Rochelle Alers - Dealmaker, Heartbreaker

Her admiring gaze took in Noah’s crisp light blue shirt he had paired with slim-fitting jeans and Doc Martens. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

He stared at her under lowered lids. “Like a newborn in his mama’s arms.”

“Good.” She pointed to the buffet table. “Breakfast is ready. Let me know if you want an omelet, and I’ll have the cook make one for you.”

Noah glanced around the dining room with a table set for six. “How many guests are you expecting?”

“Only two. A couple checked in late last night, and they’ll probably be down later.”

“Did you eat?”

Viviana shook her head. “I had a cup of coffee. I’ll eat later.”

“Will it bother you if I ask you to eat with me? I hate eating alone.”

She wondered if he was extending an olive branch when it should’ve been her apologizing for her sharp tongue. “Of course I’ll eat with you.” She pointed to a round table in the corner with place settings for two. “We can eat over there.”

Noah rested a hand at the small of her back. “Why don’t you go and sit down. Tell me what you want.”

“Oh, you’re going to serve me?”

He smiled. “Of course. We Wainwright men may not be able to cook well, but we do know how to serve a woman.”

Viviana wanted to remind Noah that she wasn’t his woman or even a Wainwright woman but decided to play along. It was better than trading barbs with him. She executed a graceful curtsy. “I’m sorry I barked at you yesterday, and I want to—”

Noah placed a finger over her parted lips, cutting off her apology. His mouth was a hairbreadth from hers. “No apologies. It’s in the past, and I don’t believe in reliving the past,” he said, winking at her. His eyebrows lifted questioningly. “Agree?”

Viviana was too stunned to speak and nodded instead. Noah hadn’t kissed her, but that did not stop her heart from beating faster than normal. Did he not know he was much too virile for her to ignore? All he had to do was stare at her, and she felt things she did not want to feel. The scars from her last relationship were still healing, and she did not want to reopen them.

“What do you want?”

“Bring me whatever you’re going to eat.”

“What if I bring enough for us to share?” he asked.

Viviana smiled. “Okay.”

The cook always prepared enough for the registered guests and staff, eliminating the need for storing leftovers or throwing food away—something she loathed because there were people in The Falls that depended on the church’s outreach pantry to supply them with staples they needed to feed their families.

She watched Noah fill several plates and balance them along his arm as he returned to the table, and she wondered if he had been a waiter but quickly dashed the idea because of what she’d gleaned about the Wainwrights. She knew Noah and Giles did not have to wait tables to earn extra pocket money like a lot of young men she knew. Fortunately for her, she and Leland were exempt; they weren’t as wealthy as their ancestors, the Johnson County Wolfes, but they had still grown up in relative comfort.

“It looks as if you’ve had a lot of practice waiting tables,” she teased when he set down four dishes with scrambled eggs, home fries, bacon, sausage patties and sliced melon.

Noah winked at her again. “I’m auditioning for a job in your dining room.”

Her smile grew wider, bringing his gaze to linger on her lips. “I haven’t advertised for a waiter.”

Noah tugged on the single braid falling down her back. “If you decide to advertise, then I’m willing to take the position. I’m going back to get some juice and coffee.”

Viviana held his arm. “Sit down and eat. I’ll get the beverages. What do you want?”

“Cranberry juice and black coffee.”

She got up and walked over to the beverage table and filled a glass with chilled juice and a mug with coffee. Noah stood up when she returned to the table and pulled out the chair to seat her. Viviana did not have too many memories of her parents together when she was a young girl, but the one that had lingered was when her father would pull out a chair to seat her mother. It was a habit he had repeated with her whenever they were together.

She smiled at him over her shoulder. “Thank you.”

It was several seconds before he returned the smile and nodded.

* * *

Noah spread a cloth napkin over his lap and then picked up a forkful of fluffy scrambled eggs. They were delicious. “The cook gets an A.”

“I’ll let him know.”

He took a sip of the hot coffee. “The dishes you and your sister-in-law made when I first came here were exceptional. Where did you learn to cook like that?”

“My aunt is a professional chef and taught me and my brother. Lee’s an excellent cook, but once he graduates culinary school he’s going to be exceptional.”

“What about your mother? Is she a good cook?”

She stared at her plate. “My mother died when I was seven. Talking about my parents is a long story that I really don’t want to get into right now.”

Reaching across the table, Noah held her left hand. “I’m sorry, Viviana. You don’t ever have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Her head popped up. “One of these days, maybe I’ll feel comfortable enough with you to tell you the whole sordid story about my family.”

His hand tightened on her fingers. “I’m willing to bet my family’s secrets are just as sordid or even more so than yours.”

Her eyes grew wider. “They couldn’t be.”

Noah leaned over the table. “Do yours include affairs, secret babies and gangsters?”

Viviana’s jaw dropped. “Well...no.”

He released her fingers and sat back in his chair. “The only thing I’m going to say is if you have enough money, you can bury your secrets for a while, but then somehow they come to the surface and you’ll have to own it.” Noah stared over her head. “How many guests are you averaging a week?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Probably around four. I know it’s not much, but I’m counting on more once hunting season begins.”

“And how long is that?”

“Two weeks in November. I don’t expect to be at full capacity until the spring and summer during tourist season. This is my first time operating a B and B, so next year I’m thinking of closing down from late November to early April.”

“Did you operate the boardinghouse year-round?” Noah hoped talking to Viviana about her business instead of herself would allow her to relax enough to feel completely at ease with him.

“Yes. I had regular boarders who paid by the month, and I served them two meals a day—breakfast and dinner. The problem was I had to be available around the clock every day of the year, and that was exhausting even with regular staff.”

Noah nodded. “I believe a bed-and-breakfast is less taxing. Once your elusive writer moves out, you should consider renting that guesthouse to a tenant who would be responsible for their own meals and laundry.”

“Now you sound like Angela. She wanted me to advertise the guesthouses as rentals, which would bring in steady income.”

“You have ten bedroom suites in this house, five in each wing you’ve designated for business and the other five for personal use. And if you’re going to wait for the spring to fill the business suites, then you can’t expect much of a profit margin.”

“I’ve factored that into my budget projection. That’s why none of my employees are full-timers.”

“What about your cook?”

“He comes in at six and leaves at nine. I take over the kitchen duties and serve guests until ten, and then I clean up the kitchen.”

“That’s a lot of work.”