Second Time Around. Erin Kaye
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the new restaurant in Ballyfergus, a start-up venture with no guarantee of success. Ben worried that he would fail, that he simply wouldn’t be able to summon the necessary energy and drive to deliver what his father expected.
So, far from looking forward to it, Ben was dreading it. And not just the long hours. He’d no desire to live in a small-town rural backwater like Ballyfergus. He didn’t want to leave Belfast and his flat full of books that he loved so much. Living near the university had helped him keep his dream of a teaching career alive. The only advantage he could see in moving to Ballyfergus was that it would mean getting away from Rebecca.
A short while later, as Matt and Ben strolled companionably across the pale ash floor of the restaurant towards the exit, they passed close by the dark-haired woman and her friend.
‘Matt!’
Abruptly they both stopped and looked over at the table and Matt’s face broke into a grin. ‘What are you doing here?’ he cried and, peeling away from Ben, went straight over to the table and embraced the sexy woman in black who was now standing with a white napkin dangling from her hand. How did Matt know her, he wondered. When they separated, she said, laughing, ‘I could ask you the same question.’
‘I came to see Ben here,’ he replied, ‘about a commis chef job.’
‘Oh,’ she said and blushed a little.
Ben came forward, not daring to look directly at the woman’s face in case he betrayed his uneasiness. He could smell her sweet, citrusy perfume now and see the gentle rise and fall of her chest, and lower still, the curve of her shapely calves.
‘Ben, this here’s Donna.’
Ben smiled and shook her hand.
‘… and this is my Mum.’
Mum! Startled, he looked straight at her then. This gorgeous creature was Matt’s mother? It was impossible. But then he saw the likeness in the oval shape of her face; the strong jaw line; the wide, pleasing mouth. And he saw, now that he was closer, that she was a little older than he’d assumed. Her skin creased at the corners of her eyes and she had deep laughter lines on both sides of her mouth when she smiled. She was no less beautiful than he’d first thought but disappointment tempered his admiration. She must’ve been very young when she’d had Matt. She looked directly at him, with eyes the same colour as Matt’s, every pretty feature illuminated and enhanced by the warm smile her son had inherited from her. ‘I’m Jennifer. Lovely to meet you, Ben.’
He managed to mumble something in reply and Jennifer said, ‘Well, how did the interview go?’
‘Great,’ said Ben.
‘I’ve still got to pass an interview with the Head Chef,’ added Matt.
‘More a formality than anything,’ said Ben boldly, without taking his eyes off Jennifer, realising as he said it, that it was a lie. Yet he was desperate for some reason to impress this woman – and please her.
‘Oh, that’s wonderful, Matt,’ she said and turned her attention to him, leaving Ben feeling as if a shadow had just passed overhead, blocking out the rays of the sun. She placed the flat of her palm on Matt’s cheek momentarily, causing him to redden with embarrassment, and added, ‘I’m so pleased for you. This looks like a great place to work.’ She dropped her hand and scanned the restaurant. ‘And Belfast isn’t so far away, is it?’ she said, as if trying to convince herself of something. ‘You’ll have to move up here, of course. Get your own place.’
‘The job isn’t in Belfast, Mum. It’s in Ballyfergus.’
‘Oh! Where?’ she said, her question directed not at Matt but at Ben.
‘Near the town centre,’ explained Ben, hiding his anxiety behind a smile. If Jason refused to employ Matt, he’d have to tell him that he couldn’t have the job. ‘On the site of an old fish and chip café. Peggy’s Kitchen, I think it was called.’
‘Oh, I know exactly where you mean,’ said Jennifer, her face lighting up. ‘It used to be a mecca for bikers from all round East Antrim. It closed down years ago. I’d heard it’d been sold.’ And turning to Matt she added, her face radiant with joy, ‘Imagine getting a job in Ballyfergus! Isn’t that just wonderful?’
Ben looked at Jennifer’s left hand. There was no band on her ring finger, but that didn’t mean anything. She certainly wouldn’t look at a guy like him. She’d want someone mature, a man who was secure in himself and his place in the world, someone confident and successful.
But even though he knew he had no chance with her, he wanted to know everything about her. Matt had mentioned that he lived with his mother and his résumé listed an address in Ballyfergus. He had not been looking forward to it but, all of a sudden, Ballyfergus seemed like an attractive proposition …
As if he could read Ben’s mind, Matt said, ‘Mum has her own interior design business in Ballyfergus. Just in case you’re looking for someone to design the restaurant.’
So she was both beautiful and smart. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, addressing Jennifer. ‘A company’s already contracted to do the interior. Calico Design. We’ve used them before.’
She waved away his apology with a hand gesture and simply laughed. ‘Good choice. Matt, stop being forward.’
‘Well someone has to be,’ he said good-naturedly and turned to Ben and added, ‘Mum’s not very good at self-promotion.’ Jennifer blushed and Matt went on, ‘I have to help her out now and again.’
‘Oh, don’t listen to him,’ she said, her eyes sparkling with merriment.
Matt pulled his mobile out of his pocket and looked at the screen. ‘I gotta go, everyone.’ He said his goodbyes and held out his hand to Ben. ‘Thanks mate.’
Then he left and Donna went to the ladies’, leaving Ben and Jennifer standing alone together.
‘Well, wasn’t that a coincidence?’ she mused. ‘Us coming here for lunch at the same time Matt turns up for an interview with you.’
‘Serendipity,’ said Ben, unable to stop himself from staring at her. She returned his gaze without so much as a blink and they stood like that for a few frozen seconds.
A loud entrance broke the eye contact. It was Rebecca, bare legged and short skirted. Ben’s heart sank. What was she doing here? She strode across the room, her high heels clipping loudly, her long fake-tanned legs the same colour as the varnished wood floor. She glanced from side to side, making sure everyone in the room was looking at her. And they were. Rebecca was a stunning model, signed with his mother’s modelling agency, Diane Crawford Models.
Rebecca flicked her head and long hair cascaded down like a curtain of spun gold. She wore as much make-up as a geisha – and a smile like a sticky plaster.
‘Ben,’ cried Rebecca, throwing elongated, thin arms around his neck and, to his absolute horror, planting a kiss on his lips. He detached her arms, tentacle-like, and wiped pink, gloopy lipstick from his mouth with the back of his hand. He managed a nervous laugh and she glowered at him from under eyelashes as thick and black as spider’s legs.
‘Rebecca! What are you doing here?’
‘Aren’t you pleased to see your girlfriend?’ she pouted childishly.
‘Well … yes … of course,’ he stumbled.
‘I had a modelling job in the area – a promotional thing in Castlecourt – and was just passing,’ she said airily. That explained the inappropriate make-up. She placed a proprietorial hand on his arm and lowered her voice. ‘I got your text. Thought I’d pop in rather than wait till tonight.’
She flashed a fixed, professional smile at Jennifer and he said, taking her cue, ‘Well, it’s been very nice meeting you, Jennifer. And I hope to see you and Donna in Ballyfergus when we open.’
‘You can count on it,’ said