Page 8 of Recipe for Love


  “ ‘Love’ is a word I don’t use easily,” Richard said, but his tone held a sadness Maddy couldn’t understand. “I didn’t want to say it until I knew you were the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”

  Maddy covered her eyes with her hands and took a deep breath. Her emotions were in a tangled mess. “I’m going to need a minute to absorb this.” Although she heard his words, she couldn’t ignore what she’d seen in his eyes. She looked up at him, confused. “If this is a proposal, why does it feel like a good-bye?”

  Richard didn’t deny it, and Maddy’s stomach lurched again. “You’re not going to like what I’m going to tell you, but please hear me out.”

  Maddy turned away. “I don’t want to hear whatever you’re leading up to. Listen, maybe I should spend the night in town. Maybe you’re upset that Gino ended your night at work early. I don’t know, but I can guarantee that you should rethink whatever you’re about to say.”

  Richard walked up behind her and laid a hand on her lower back, talking softly into her ear. “There you go, Maddy, running away from what you don’t want to see.”

  She spun on him angrily. “Hey, I’m not the one who just delivered a marriage proposal that sounded like a eulogy.”

  Richard held her eyes. “I didn’t ask you to marry me.”

  Maddy’s chest tightened painfully. “I can see this conversation isn’t taking a turn for better.”

  Richard took both of her arms in his hands and held her before him. “Do you love me, Maddy?”

  Angry tears filled Maddy’s eyes. “How can you ask that after all this time we’ve been together? Do you think I would be here if I didn’t?”

  His hands tightened on her arms. “I don’t want to lose you, but you can’t stay here with me anymore, Maddy. You need to go home to your family. It’s time.”

  Maddy’s knees buckled in shock beneath her. “What are you saying? I don’t understand.”

  He held her against his chest and tucked her beneath his chin. Maddy heard his heart thudding loudly in his chest as he said, “I want you with me because you love me and you don’t want to be anywhere else. I don’t want you to be here because you don’t want to be there. You need to go home, Maddy, and sort things out with your family.”

  Maddy tore free from his embrace. “Wait, let me get this straight, you love me so much that you’re telling me to leave?”

  He nodded sadly.

  “Will you come with me?” she demanded.

  “Non,” he said, his expression unreadable. “I would distract you from what you need to address—the reason you came here in the first place.”

  “I came here because I was sick and tired of the lies. I thought you understood that. But I don’t care about them anymore.”

  “You do. And they stop you . . .”

  “What is it that I haven’t done, Richard? I thought what we had was perfect. I get along with your family, your friends. I’m learning your damn language. Tell me, which part of this are you not happy with?”

  Richard tucked a wild hair behind Maddy’s ear. “I am happy. You’re not. And you won’t be as long as you hide here with me. Go home, Maddy. Face whatever drove you here. And then, if you still want to be here, come back to me.”

  “Wow, no wonder they say the French are smooth. You make breaking up with me sound like the screenplay for a B-rated chick flick. Let me give you the American version of what you’re saying. It’s not you; it’s me. I’m not ready for something as wonderful as you. Only in your speech, you’re ending it because I’m not ready for you.”

  “Maddy—”

  He reached for her and she smacked his hand away. “No, don’t touch me. You want me to leave. I’ll leave.”

  She raced toward the door and opened it. She was halfway down the stairs when Richard caught up to her, swinging her around by the arm. “We’re not done with this conversation.”

  Gino appeared beside them. Ever present. Ever protective. Maddy had never been so happy to see him. “Tell him to let go of my arm, Gino.”

  Gino stood directly beside them and said, “Richard, I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Richard didn’t let go. “I respect you, Gino, but this is between Madison and me.”

  Gino put his hand over Richard’s in warning. “I’m sorry, Richard.”

  Richard looked from Maddy to Gino’s hand and released her. “Maddy, hate me if you want, but I’m right, and I do love you. I hope someday you understand that.”

  Maddy rushed away from the two of them, stopping only when she reached the street. Gino was beside her in a heartbeat. He said, “My car is across the street.”

  In a state of shock, Maddy followed him silently. She couldn’t believe that Richard didn’t want to be with her. She was angry and ashamed of how easily she’d given him her heart. How could I have been so stupid? “Take me to the airport,” she told Gino.

  “Would you like to stop in town for anything?”

  Maddy looked back at Richard’s house and tears filled her eyes. “No, everything I care about is in there.” She wiped away a tear and swore. “Shit, Gino, I forgot my purse and my phone in there.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Gino said and strode toward the house. He returned a short time later with both.

  Not surprising, Maddy thought, why would Richard hang onto either when he wants me gone?

  Gino started the car and asked, “Where should I tell the pilot we’re going?”

  “I don’t care,” Maddy said, watching the French countryside pass in the window. “I officially don’t care about anything anymore.”

  Chapter Seven

  Of course, Gino took her to her parents’ home in New York. Her parents hugged her and kissed her until she pleaded reprieve, blaming jet lag and fatigue for why she wanted to go directly to her room. The truth was she was speaking and interacting on autopilot.

