Restoring Romance (Welcome to Romance 1)

She heard her cell phone ringing in the kitchen and lunged down the stairway, almost tripping on the cat running between her legs. Lucky had been clinging to her like a shadow since she’d brought her home.

“Maggie!” Ash answered the phone, breathing hard from her exertion. “I’m so glad you called. I miss you so much.”

“Ha! I know better—it’s Sumo you really miss.”

“I’ll admit I love Sumo a lot.” Ash chuckled, glancing down to where Lucky was rubbing her head against her leg. “Don’t tell him, but I adopted a cat yesterday at a little fair in downtown Romance.”

“What? You’re gone one day, and you have a new cat? Did you also pick up a new best friend?”

Ready for a long talk, Ash retrieved a mug and started a cup of coffee in her Keurig, the only kitchen appliance she’d unpacked. “Lucky could never replace Sumo in my heart, and I certainly haven’t made a best friend. It’ll probably take me a year before I make any friends. Without you, I’m going crazy. You know I can’t process anything until I talk to you.”

“It’s only been like twenty-four hours. What do you have to process?”

“Everything!” Should she tell her about Adam? What would she say? That she met a tall, dark, handsome stranger with whom she had nothing in common? No, talking about him wouldn’t change anything. She decided to stick to the real issues. “I found out I have to totally separate the restaurant from the living quarters and make a new entrance for the upstairs. So I’ll have to put in an upstairs kitchen, too. And I need to choose the colors for the inside and the outside—you know how hard it is for me to make a decision. And my new cat seems to have some sort of weird feline separation anxiety.”

“Okay that’s a lot of stuff.”

“That’s not all. I’m trying to find out about my family, and it’s like my grandmother boxed up everything that had to do with my mom and hid it away. And there’s no evidence she even knew I existed.”

“Hmm... that would explain why your grandmother never contacted you. It’s so unfair that you missed out on a normal family.”

Ash slid into an ornately carved dining chair, placing a napkin under her mug to protect the antique table. “Yeah, if I’d known I had any relatives, I might not have ended up in the foster system when Mom overdosed. But I was an angry, out-of-control, thirteen-year-old. Who knows? Maybe someone contacted my grandmother, and she didn’t want me.”

“I know it’s selfish of me, but I’m glad things worked out the way they did. If you’d lived in Oregon when you were a teenager, it’s likely we never would’ve met. Besides, I like you just as you are. You wouldn’t have such a heart for kids if your life hadn’t been so terrible growing up.”

She sipped her coffee, considering Maggie’s argument. Ash’s teenage years in the Texas foster system had been a series of loveless homes, but at least she hadn’t feared for her life as she did when she was a young child. After high school, she moved to Dallas, working odd jobs until she finally landed a waitress position at a posh restaurant. Lauren Holt, the owner and chef, a thirty-something woman with flawless skin and impeccable style, had taken Ash under her wing. With Lauren’s encouragement, Ash saved her money to move to New York, determined to attend culinary school.

“I guess you’re right. I never would’ve moved to New York if I hadn’t met Lauren in Texas, but I still wish I could’ve known my grandmother.”

“Surely your grandma knew about you, or she wouldn’t have left you the house, right?” Maggie reasoned.

“Not necessarily. The will left the house to my mom. I only got it because there was a clause that said it would go to her offspring if she died first.”

When the letter arrived from the attorney in Oregon, it was as if someone had handed Ash her dream, wrapped in an envelope with a stamp in the corner. She inherited a house and almost fifty thousand dollars from a grandmother she’d never heard of. She now had the means to open her own restaurant and follow in her mentor’s footsteps. Yet in that moment, she recognized the terrible truth. She would gladly have traded the house and money away for the opportunity to have a real grandmother... a real family. And now it was too late.

“It’s possible I might still have living family, though. I found a trunk in the basement with some pictures inside. There were three kids—two girls and a boy—and I think the youngest was my mom, though I’m not positive. They all looked similar in the photo... same blond hair and blue eyes, like mom and me.”

“But if you had an aunt and uncle, wouldn’t your grandmother have left the house and money to them?”

Ash pushed away from the table and carried her coffee into the living room, settling on a floral patterned settee. “Yeah, I thought of that. I’m thinking it probably means they’ve already passed away, but surely I have some cousins somewhere.”

“That’s true. How are you going to find out?”

“It shouldn’t be too hard. My grandmother was evidently some kind of a celebrity around here—descended from a couple that started the town with their famous romance.” She rubbed her fingers across the fabric of the seat cushion. “I swear, it looks like my grandmother’s furniture is all from the 1800’s. I’m really not into all this Victorian stuff—way too froo-froo for me.”

“Maybe you can sell it and get something more modern.”

“Or... you could come visit and help me redecorate.” Ash picked up her coffee mug and brought it to her face, savoring the smell before taking a sip. She already knew Maggie couldn’t come, but she couldn’t help asking.

“And get fired after three weeks at my new job? I don’t think so.”

A knock sounded at the front door—Ash jumped, almost spilling her coffee. “Someone’s at the door. What should I do?”

“Duh! Why don’t you answer it?”

“But I don’t know anybody. Who would come to my house on a Sunday afternoon?”

“You could open the door