Maybe they would only watch the chef. She’d like that.
She rolled out of bed and went to the kitchen for coffee. While there, she considered brushing up on her skills. She could start with a simple breakfast. As she stared at Junie’s intimidating array of pans and utensils, she laughed at the irony.
Here she was, a woman who had fearlessly flung herself out of planes, terrified of a few eggs and a frying pan.
She reached into the refrigerator, figuring she might as well stretch all her limits.
“Maileah, what are you doing?”
She whirled around at Junie’s voice, dropping an egg as she did. “Practicing.”
Junie stared at the egg pooling on the floor. “I don’t have time to clean up after you.”
“I’ve got this.” Maileah quickly cleaned up the runny egg. “About the other day, we need to talk.”
Her sister looked uncomfortable. “You said plenty.”
“And I was wrong about most of it. That was my stress talking, and I’m sorry.”
“I am, too.” Junie hugged her arms around her torso. “I’m meeting Knox for a run on the beach.”
Maileah didn’t want to force her. “Can we talk later?”
Before leaving the kitchen, Junie nodded, and Maileah felt a measure of relief. They could start fresh.
While the eggs sizzled, Maileah wondered what Sailor and his friends were up to. Probably out on the water already, she thought wistfully. She pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on not burning her breakfast.
One step at a time, she reminded herself. Cooking class first, catamarans some other day.
The smell of slightly overcooked eggs filled the kitchen, but Maileah grinned triumphantly. It might not be gourmet, but it was a step in the right direction. Sort of like her life.
8
Maileah stood at the entry to the Majestic Hotel’s new demonstration kitchen and cooking school, taking in the vintage beach vibe and breathtaking ocean views. The renovation had transformed the space into a culinary paradise, with ten stations set up on two large islands. Each one featured a recipe, measured ingredients, and kitchen tools.
Todd appeared beside her, touching her elbow. “This place is incredible. Ready to channel your inner chef?”
Maileah laughed to hide her nervousness. More like my inner kitchen disaster,she thought. “Looks fascinating. Do you enjoy cooking?”
“I started on the grill and moved on from there,” he replied. “I like to learn more from cooking classes and demonstrations.”
Chef Gianna, a vibrant woman with a slight Italian accent, clapped her hands for attention. “Welcome, everyone. Today, we’re going to have a magnificent feast.”
The chef gestured to a framed menu. “We will begin with a classic retro dish, Oysters Rockefeller, as an appetizer. Then,we will move on to crostini bread, cold gazpacho, and a bay shrimp salad with fresh peaches.”
“That all sounds delicious,” Maileah said. “The perfect lunch with a view.”
A wave of laughter rippled across the room, and Maileah wondered what everyone found so humorous.
“We’re only getting started,” Chef Gianna said. “Next, we will prepare farfalle with a salmon vodka sauce and roasted brussels sprouts. For dessert, plan to enjoy homemade ice cream with fresh berry sauce. And we’ll quench our thirst with Italian sodas with garnishes.”
Todd put his arm around Maileah. “Now that’s a hearty lunch. Isn’t this exciting?”
She nodded gamely. “Sure is.”
Murmurs of excited approval swept across the small gathering of other couples. Maileah supposed this is what many of them did on Saturdays.
She sneaked a wistful gaze toward the beach through the expansive windows.
