The Marriage Recipe Read Free Page A

brother scares me. This isn’t some silly TV show. It’s real life. In fact—” her gaze lighted on the chocolate cakes she’d left out to cool “—you want my recipes?”
    â€œThey are Alessandro’s property,” he reiterated.
    Rachel smiled. “Fine. Have them.” She dug her hand into the nearest nine-inch cake pan and drew out a still-warm chunk of moist chocolate cake. Within seconds, the huge mass had found a new home on the front of Marco’s suit. She stood there, defiant. Marco took one step forward, then stopped, aware of the avid audience. “Replacing my suit will come out of your final check,” he said.
    â€œIn that case…” Rachel shrugged, reached into another cake pan and hurled another gob at him, this time nailing him on the neck. Brown crumbs clung to his jaw, catching on the evening stubble. “Now, that’s worth every penny.”
    Marco glared at her but didn’t say another word. Instead he turned, retreated, and moments later the door to his office slammed, the sound resonating throughout the kitchen.
    The staff looked at Rachel in obvious appreciation before quickly returning to work. Only Glynnis followed Rachel to her locker. “Never would have believed that if I hadn’t seen it. You’ll be the talk of the crew for days. Can’t say he didn’t have it coming to him.”
    â€œYou’ve been great to work with,” Rachel said, her adrenaline beginning to ebb as the reality of what she’d done crept in. She removed her Alessandro’s apron and tossed it on a table.
    â€œCall me if you ever need me,” Glynnis said. “I’d come work for you anyday.”
    â€œThanks, but I’ll have to let you know. I’m somewhat unemployable at the moment.” Rachel tugged her coat from her locker and grabbed her purse. She dumped the padlock and key into her bag, then she reached up to the top shelf and took down the only other item in the locker. She kept most of her recipes at her apartment, but she’d made copies of the desserts she baked for Alessandro’s and stored them here in a small notebook.
    â€œYou’re giving him those?” Glynnis asked.
    â€œHell, no,” Rachel said with a wry laugh. “He’s not going to sue me, and he can rot somewhere hot if he does.”
    â€œSo what will you do? You don’t have the money to fight him if you can’t work,” Glynnis said, obviously concerned.
    â€œOh, I’ve got a job waiting for me,” Rachel declared, not wanting Glynnis to worry. Rachel would have to put her tail between her legs to ask for the position, but once she walked in the door, she knew the owners wouldn’t turn her away.
    â€œYou got a job? Where?” Glynnis asked.
    â€œKim’s Diner,” Rachel said, the idea taking hold.
    Glynnis appeared confused. “Kim’s? Is it in Jersey?”
    â€œNo. Morrisville.” Rachel saw her expression. “Indiana.”
    â€œNever heard of it,” Glynnis admitted.
    That was the kicker. “No one has.” The adrenaline of the moment had worn off completely and Rachel trembled as she digested the implications of her rash decision. She’d hate leaving New York. She loved the city. She vowed to make her exile only temporary. She plastered a brave smile on her face.
    â€œYou know what the tough do when the going gets rough?” she asked.
    Glynnis shook her head.
    Rachel picked up her bag and gave Glynnis a hug. Hopefully, she’d see her friend soon. “The tough go home.”

Chapter Two
    â€œWho would have thought coming home would cause this much stir,” Rachel said as she put away the last of the clean dishes.
    â€œNow, don’t let all the gossips get you down.” Her grandmother Kim said as she handed Rachel one last plate. The diner was only open for breakfast and lunch, and as soon as longtime patron Harold Robison