Page 47 of One Sweet Match Up

When he’d chased Zoe down Sheila’s hill in the snow, he never imagined that they’d spend the night enjoying a meal, getting to know each other over a bottle of wine, and her agreeing to give a business partnership with him a try. Not in a million years.

But that’s exactly what happened, and he was freakin’ excited to get this day started.

When the coin had landed on heads, he’d said a silent thank you to Mary. It’d been the perfect evening that ended up with the roads still not drivable.

They’d spent the rest of the night brainstorming combinations for soups and sandwiches. He had to hand it to Zoe. She knew exactly the kinds of meats and cheeses that would go well with his soup. Frozen yogurt might be her specialty, but he was beginning to think Zoe might be holding back her own culinary skills.

Maybe the past she seemed to not want to talk about involved working in a restaurant.

He shifted on the stool. That made her even more attractive to him. If that was even possible.

Yep. He was smitten by one Zoe Mathews.

The snow had fallen all night. They’d talked until the early morning hours, and then he’d offered her Rachel’s room.

The next morning, he’d made her another one of his signature omelettes before driving her to her car.

God, he loved snowstorms.

“What’s got you all smiles?” Betty set his breakfast plate in front of him.

His grin widened, and he grabbed his fork and dug in. “As a matter of fact, I’m starting a new job today. A new food venture.”

“Oh, really?” She leaned in. “Are you looking for a waitress with experience?”

He laughed. “I think we’re good for now. It’s going to be a la carte comfort food. I just hope we get the customers.” He looked around the empty Star Lite. If even the regulars weren’t coming into the well-known diner during this cold spell, would anyone come out to the Ice Heaven? “How’s business for you these days?”

“It’s tough right now. Dang weather. Probably won’t break fifty customers today.”

“Really?” Fifty wasn’t going to help him turn Zoe’s business around. He needed hundreds to flock in daily.

“Yeah. This winter’s been brutal. It’ll pick up eventually.” She placed her bony hand on the basketball jersey. “Say, I have an idea. You could give out some samples at the next high school basketball game. It’s a home game. That might help spread the word.”

Donovan sat up at that thought. “That’s a great idea.” Giving out free samples to a packed gymnasium was an awesome way to expose the town to his food as well as those out-of-town spectators who attended to cheer on the opposing team. “Who do I ask?”

“You’re looking at her. I man the concession stands.”

He arched an eyebrow. “You do?”

“Yeah, I’ve been doing it for the last five years with my sister, Helen.”

“Betty, you truly run this town.”

She scoffed. “Don’t say that too loud. Helen roped me into it years ago when her husband passed away. Come join us on Friday.” She paused. “Although, the team isn’t so hot this year. It’s not like when you played. We don’t even fill two rows of bleachers these days.”

His initial excitement died down. When he played, the team was pretty good. There wasn’t one game that didn’t bring down the house. “That’s a shame.”

“It sure is. These kids work so hard and love the game. If people would come and support them, I’m sure it would make all the difference. They might even win one. Their parents are there, but that’s about it.” She tilted her head. “If a former star player showed up, I’m sure the place would be packed.”

He laughed. He was a decent athlete, but basketball hadn’t been his life. When he wasn’t playing basketball, he was studying or in the kitchen. “I was hardly a star.”

“You are now. People would come from miles to meet culinary sensation Donovan Foster. Think about it,” Betty gave one final encouragement and then stepped away to greet an older couple who’d come in.

Donovan attacked his breakfast, letting Betty’s invitation marinate. It would be a nice opportunity to share samples from the menu, but would it make a difference if there wasn’t really anyone there? Sure, word of mouth was powerful, but he needed more mouths to try his soup.

He grabbed the jersey off the counter, unfolding it. Wearing it all those years ago had given him enormous pride. He’d loved playing, stepping onto center court with the town cheering him on. Those kids deserved to experience the same thrill. Maybe basketball hadn’t been his end game, but it taught him how to set, launch, and stick a goal, metaphorically speaking, with the basketball.

Was this why Mary left him the jersey? “Do you want me to help the team?” he asked out loud.

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