In Good Company: Chapter 9

“Good morning, Mr. Fred,” I call as I descend the stairs from my upstairs apartment to his souvenir shop.

Mr. Fred stands in front of a shelf full of different Hamptons-themed magnets. He turns to look at me with a wide smile. “Good morning, Lucy. You’re up early.”

“It’s my first day at a new job. I didn’t want to be late.” I take a deep breath, trying to ease my nerves. I feel like I barely slept last night because of how anxious I was to start with Cal today. I don’t regret accepting the job. I’m glad I did. It’s been a long time since I’ve been so excited about something that I couldn’t sleep, but with the excitement comes a lot of nerves.

What if he realizes he hates my cooking? Although it isn’t likely I’ll ever need him as a referral once I’m back home after this summer, it’d be nice to have just in case.

“Need a cup of coffee, dear?”

I jump, focusing back on Mr. Fred. He holds a magnet in his hand as he looks at me over the top of his thick wire glasses. I shake my head. “I’m going to grab some here in a bit. Sorry, didn’t mean to space out on you…what did you say?”

He patiently nods in understanding, not seeming to be annoyed at all by my distractedness. “I asked where the new job was.”

I push my shoulders back, faking confidence, although my stomach twists with anxiety. “Today is my first day as a private chef. I’m riddled with nerves, so instead of lying in bed worrying, I figured I’d get an early head start on my day.”

He gives me an affectionate smile. “Whoever you’re working for is lucky to have you.”

I let out a deep breath. “I hope so.” My conversation with Loretta a few days ago went surprisingly well after I told her I was offered a job with Cal. I thought she’d be upset that I couldn’t work at Pembroke anymore, but she wasn’t. She understood the offer was one I couldn’t deny. I realized Loretta was a little less uptight than I gave her credit for. Or maybe she has a soft spot for Cal. Most of my meeting with her was spent listening to her fawn over him.

“I’m going to try and be the first one at the farm stand this morning. I want to get the best produce for the meals I have planned today.”

Mr. Fred raises his bushy white eyebrows. “Make sure to tell Dolores hi for me.”

I laugh, fixing the strap of my bag on my shoulder. “Or you could tell Dolores hi yourself.” Mr. Fred has been a widow for a decade now. I’ve learned that in the last year, he’s developed a bit of a crush on Ms. Dolores, who runs my favorite farm stand and also lost her spouse a few years ago. Mr. Fred has only mustered up the courage to say a few words to her, but I’m trying to get him to ask her on a date. They seem good for each other, but Mr. Fred is being stubborn.

“I think I’ll let you tell her hello for me today.” He gives me a wink before returning to stocking the shelf.

I laugh, shaking my head at him as I walk toward the front door. His store doesn’t open for a few more hours, but once it does, he’ll be busy all day. “I snuck some meals in the store fridge last night,” I tell him, stopping at the door. “Make sure to take time to eat, even if today’s busy. Okay?”

Mr. Fred doesn’t look at me, but he rolls his eyes. A few weeks after I started renting the apartment above the shop, I started preparing meals for him. I couldn’t help it. Once I learned he was surviving off frozen meals, I knew I needed to step in. He’s been like a grandfather figure to me since I moved here. Plus, he charges me way less than he should for rent. Cooking for him is my way of showing my appreciation.

“You don’t have to feed me,” he grumbles.

“I know I don’t have to. I want to. Just don’t forget to eat them today!” I press my back to the glass door and slightly push it open before he can argue more about the food.

“You’re too good to me, Lucy!” he calls out as the door shuts behind me.

I laugh as I walk to my car. I’d prefer to ride my bike to the farm stand, but I haven’t gone to Cal’s house yet. I know his house isn’t far from my place or Dolores’s stand, but I don’t want to risk taking longer than needed to get to his house. After today, I plan on riding to work as often as I can. But today, I’m going to drive just to be safe. Besides, after I’m done getting items from the stand, I want to stop by his house and get situated in the kitchen before running back out and getting the rest of the groceries needed. Today, I’m only preparing lunch and dinner for Cal, giving me more time this morning to get ready.

The entire drive to the stand, I go over my recipes for the day in my head. I have a rough idea of what I want to make, but I also want to give myself the flexibility to change my mind if I see something at the farm stand that sparks an idea. Cal didn’t give me much to go off of except explicitly stating he despises capers.

It’ll either be amazing that he didn’t give me any guidance on his favorite foods or what he’s craving, or it’ll be tragic. I guess we’ll find out.

Dolores is busy neatly arranging cartons of strawberries when I pull up to the stand. I put the car in park, giving her a warm smile as I grab my mesh produce bags from my passenger seat and open my door. Warmth from the sun heats my cheeks as I walk up to the stand. It’s a beautiful morning with not a single cloud in the sky. The weather’s so beautiful here I try to get outside as much as I can. I’m excited to make stopping by my favorite farm stand a daily routine.

“Lucy,” Dolores croons, giving me the biggest smile. “You’re here early this morning.”

“I wanted to be one of your first customers this morning so I could get the first pick.” My eyes roam over the vibrant colors of the fruits and vegetables. There are many local farm stands here, but Dolores’s is my favorite. The quality is unmatched. Plus, she’s sweet as can be. She reminds me of my own grandmother, who passed years ago.