  She retreated to her suite of rooms and stayed there well into the next day. Her mother stopped by several times to ask her if she wanted to have breakfast together, go shopping, or simply talk. Maddy declined each time. She closed the heavy curtains in her room, turned off all the lights, and embraced the oblivion of sleep.

  There was only one word she could think of to describe how she felt inside: shattered.

  Her excuses bought her a day alone, but on her second day home her father came into her room, turned on all the lights, and sat on the edge of her bed.

  “Your mother is worried about you, Maddy,” he said with forced sternness.

  Maddy turned away from him, hugging her blankets to her. “I’m fine. I’m just exhausted.”

  He touched one of her curls lightly. “If you’re afraid your mother and I will find out you were living with that Frenchman while you were in Sablet, we already know. Gino is not the only one who watches out for you.”

  Maddy closed her eyes. “Thanks for trusting me, Dad.”

  Her father gave a grunt of displeasure. “I shouldn’t have to hire people to tell me what my daughter is up to. She shouldn’t be lying to me.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize our family was above lying now.”

  “You’re still angry with me about Stephan?”

  “Did Uncle Victor tell him the truth yet?”

  Her father remained silent.

  “I didn’t think so. So, yes, I’m still angry. I tried to put this out of my head while I was in Sablet, but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with it. You have no right to play with other people’s lives. Letting Stephan think Dominic Corisi stole Isola Santos when, in fact, Uncle Victor asked him to buy it is bad enough. But letting Stephan continue to believe that Nicole had anything to do with Victor losing his company? That’s too upsetting for me to live with. Do you understand why I am disgusted when I look at you now? All I can think is that the father I grew up admiring is a hypocrite who doesn’t protect his family at all.”

  Alessandro shifted on the bed beside her and sighed. “Maddy, what Stephan had with Nicole was a su
mmer flirtation. If I honestly thought it was more than that I would agree with you. And, I have spoken to Victor many times about how he should tell Stephan the truth about Isola Santos. It’s not my place to do more than that. Stephan is Victor’s son. I can’t come between them. Just as Victor would never tell me how to raise you, I cannot interfere with him and his son.”

  “We’re not children anymore, Dad.”

  “A parent doesn’t stop worrying or trying to guide his child just because she reaches a certain age. It was killing me to stay here rather than go to France and haul you home. It wasn’t the right place for you, but your mother and I wanted you to come to that decision on your own.”

  Maddy kept her face averted. “I’m not here because I want to be.”

  “Making the right choice is not easy, Maddy. You didn’t belong in France. Of course you’ll miss it for a time, but you’ll feel better soon.”

  Maddy sat up and spun, slapping her hands beside her on the bed. “This is not like the puppy I brought home that you wouldn’t let me keep.”

  Alessandro stood. “No, Richard was not a puppy. He was the first man you cared about. I understand the ways of the heart. I’m not so old that I can’t remember the sting of my first breakup. But it passes, Maddy. Don’t stay in bed all day making everyone worry about you. It’ll only make you feel worse.” He stood and started toward the door.

  Maddy called out to him. “Dad, I didn’t break up with Richard. He said he loved me, then he told me to leave.”

  Her father slowly turned back in her direction, holding the handle to her bedroom door in one hand.

  Maddy clasped her hands on her lap. “He said I had to sort out things out with my family before I could be with him. Do you think he said that because he never truly loved me and only wanted me to leave?”

  Alessandro frowned and shrugged one large shoulder. “I can’t speak for him.”

  “I’m so angry, Dad, but I don’t want to be. I don’t want to be angry with him. I don’t want to be angry with you or Uncle Victor. I want to forget I ever heard what happened between Stephan and Victor, but I can’t. So what do I do?”

  “Get up. Get showered and come downstairs.”

  Maddy let out a tearful laugh. “That’s it? That’s your advice?”

  He shrugged again. “Your life is not in this bedroom, Maddy. It’s downstairs with the people who love you. No one is perfect. No family is, either. It’s time for you to grow up and accept that.”

  “And Richard?”

  “You know how I feel about the French.” Alessandro closed the door behind him.

  ***

  A week later, Richard was at the restaurant kitchen during a busy dinner rush. He paused while making a sauce to check his phone. Seven days, two hours, and thirty-two minutes ago he had made what felt like the biggest mistake in his life.

  It wasn’t that he regretted what he’d said. Maddy needed to address her issues with her family. She’d told him enough about them that he knew she wasn’t in danger. He never would have sent her back if he’d thought for a second she would be. It brought him comfort to know Gino would give his life for Maddy.

  Hard to hate a man like that, even when he cuts a conversation short.

  Not that anything I might have said would have made it better.

  Idiot. I choose my words as indiscriminately as a dog chooses which ass to sniff.

  I should have shown her the ring.

  I should have gone back with her when she asked me to.

  Bertrand turned off the flame beneath the pan Richard was absently moving back and forth. “Hey, my lovesick friend, try to not to burn every dish, non? We still have some patrons.”

  Richard saw the blackened sauce smoking in the pan he held and swore. “This is unusable. Shit.”

