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The Tea Shop on Lavender Lane
Sheila Roberts
When it comes to men, sisters don't share!After a fake food poisoning incident in L.A., Bailey Sterling's dreams of becoming a caterer to the stars collapse faster than a oufflé. Now Bailey's face is in all the gossip rags and her business is in ruins. But the Sterling women close ranks and bring her back to Icicle Falls, where she'll stay with her sister Cecily.All goes well between the sisters until Bailey comes up with a new business idea - a tea shop on a charming street called Lavender Lane. She's going into partnership with Todd Black, who - it turns out - is the man Cecily's started dating. It looks to Cecily as if there's more than tea brewing in that cute little shop. And she's not please.Wait! Isn't Cecily seeing Luke Goodman? He's a widower with an adorable little girl, and yes, Cecily does care about him. But Todd's the one who sends her zing-o-meter off the charts. So now what? Should you have to choose between your sister and the man you love (or think you love)?Welcome to Icicle Falls, the town that will warm your heart.'Sheila Roberts makes me laugh. I read her books & come away hopeful and happy.' - bestselling romance author Debbie Macomber
When it comes to men, sisters don’t share!
After a fake food poisoning incident in L.A., Bailey Sterling’s dreams of becoming a caterer to the stars collapse faster than a soufflé. Now Bailey’s face is in all the gossip rags and her business is in ruins. But the Sterling women close ranks and bring her back to Icicle Falls, where she’ll stay with her sister Cecily.
All goes well between the sisters until Bailey comes up with a new business idea—a tea shop on a charming street called Lavender Lane. She’s going into partnership with Todd Black, who—it turns out—is the man Cecily’s started dating. It looks to Cecily as if there’s more than tea brewing in that cute little shop. And she’s not pleased.
Wait! Isn’t Cecily seeing Luke Goodman? He’s a widower with an adorable little girl, and yes, Cecily does care about him. But Todd’s the one who sends her zing-o-meter off the charts. So now what? Should you have to choose between your sister and the man you love (or think you love)?
www.SheilasPlace.com (http://www.SheilasPlace.com)
Praise for the novels of Sheila Roberts (#u41e1ead5-8ff4-59a5-a7f7-76ae0b53d248)
“This is an engrossing story with strong characters and arcs similar to Debbie Macomber’s Cedar Cove titles. The light romance, delicious descriptions of chocolate and recipes add to the flavor of Roberts’s promising new series.”
—Booklist on Better than Chocolate
“Strong and determined women wrapped up in sinful chocolate is the recipe for Roberts’s inspiring Life in Icicle Falls series starter.”
—RT Book Reviews on Better than Chocolate
“Homing in on issues many readers can identify with, Roberts’s women search for practical solutions to a common challenge with humor.”
—Publisher’s Weekly
“Within minutes of cracking open the book, my mood was lifted...the warm, glowing feeling it gave me lasted for days.”
—First for Women on The Snow Globe
“Her characters are warm and engaging, and their interactions are full of humor.”
—RT Book Reviews on Bikini Season
“An uplifting, charming, feel-good story.”
—Booklist on Angel Lane
“Will doubtless warm more than a few hearts.”
—Publishers Weekly on Angel Lane
“Love in Bloom is a wonderful story with characters so real and defined I feel like I am personally acquainted with them....There is humor and emotion in large quantities in this fantastic book that is next to impossible to put down. Kudos and a large bouquet of flowers to Sheila Roberts for giving us one of the best books of the year.”
—Fresh Fiction
The Tea Shop on Lavender Lane
Sheila Roberts
www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)
For Jill, the next best thing to a sister
Dear Reader (#u41e1ead5-8ff4-59a5-a7f7-76ae0b53d248),
Thanks so much for joining me again in Icicle Falls. You’re just in time for summer fun with Bailey Sterling, who’s returning home to pick up the pieces of her life. Sadly, Bailey discovered that being a caterer to the stars in L.A. wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. So when the going gets tough the tough get going...back home to family and friends and new beginnings.
And speaking of new beginnings, Bailey’s sister Cecily is working on some herself—with Todd Black, the sexy owner of The Man Cave. Everything is going smoothly, or so it seems, until her baby sister hits town and decides to open a tea shop on Lavender Lane. Suddenly, Bailey’s new business takes an interesting turn, while Cecily’s well-planned life takes a nosedive, thanks to small-town complications and unexpected sibling rivalry.
But I have a feeling everything will work out here in Icicle Falls. Meanwhile, I hope you’ll brew yourself a cup of tea, enjoy a scone and join my friends on their newest adventure here in my favorite mountain town.
Please check out my website, www.sheilasplace.com (http://www.sheilasplace.com), for information on upcoming books, contests, recipes and more. And I’d be delighted if you followed me on Twitter and Facebook (look for Sheila Roberts, author).