Dolores puts her hands on her hips as she watches me with a kind smile. “You’re my very first. What are you looking for today?” She tucks her hands into her apron pocket as she waits for me to answer.

I glance at my options, immediately overwhelmed in the best way. Everything looks amazing. Different ideas for meals come rushing to my head as I mull over my choices. “Well, for starters, I accepted a private chef position. I’ll be preparing meals five days a week.”

She gasps, her hands flying to her mouth in excitement. “Oh, Lucy, I’m so happy for you. That’s perfect.”

I let out a nervous breath. “I’m really excited. Just don’t want to mess it up.”

Dolores scoffs and swats at the air. “You won’t. Who are you working for?”

She follows me as I peruse the assortment of fruits and veggies. I want to grab one of everything, but that’d be wasteful. Cal’s assistant gave me a credit card to use for food purchases, but I don’t want to overbuy. “Callahan Hastings,” I tell Dolores, picking up a carton of strawberries and blueberries.

“Cal? Really?” she asks, her voice full of disbelief.

I keep a hold of the fruit cartons as I narrow my eyes a little. “Yes…why do you sound so shocked?”

She shakes her head, plastering on a smile as she fixes a zucchini that’s out of line. “I just thought he already had a chef, is all. Ignore me. At this age, I can’t trust my memory half the time.”

I stare at her for a moment, wondering if something happened with Cal’s last chef. Dolores seems so confident that he already has someone. It makes me curious what might have happened. Had he been without a chef for a while before hiring me? Or was the loss of his last chef new?

I guess I could just ask Cal, but I don’t know if that’s something I have the right to know. I haven’t spoken to him since last week at the club when I finally accepted the offer, and he made no mention of another chef. Since then, I’ve only coordinated with his assistant about the job.

“Anything I have to leave with today?” I ask Dolores, changing the subject before I can think too hard about what happened with Cal’s last chef.

She nods her head in my direction. “You’ve got the berries. Excellent choice.” The wind rustles the ends of her white hair as she slowly makes her way to the other side of the stand. She picks up a bushel of asparagus. “We’ve been selling out of these by mid-morning.”

I nod eagerly, my mind already bustling with ideas about how I can shift the menu today to accommodate some of the fresh items from the farm stand. “I’ll take it.”

“How about I take these and set them by the cash register for you?” She nods to the cartons of fruit in my hands.

“That’d be perfect.” While she takes the berries and asparagus to the register, I continue to look around. There’s so much to choose from. I work through my meal ideas for the day in my head, trying to come to a final decision about what I want to prepare.

Dolores and I make small talk as I pick out a few more items and pay for the food.

“Thank you for helping me decide,” I tell her, carefully placing my haul in my bags. I’m eager to get to Cal’s house and get to work. “You’ll be seeing a lot more of me now. Hope you don’t mind.”

She smiles, the wrinkles of her face getting even deeper with the movement. “I hope I do. I can’t wait to hear all about your first day with Mr. Hastings.”

I give her a nervous smile. My stomach flip-flops at the reminder of it being my first day. “Wish me luck!”

She rolls her eyes and playfully swats at the air. “You don’t need luck.”

Oh, but I might.

I’m confident in my ability to prepare mouthwatering meals for Cal and his guests. What I’m not confident about is putting up with Cal. His witty remarks and need to have everything done his way are something I don’t know if I’m equipped to handle. I’m not normally one who likes to argue or toss out sassy comments, but there’s something about the interactions between us that makes me unable not to.

I walk to my car and carefully put my haul in the passenger seat. The drive is short from the farm stand to Cal’s house. I know my way around East Hampton fairly well, so the general directions I was given by Cal’s assistant get me to the correct street. From there, I pay close attention to the numbers on the mailboxes until I find the one I was given as Cal’s.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, taking in the pristine white gate. I’d been given a keypad entry code, but for some reason, I thought it was to get into the house, not to get onto the property.

Owning a house in East Hampton is expensive. Every house is beautiful and worth more than I could ever dream of, but Cal’s has to be one of the nicest on the street, and I haven’t even seen the entire house yet.

I bring my rental to a stop and roll down the window to punch in the key code. It takes a moment, but a loud beep rings out from the tiny box before the gates push open, revealing a neatly paved driveway and one of the most stunning homes I’ve ever seen.

“You’re joking,” I whisper, stepping on the gas before the gates close on me and my rental gets crushed because I’m too busy gaping at my new place of employment.

The house looks like it was pulled right out of a catalogue. It has gray siding and navy blue shutters that appear to be freshly painted. Even the double front doors are painted the same vibrant navy blue.

Every window on the first floor has a flower box attached to it. Inside sit beautiful arrangements of flowers that bring even more character to the stunning home. I pull my car off to the side, parking next to a large black SUV.

Grabbing my phone from the cup holder, I read over the email from Cal’s assistant that lays out all the details of the job. Apparently, the house has a chef’s kitchen, something I’m thrilled to see in person. Cooking for private events here in the Hamptons has given me the chance to work in drop-dead gorgeous kitchens, but just by looking at the outside of this house, I’m fairly confident this kitchen is going to be the best one I’ve worked in yet.

And it’s mine for the summer—kind of.

I’m busy memorizing the email from Cal’s assistant when the sound of a knock against my car window startles me.

“Fuck!” I scream, my hand immediately covering my mouth when my eyes meet Cal’s.

He smiles. “Well, good morning to you too, Lucy.”