  Bertrand called the saucier over and the plate Richard had been working on was whisked away. “No worries. Do not be offended, but I’ve been doubling your orders this week. The lamb that you made was dry enough to make the cats out back gag, but it never left the kitchen.”

  Richard shook his head in disgust. “I’ve lost the only woman I’ve loved and now I’ve lost my ability to cook.”

  With a pat on the back, Bertrand led Richard away from the busy part of the kitchen. “Oh, the pangs of love tested. You haven’t lost your gift, Richard. The problem is, you cook with your heart. And that sauce, it was dreamt up by a happy man, as was most of what is on the menu now. You have a choice to make, my friend. You can burn every recipe that reminds you of your little American, or you can take all that angst and create something new.”

  Richard looked down at the pastry ovens his business partner had led him to. “I can’t come up with a new recipe now. I can barely concentrate on what I already know how to do.”

  Bertrand gave him a knowing smile. “Try, Richard. You’re an artist. Make something so good that it will bring comfort to someone who feels as badly as you do. I challenge you, Richard, to grow from this.”

  “I did the right thing,” Richard said as he gathered a variety of ingredients. “She would never have been happy without her family.”

  “You know, those Americans, they think every story needs the same happy ending to be beautiful. What you did for her, Richard, was an unselfish act of love. So make me taste that. Make something so painfully delicious that I cry as I take the last bite because it is over and yet I am better for having tasted it.”

  A spark lit within Richard and he set out to do just that.

  Chapter Eight

  Thanksgiving snuck up on Maddy. She’d followed her father’s advice that day and had come down and faced her family, and time had flown by after that. In a family the size of hers, there was always a wedding to prepare for, a birth to celebrate, or someone who needed more cheering. There were members of her family dealing with sick children or cheating spouses, and they needed her. No, she hadn’t revealed secrets that weren’t hers to tell, but she’d found a way to be okay with them.

  She’d taken a job as Stephan’s secretary. Working closely with him allowed her to keep track of him, make him smile on days when he was sad, and guide him away from his own anger. They had grown close and although, she didn’t feel it made up for her uncle’s actions, it was good.

  She’d waited for Richard to call her. She’d planned out exactly how to tell him off when he did. But he never called. Eventually, the pain of that, too, became something she accepted and survived.

  In a blink of an eye, summer had become fall, and her family was once again gathered at her parents’ home. Table after table was put up throughout the house, the number gathered far exceeding what could be contained to one dining room, even though it could easily seat forty.

  Children raced through every room, sometimes stealing treats from the tables. Maddy tapped the hand of one she caught sipping from a wine glass. He’d almost started to cry, then ran off when his mother entered the room. This Andrade holiday was a loud, chaotic, and above all loving in a way that Maddy was familiar and comfortable with. She smiled across the table at Stephan. He’d almost wormed his way out of the day, claiming he had work to do, but Maddy had been there to remind him of the importance of family.

  Her Uncle Victor clinked his fork against the side of his glass, magically quieting even the youngest of the Andrades. “Thank you, Alessandro, for hosting Thanksgiving for all of us.”

  Alessandro raised his glass to his brother. Although it was his home, Victor was the older brother, and in their family was something to be honored.

  Victor continued. “Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays because it reminds us to stop and remember all that we are grateful for. Many look at us and envy our possessions, but our true legacy is all of you.”

  A baby let out a deafening cry in his mother’s arms. She bounced him, trying to comfort him.

  Victor waved a hand at the young child. “It’s him, and each and every one of us gathered here today. So turn to the person next to you and tell them you ar
e grateful for them. It’s the simplest thing to do, but something we often forget.”

  All around the dining room and in the rooms attached, people stood and hugged. Maddy’s eyes filled as she watched. How did I ever think I could live without this?

  Her mother tapped her on the shoulder and pulled her in for a tight hug. “You will never know how grateful I am for you, Maddy, and happy you came back home to us.”

  “I’m grateful for you, too, Mom. And everyone else.”

  As Maddy said it, she realized something she couldn’t believe she hadn’t before. Richard sent me home because he knew how much I love my family. He knew I needed to be here.

  “Are you okay, Maddy?” her mother asked.

  “I am,” Maddy answered. I’m just finally waking up. “I have to go, Mom. I’ll be right back, but I need to go to my room for a minute.”

  “Okay, but we’re about serve the meal. Be quick.”

  “I will,” Maddy promised and bolted for the privacy of her room. Once inside, she took out her laptop and poured out her thoughts in an email to Richard.

  Dear Richard,

  When we first met you told me that you were years beyond me when it came to experience. I thought you were wrong. I didn’t think I had any more growing up to do.

  I was so angry with you when you asked me to leave. I thought I was happy in Sablet. But, I was embracing denial with abandon. I couldn’t see that at the time. When you told me to return to my family to mend the rift between us, all I heard was that you didn’t love me. I’m sorry I couldn’t see past my own insecurities—my own selfish definition of love.

  I know you don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, but it’s a time when we Americans stop and think about everything that we’re grateful for. I am spending the day with my parents and more family than I could list here. I wouldn’t be here with them if you hadn’t pushed me to return.