“For now, girlfriend. We’re making French toast.”
A wave of relief replaced the pulse of Zach-induced lust heat that rushed over her. She wasn’t ready to return to a professional kitchen, not by a long shot, but cooking with Miss Leona gave her more than a comforting distraction from the bizarre reality of her life. It gave her a purpose, a challenge she was eager to face with a delicious payoff.
“I’m ready,” Evie said, confidence backing her voice.
“Great. Go get yourself a few eggs.”
* * *
“Are chickens always this vicious?” Evie asked, eyeing the small nick on her hand as she walked back into the chicken coop. She’d done her best to sweet-talk the fat feathered birds as she entered their coop, but the one with the white and gray feathers had taken real offense at her attempt to gather eggs. Evie caught a beak on the back of her hand.
“Bertie,” Mrs. Leona said, making a little tsking noise as she shook her head. “Sorry, I should have warned you. She can be a little moody every now and then. How’s your hand?”
Evie stopped and let Miss Leona gently examine the scratch.
“Didn’t break the skin. That’s good,” she said.
“I think my ego is more bruised than anything. She scared me,” Evie said with a trembling laugh.
“Next time, I’ll show how to sweet-talk little Bertie. Come wash your hands and let’s get started.”
Miss Leona was more hands-off with this lesson. Taking a seat at the island, she directed Evie as she slowly and carefully moved around the kitchen gathering her ingredients. A thick loaf of brioche, milk, vanilla extract, which Evie was also very fond of, but the striking scent still didn’t match the warm kiss and hug she felt from the nutmeg when she first untwisted the lid on its small glass shaker.
She unscrewed the lid and brought the brown powder to her nose. Her eyes fluttered shut as the aroma hit her senses. “Oh, I like that.”
“You’ll get to know your seasoning and your spices again. Every chef needs their nutmeg. Let’s get your dredge going.” Miss Leona handed her a plate with raised edges, then nodded toward the milk.
“May I ask a silly question?” Evie asked as she started cracking her eggs. So much had happened in the last few days, but now that she was back in Miss Leona’s company, she couldn’t help but think of her films.
“No such thing, my dear. Go right ahead.”
“When we were watchingGlory in the Night—never mind.” She suddenly felt so silly. There was no way she could talk to Miss Leona about this. She would sound so immature and maybe a little rude. She wasn’t the person to help her fill in the cracks of insecurity she was having in her prospective love life.
“Come out with it, girl. This right here, this is part of having your own kitchen. Cooking and talking shit. Out with it.”
Laughter sputtered out of Evie.
“Okay. Well.” Evie went on, choosing her words wisely. She’d really enjoyedSeeds in the Sunshine, but she’d lovedGlory in the Night. She’d kept her initial reaction to the steamy romance to herself, but now she had questions. “You and the man who played John Daly had such chemistry. How—how did you pull that off? I mean I know you were acting, but I’m just trying to picture what it’s like to pretend.”
“Baby girl, you don’t know just how much acting I did. Wayne Westwood, the man who played John Daly? Horrible, horrible man.”
“Really?”
“Oh yes. He treated me like complete dirt during that whole production. I won’t repeat some of the things he said, but he had even more choice words for me after I won the Oscar and he wasn’t even nominated.”
“How did you get through it?” Evie asked.
“I met my Gerald on that shoot. He was the animal wrangler. I’d never ridden a horse before and he helped me learn during preproduction. By the time principal photography began, I was already half in love. During all my scenes with John Daly I would just picture Gerald holding me in his strong arms.”
“That’s really romantic,” Evie said, right before she splashed a bit of the milk mixture over the edge of the bowl. “Shoot.”
“Here.” Miss Leona was quick to hand her a paper towel. Evie cleaned up her little spill, then grabbed the nutmeg. She held it up to her nose, smelling it again and again, and didn’t realize how long she’d been interrupting her own lesson until she turned and saw Miss Leona staring at her with a tiny smirk on her face.
“Sorry.”
“Let’s heat your pan.”
“Which do you like better?” Evie asked as she turned one of the front burners on the Viking range up to medium. “Film or television?”