Getting Lucky (The Portland Pioneers Book 2) by Beth Bolden Read Free Book Online Page A

kitchen.
    “I’ve got it covered,” Maggie announced more confidently than she felt. While Noah might be certain the belt was the issue, he also played baseball for a living . How much could he really know about professional restaurant equipment? Even Cal had had to do major research when he’d designed and installed her kitchen at the Café, and Cal was an architect and had been working in his dad’s construction business since he was old enough to swing a hammer.
    “Calvin isn’t coming?” Rosa asked again, more pointedly this time and Maggie couldn’t help but flush at her evasion being discovered.
    “I haven’t heard from him,” she had to finally admit.
    Maggie’s admission was enough to trump even the Denver omelet. Rosa turned from the temporary burners and pinned her with a sharp look. “You’ve had the strangest look on your face every time his name’s mentioned today. And now he’s not here. Tell me what happened.”
    Glancing at the order tickets, Maggie pulled out a few pieces of thick sourdough bread and dipped them into the egg batter sitting on the counter. Letting the bread soak, she pulled out a new skillet and sliding next to Rosa like she’d never left, Maggie ladled in a scoop of clarified butter and heard it sizzle as it hit the pan.
    Even though half her attention was clearly on the French toast she was cooking, Maggie had way too much additional brainpower left and she agonized over whether she should say anything to Rosa. She was a great employee and a good friend, but Cal was her best friend. They’d been through their whole lives together, practically. The years she’d been in San Francisco and he’d been studying architecture on the east coast were the only time they’d really spent apart.
    “Nothing, really. I guess he must be busy.” Maggie knew she was a terrible liar and hoped that Rosa was preoccupied enough with finishing off her Denver omelet to realize it.
    Maggie flipped her French toast, but didn’t miss the inquisitive glance Rosa shot her.
    “That boy is never too busy for you,” Rosa said so matter-of-factly that Maggie’s stomach clenched at the thought this might no longer be true.
    “He’s been really busy at the Sanderson job. I heard him say last night they’re about to lay some tile. Maybe he turned off his phone to concentrate.”
    Rosa was not a stupid lady. Cal hadn’t really gotten his hands dirty in years. He had employees for that. “Maybe,” she murmured softly as she scooped softened honey butter onto her pile of pancakes and slid it under the heat lamp.
    Returning her attention back to her French toast, Maggie grabbed a plate from the stack and let the pieces slide from the pan in a jumble of crisp, caramel edges and soft, buttery insides. She tapped the powdered sugar shaker, leaving only hints of the brown buttery crust behind, then turned to the fruit station, expertly wielding a small knife to dissect a fat strawberry and then fan out the slices onto the plate.
    She’d just set the plate of French toast on the heated pass through when she heard his voice.
    Wiping her hands on her apron and stupidly, self-consciously raising a hand to smooth the short blonde ponytail she’d put so little thought into this morning, Maggie headed into the dining room. Sure enough, Cal had clearly just walked through the door, greeting the various townspeople he knew with smiles and a handshake or two. Then his eyes reached hers and he flushed. “Maggie,” he said, and the apologetic tone in his voice only went a little bit to cooling her sudden burst of temper.
    “Calvin,” she replied a lot more evenly than he deserved.
    “I just got your messages. My phone crashed, I guess.” He shrugged like it was a minor inconvenience, when she’d been sweating and stressing all morning about the repair and then about losing his friendship.
    This wasn’t the time or the place to let him know just where he could shove his stupid excuse, but she shot him a