Smiling, Tonya shook her head. “No. I’m a chef.”
Cameron’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. “So, you’re the one who will run the restaurant once Hannah converts this house into an inn?”
Her smile faded quickly. “You know about that?”
He smiled for the first time, the gesture softening his features and lighting up his luminous eyes as he inclined his head. “Yes. My family’s firm has managed the DuPont fortune for at least eighty-five years. She came to me earlier this summer to solicit my advice about liquidating some of her investments to ensure the viability of the inn.”
A hint of a smile played at the corners of Tonya’s mouth. “So, you’re the one who suggested she get investors.”
Cameron’s smile grew wider. “Guilty as charged.”
“I’m glad you suggested it, because if you hadn’t, then I doubt whether I’d ever plan to move down here.” Their conversation was preempted when a waiter asked for their dining selections. Tonya chose traditional New Orleans dishes, while Cameron opted for prime rib.
“When are you moving?” he asked.
“I’m projecting early next year.” She didn’t tell Cameron she still had to discuss the legalese in the contract Hannah had drawn up before presenting it to her own attorney for his perusal, and once approved she would then authorize her bank to electronically transfer the agreed-upon amount to Hannah’s bank account.
“What about your friends?”
She noticed Cameron was staring directly at Jasmine, who was engrossed in conversation with a man who appeared obviously enthralled with her. Tonya knew by the direction of Cameron’s attention that he too was interested in the interior designer turned human resource specialist.
“I don’t know. You’d have to ask Hannah about Jasmine and Nydia.”
Cameron blinked slowly at the same time a sardonic smile flitted over his firm mouth. “Oh, I will.”
Tonya was slightly taken aback at his response, and within seconds she knew instinctually that if Cameron wanted something, then it was his intent to go after it. But she wanted to warn the seemingly arrogant moneyman that Jasmine was not one to fall for the charm he appeared to turn on and off with such precision that it had probably had taken him years to perfect. She transferred her attention to Paul, leaving Cameron to stare longingly at Jasmine.
Glasses were filled with sparkling water and different wines as the waitstaff moved silently and efficiently about the tables. The disc jockey, who had set up his equipment earlier that afternoon, decided on a playlist of Broadway show tunes. He adjusted the volume so the diners did not have to shout to one another.
Tonya had to admit the caterers had outdone themselves with selections ranging from prime rib, grilled lamb chops, and salmon, Cornish hens, flounder stuffed with crabmeat, and blackened tuna. The accompanying sides included red beans and rice, broiled asparagus parmigiana, dirty rice, baked black-eyed peas, and Creole eggplant gratin. Although she had eaten dishes from all over the world, Tonya discovered she had fallen in love with New Orleans cooking.
She had sampled gumbo and red beans and rice in different Creole-themed New York City restaurants, but they could not compare to what Eustace prepared, and if she planned to open a restaurant, then she knew she had to perfect the local cuisine in order to compete with the many other establishments in the city. Hannah had tentatively projected opening the DuPont Inn in time for Mardi Gras. The smaller guesthouse would be renovated into a café to provide a buffet breakfast for inn guests, while the projected date for the supper club’s grand opening was scheduled for later that summer. By that time she knew she would be more than ready to offer international as well as familiar dishes.
Dinner was leisurely and interrupted several times with toasts to the bride and groom, who both stood up to acknowledge everyone. The mood changed, becoming livelier as the DJ switched his playlist to more upbeat tunes, while the waitstaff set up a number of round tables, each with seating for six for the reception. The invitation indicated dancing would follow dessert and coffee. Tonya knew she had eaten too much and prayed she would not encounter a wardrobe malfunction in which her breasts escaped the revealing décol-letage. A silent voice had told her when she first tried on the gown that she was flirting with danger, but she ignored it because it made her feel feminineandsexy.
As soon as coffee was served, she sought out Eustace in the kitchen that never ceased to overwhelm her with its size and functionality. When first introduced to the cook, Tonya thought she could have been looking at her twin brother, because they had the same reddish-brown complexion and dimpled cheeks. Father of three, grandfather of seven, standing several inches above six feet, Eustace had years ago forfeited the opportunity to play college football to join his father running Chez Toussaints.
Eustace crossed massive arms over his broad chest and smiled at Tonya. “Are you here to grade us like they do with restaurants in New York City?” he teased.
She smiled. “If I had to give you a grade, then it certainly would be an A, along with a Zagat rating. I just want you to know that you’ve outdone yourself tonight.”
Eustace inclined his head. “Thank you, madam chef. How long are you going to be in town?”
“I’ll be here until Wednesday afternoon.”
“Why don’t you come by the restaurant tomorrow and I’ll show you some Toussaint secrets for some of our best-selling dishes.”
Tonya went completely still. Cooks and chefs were notorious for not revealing the ingredients that went into their more popular dishes. “Okay,” she said when she finally recovered her voice.
“I’m catering another party tomorrow afternoon, so I’ll have my brother come by and pick you up—say around seven. I hope that’s not too early for you.”
“Of course not,” she replied, much too quickly. If one of the most renowned cooks in the city was willing to reveal his family’s secrets and wanted her there at midnight, then she would be ready and willing to agree to any time. “Thank you, Eustace.”
He waved a large hand. “There’s no need to thank me. If my cousin’s wife is going to open a restaurant, then the chef that’s going to run the restaurant can’t embarrass the family.”
Tonya nodded. It was apparent Eustace regarded Hannah as family now that she was married to St. John.
She returned to the ballroom. The banquet tables had been cleared, and the guests claimed seats at the round tables as bartenders were taking drink orders. Tonya had just claimed a chair at a table with St. John’s sister, brother-in-law, and their children when the DJ announced the bride and groom were going to share their first dance as husband and wife. St. John had shed his jacket, while Hannah had changed her shoes. Tonya was as surprised as everyone when they assumed dance positions for the tango.
A roar of approval went up in the ballroom as they literally floated across the floor like professional dancers to Adele’s “Sweetest Devotion.” Hannah boasted that she had become St. John’s dance partner over the summer.They are perfect together. The thought had entered Tonya’s head unbidden. It had only taken seconds for her to acknowledge that Hannah had it all: a magnificent home, a brilliant, handsome new husband, and a new career as an innkeeper.
She exhaled an audible sigh and smiled. Never again would she be called into an office and told it was to become her last day. And knowing she would own and operate her own restaurant strengthened Tonya’s resolve to make her own dream a reality.
