velvety smooth and luscious, and the caramelized sugar added a satisfying crunch and sweetness. It reminded Ariel of her days at the Frogmore in Paris and she smiled, her worries melting away like so much warmed sugar.
For those looking for something lighter, the Seaside Café offered a refreshing fruit sorbet. The sorbet changed daily, depending on what fruits were in season and what was available. On this particular day, the sorbet was made with fresh, juicy strawberries, resulting in a vibrant pink color and a sweet-tart flavor. The sorbet was served in a chilled bowl, garnished with a few sliced strawberries and a sprig of mint. It was the perfect way for her guests to cleanse the palate and leave feeling refreshed and satisfied.
As they all moved through the kitchen, filling dessert orders, Ariel's mind still raced, trying to make sense of the complicated tangle of emotions and relationships that had suddenly become her life—but she felt a little calmer, a little more in control. Outside, Ariel noticed that the screeching of the construction machinery had stopped—another small stroke of luck.
The dining room slowly cleared out and the four-person waitstaff, who had helped for dinner service, worked alongside Ariel, Katie, and Connor—who was still sullen and silent—to get the tables cleared, cleaned, and reset. Just before the waitstaff left, Ariel presented them each with a catering-sized dish with enough of the house special salmon to feed a whole family, along with fat slices of chocolate torte to go.
Darcy had been a tremendous help tonight, but the day had been long, and her body was weary. While Ariel and the others had tackled the dining room, she had seen him work diligently, scrubbing the pots and pans clean, and a sense of gratitude had welled up within her.
Darcy lounged in the kitchen at the island, checking off a stock list and comparing what was depleted with the number of plates that had come out of the kitchen for dinner service. A cup of black coffee and a ramekin of crème brûlée sat beside him. Ariel came into the kitchen in time to see Katie and Connor slipping out the back door, and she raised an eyebrow.
“Where are they going?”
Darcy chuckled. “I don’t know. But I’ve never been glared at like that Connor kid glares at me. What did I ever do to him?”
Ariel grabbed a bowl of sorbet and dug in, sitting at the island across from Darcy. “You showed up in the same place as someone he is afraid to lose,” she said, pointing her spoon at him. “How dare you.”
Darcy grinned, his even, white teeth flashing. “Yeah? Connor has a case of the green-eyed monster? Huh. I’m a skinny, tattooed nomad who is ten years older than that kid and his lady love. He has nothing to worry about.”
Ariel looked at Darcy. “About that nomad thing—you’ll have to tell me the story behind all of that someday, you know.”