Sheila
Contents
Cover (#uea1d16b7-c7ba-53db-b007-f8df965bf1d2)
Back Cover Text (#ua488686a-d735-5934-bbda-14ce6f2bd3c8)
Praise
Title Page (#ua127a552-f9ff-538d-a666-20b043be3021)
Dedication (#u32e2a415-57b5-55a4-822f-75794c74ab81)
Dear Reader
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
A Little About Tea
Acknowledgments
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u41e1ead5-8ff4-59a5-a7f7-76ae0b53d248)
The party was going perfectly until the hostess clutched her stomach with an agonized cry and crumpled to the floor.
Rory Rourke, her boyfriend and star of the new TV series Man Handled, knelt by the woman’s side and barked, “Someone, call 911.”
“Call her doctor,” said someone else.
“Call the Star Reporter,” the victim said faintly.
And that was when Bailey Sterling knew she was in trouble.
She’d been so excited to land this gig catering Samba Barrett’s party. Samba wasn’t an Emma Stone or Kristen Stewart, but she was...someone. Sort of. And with her catlike green eyes and red hair, she was on her way up, like the rest of her party guests. It was what everyone said. And surely that had meant Bailey was on her way up, too. The West Hollywood apartment had been packed with hot young actors and actresses. As she’d slipped among them bearing trays of goodies, she’d heard more than one person rave about the food and had envisioned a whole string of catering gigs after this one.
The shrimp salsa in phyllo cups had been an especially big hit. “Oh, my God, this is to die for,” Angelica Winston (from the new reality show Hard Ass) had raved. Bailey had smiled modestly and kept circulating, while her assistant Giorgio served up stuffed mushrooms. She’d been working for the past three years to earn a reputation as caterer to the stars, and things were finally starting to happen.
Except here was Samba Barrett, writhing on her living room floor, groaning in agony. Twenty minutes ago she’d been eating those shrimp cups and laughing. Did she have food allergies she hadn’t told Bailey about? Samba had gone over the menu with her, approved everything. How could this have happened? Was Bailey going to be known as killer of the stars?
Thirty people gathered around the actress, some offering advice, some taking pictures with their cell phones, others texting wildly. Bailey stood on the fringe and nervously downed one of her own appetizers.
“You’ll be okay, baby,” Rory Rourke assured Samba.
“I think I ate something bad,” she whimpered.
“Oh, no, that’s not possible,” Bailey protested, and everyone turned to look at her. One woman aimed her cell phone at Bailey, capturing her miserable expression. This couldn’t be happening.
But it could. And it was. Now Bailey felt sick. She lost her grip on the tray of canapés she was carrying and down they went, the tray landing on the Jimmy Choos of one of the party guests busily recording her hostess’s misery on her cell phone.
The woman next to her let out a yelp and jumped back, then glared at Bailey.
“Sorry,” Bailey muttered and bent to scoop the mess onto the tray. In the process she managed to get in the way of another guest, nearly tripping him.
He didn’t settle for glaring. He swore at her.
Catering hell—that was what this was. Bailey made a dash for the kitchen and hid out, watching the drama unfold from behind the counter.
The ambulance arrived, and the EMTs showed up to take Samba’s vitals and load her onto a stretcher. Then away she went, a pitiful—but gorgeous—victim of Sterling Catering.
The guests switched from eating to drinking. Rory told Bailey she could clean up and leave, and not in the kindest tone of voice. He didn’t offer to pay her, and she didn’t ask. All she wanted to do was get out of that cramped apartment full of the young and the beautiful.
By the time she left, the media was waiting. Photographers snapped her picture, and reporters stuck microphones in her face. “Have you catered for Samba before?”... “Has Samba threatened to sue?”... “What’s your relationship with Rory Rourke?”
Bailey stood there like Bambi staring at the headlights of a Mack truck, her toque askew, offering quotable quotes such as, “What?”
She quickly realized that it was time to scram and bolted for the van where Giorgio was loading up boxes of supplies...and telling a reporter that he wasn’t involved with any of the food prep. “I’m only doing this while I wait to hear from my agent. We’ve got something big in the works. Giorgio Romano. R-o-m...”
Bailey tossed in the last of her serving equipment, then tugged on his double-breasted white jacket and growled, “Get in the van,” even as the vultures who’d been talking to him now turned their attention to her.
He scowled at her but got moving.
They drove away with photographers pointing their cameras and shooting. “What were you thinking?” she demanded, swerving to avoid one.
“I wasn’t thinking anything. I was just answering questions.”
“Well, thanks a lot,” she snapped.
He held out both hands. “What did you want me to do?”
“How about saying that Sterling Catering was not responsible for Samba Barrett’s illness?” she suggested, her voice rising.
“I can’t be sure of that,” Giorgio said sullenly.
“You’ve been working for me for six months now, Giorgio. You know how good I am. You could have said something.” Was there no loyalty in the world? She brushed away a tear.
“I told you, I’m only here until I get my break.”
“And I suppose that was it,” she said in disgust. “Getting your name in the paper as a caterer?”
