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some mysteries by authors she liked, too. Her eyes lit
up when she saw the latest novel from one of her favorite mystery writers. She
had the same novel sitting next to her bed.
    Taking a last look around the apartment, Quinn had
a brief pang of regret. Zach and she shared so many of the same interests. Shaking
her head, she closed his apartment door behind her.

 
 
 
    chapter ten

 
    Quinn woke up at five a.m. on Monday morning. She
planned to arrive at work early this morning so she could try a new recipe. She
had been experimenting with tiramisu and wanted to make it and a traditional
peach pie.
    She did her morning yoga. She finished her routine
and took a quick shower. Once dressed in a pair of jeans and a navy blue V-necked
t-shirt, she poured herself a cup of coffee and turned on her computer to check
her email. As she scanned her inbox, she was surprised to see it was flooded
with comments forwarded from her new blog, The Romance Report. Many of the
comments posted were supportive although a few made snide remarks. Pleased, she
closed her laptop, fed Fat Panther and headed to work.
    By noon, Quinn had finished making her desserts
and had the rolls prepped to go into the oven. Monday nights were often the
restaurant’s slowest, so Quinn made a smaller batch. Her uncle arrived shortly
after twelve to start prepping for dinner. He was thrilled with her desserts
and Quinn felt a small rush of pride.
    “I love baking. It makes me think of Grandma. Speaking
of which, Mom wants you to call her and give her your list of guests for the
big birthday celebration,” Quinn informed him.
    “I only have a few folks I want to make sure are
invited. If I know your mother, she probably has a list of two hundred people
written down and has to figure out who to offend and who she needs to curry
favor.”
    “Not saying a word. I’m Switzerland when it comes
to you and mom.” Quinn held up her hands in mock self-defense. “I said I would
ask and my duty here is done.”
    “It’s fine. I have forty-five years of big sister
self-defense under my belt,” her uncle laughed.
    “I bow to the master,” Quinn made a gesture of
obeisance.
    “Quinn, I wanted to talk to you about an idea I’ve
been kicking around in my head.”
    “Okay. What’s up?”
    “You have talent. Real talent and I’m not talking
about your writing. Don’t get me wrong. I think you’re a talented writer, but I
think you should go to culinary school,” Uncle Pat said.
    “Oh, wow! I’ve never even thought about culinary
school. I mean, Mom and Dad pretty much expect me to follow in their
footsteps.”
    “I’m not saying being a journalist isn’t a good
career for you. What I’m saying is that you have a real gift in the kitchen.
You always have. You love food. You love to cook. Maybe you would like to
follow in your Uncle Pat’s footsteps and become a chef.”
    “You really think I’m a good cook?”
    “Definitely. I want to show you something.” He
walked into his office and a moment later came out with a newspaper and handed
it to her. “Read Jacob Malachy’s column.”
    Quinn started to read. It was a review of her
uncle’s restaurant. “Sounds like Jacob Malachy is a fan of Hanrahan’s.”
    “Keep reading.”
    Quinn continued reading the article. Hanrahan’s
not only boasts a vibrant menu of fresh dishes sure to please even the most
discerning palate, it serves the most delicious desserts this writer has had
the pleasure to taste in some time. The chocolate orange cake melted in my
mouth. It was a taste heaven here on earth.
    “Quinnie Bee, Ma passed her gift in the kitchen to
me and you. I’m not saying you need to make a decision or even go to school if
that’s not what you want. I want you to think about it. If you decide it’s
something you want to do, I’ll pay for you to go.”
    “I can’t let you do that, Uncle Pat,” Quinn
interrupted.
    “I wasn’t finished. I will pay for you to go to
school with the