Read Online Dining with Joy by Rachel Hauck - Free Book Online Page A

camera.
    â€œJealous?” Allison peeked up at him. Onstage, Joy and Luke were fumbling around.
    â€œThree years I’ve been filming her show. One hour on the stage and he gets the kiss?”
    Allison laughed. “This is my lucky day.”
    What motivated Joy to pull such a stunt, Allison didn’t know or care. The girl was pure gold. She’d stolen the show right out from under Wenda Divine. It wasn’t about food anymore.
    Allison forwarded the picture she’d just taken to Dan Greene at TruReality with “Wow Factor” in the subject line. Then she motioned to Garth and the camera. “Upload this clip to YouTube. I’ll get it up on Joy’s website. Let’s get the buzz going, start invoking the magic.”

Seven
    Monday evening Luke carried the Frogmore’s trash across the sand-and-broken-shell parking lot to the Dumpster.
    The dinner rush ebbed a few hours ago and he’d spent the evening prepping the café for Andy Castleton’s Tuesday morning return. Luke’s tenure as executive chef was complete.
    After tossing the Hefty bag into the open container, he walked to the edge of the yard and gazed toward Waterfront Park, his heart straining to see the ghost of his Saturday afternoon kiss with Joy.
    For two days his lips had tingled with her phantom taste. She invaded his thoughts. Every time he heard the café’s front bells ring out, he craned around the edge of the stove to see if she entered the dining room.
    At first, Joy’s spontaneous kiss robbed his breath, then morphed to a fun stunt, a dig at Wenda. Bravo, Joy. But then it became something deeper, and when she softened to break away, his heart panicked. Don’t let her go .
    He’d been kissed many times, but not wooed until he drowned in the sensation of being wanted.
    Luke’s eyes scanned the park one last time before turning back to the café and the waiting inventory. UPS would deliver an early morning shipment of supplies tomorrow, and he wanted the walk-in and stockroom organized and ready to go for his boss.
    When Luke entered the kitchen, Mercy Bea eyed him from her propped position on the porch post, cleaning her teeth with a toothpick.
    â€œYou got a visitor.” She bent back to toss the toothpick in the trash. “And no, it ain’t Joy.”
    â€œNow why would I want it to be Joy?” Luke swung the screen door wide, letting it clap against the tabby wall and paused at the sink to wash his hands. When he reached for the towel, Mercy Bea held yesterday’s Sunday Gazette under his nose.
    â€œThis is why you want it to be Joy.” Mercy Bea flipped through the pages with exaggeration. “Let’s see. Who won the Water Festival Cook-Off ? Wenda Divine or Joy Ballard? Gee, I can’t find news of it anywhere here in the front section.” She snapped her knuckles against the front page. “But I sure know who Joy Ballard’s kissing. What a humdinger. Felt it all the way to the second row.”
    Luke mashed down the paper and peered into Mercy’s eyes. Enough. He didn’t need a reminder. “Where’d you sit my visitor?”
    â€œBack booth.” Mercy tucked the folded newspaper under her arm. “Just so you know, I’m keeping this for posterity.”
    â€œYou do that.” Luke exited the kitchen into the dining room, sweeping his gaze around the tables in case she happened in while Mercy Bea picked her teeth. Paris waited on a couple of tourists, and Russell bussed the tables left over from the dinner crowd.
    And there was no Joy in the room.
    But in the back booth, sitting in a wide swath of southern light, sat a petite dark-haired woman.
    â€œAfternoon,” Luke said as he approached. “What can I do for you?” Luke remained standing, his arms folded over his stained chef whites. It’d been a messy day in the kitchen.
    â€œLuke Redmond, I’m Allison Wild.” The woman motioned