Jack and Ginger (Sacred Heart Coven Book 3) (6 page)

"I think that is very smart. A lot of people let their ego get in the way of making smart choices. They think they know what they are doing and then six months later, wonder why they need to close their doors.

"I am no expert, but I love to cook and did spend some time on the line at one of the restaurants I worked at in college. If I can help in any way please let me know. I love research and food." Ginger took another sip of her mead.

"I could drink this all night, but I still have to drive home. I am going to need to take a rain check on finding another night for us to share drinks again."

"I would love that, and earlier in the evening. We can call a cab or have Steve drive you home if you need it. We are very serious about not driving while intoxicated."

"Same here. I have seen the damage that kind of indiscretion can make on a person and a community." Ginger yawned, "I am exhausted. I honestly don't remember the last time I was awake at this hour."

Jasinda grabbed the two glasses. And dumped the remainder of their drinks in the sink and rinsed them out. She was hoping she could get them in the dishwasher.

"So listen, I want you to get yourself a nice red candle tomorrow. Take a nice long hot bath or shower, burn the candle and use the salt scrub. It should only be used a few times a week. This one is all natural, so it should be pretty mild, but you don't want to damage you skin.

"I am going to call you tomorrow. Not in the morning, I might even give you a day before I call. I want to make sure you are ok," Jasinda told her.

"I am ok, I am actually better than ok. I am still a little embarrassed at my uncontrollable outburst, but it felt good to get it out. I am going to keep in touch and I am going to help you get this kitchen up and running. Even if I have to come in here and do it myself." Ginger laughed.

"Hmmm, now you have my wheels spinning, we will talk more." Jasinda walked around to the other side of the bar.

"Steve, come say goodnight. Did you pay the lady?" Jasinda asked him while she and Ginger walked toward the front entryway.

"Of course, we squared up when you were putzing around in the kitchen." Steve leaned forward on one foot and extended his arm. "It was a real pleasure working with you tonight."

"Thank you. It was great; I had fun and got to make a little extra cash. How could I go wrong?" Ginger shook his hand and then turned back to Jasinda and gave her a big hug. She whispered in her ear, "Thank you again for everything tonight."

Chapter Five
 

GINGER WAS GLAD THAT THE ride home was not far. She only had a few sips of the mead so that wasn't going to affect her capacity to drive. She knew she was tired, but until she got in the car, she didn't know how much so.
 

She pulled up and parked the car in her numbered spot. It was a little bit weird living in a development after so many years in a single-family house with a nice white fence and a professionally landscaped yard. She sighed.

She knew in some way the universe had its plan. She missed her father so much, but it seemed like in some ways his passing was his last gift to her. Had he not passed when he did she might still be living her life as a lie in an unhappy marriage.
 

Roger didn't waste any time serving her with the divorce papers. They were barely filling her dad's gravesite when she found out. Lucky for Ginger, her father's condo was paid off and he left it to her. Of course her father's doors would have been wide open to her, but knowing she had her own space to transition to at least made the blow from the divorce a little easier to bear.

Having a familiar place to go without having to worry about the what ifs and the how's of where she would go next reduced the anxiety that she assumed most women faced when they found themselves in a separation or divorce. It was a small two bedroom, but it was all she needed for the time being. Not to mention it was nice having the pool to enjoy and exercise in over the hot summer months.
 

Ginger took off her shoes and walked up to her second floor unit barefoot. Her feet were starting to throb. They were a bit angry with her for not letting them rest at all though the night. It had been a long time since she'd spent such an extended amount of time on her feet.
 

As she opened the door her stomach started to growl. She tossed her shoes in the bin next to the door and her keys into a small glass bowl that had belonged to her grandmother on the small console table by the door.

She looked around and still expected her dad to stroll down the hallway as if he was just in the bathroom or grabbing something from his room. Ginger knew she was going to need to get rid of a lot of his stuff; she just wasn't quite up for the task yet. She had purchased some cardboard boxes and promised herself she would start sorting things that could be donated versus saved or trashed.
 

It was late, but she needed to fill her belly. She flipped on her father's ancient looking PC on her way into the compact galley kitchen. She stuck her head in the fridge and pondered; what does someone eat at three in the morning. She hadn't slept so it didn't feel like it was time for breakfast, but she ate dinner almost eight hours ago. A fried egg sandwich had her taste buds going until she remembered the beefsteak tomato she had on the kitchen counter.

She grabbed the mayo and a head of lettuce before closing the refrigerator. She turned on the toaster oven and popped in an English muffin. The tomato was perfectly sliced by the time the timer went off. She stacked the tomato and lettuce between the two gooey toasted muffin tops.

She made a cup of hot tea and parked her caboose in front of the computer. She knew it wasn't her job or her business, but she was interested in looking up how to open a restaurant or kitchen. It had always been a dream of hers that she pushed off
 
to the side for Roger to pursue his hopes and dreams.
 

She took a bite of her sandwich and opened a new tab to search for the basics to running a commercial kitchen. Maybe she could put together a business plan for a small food service building. If nothing else it would be a good distraction for her until she found a job.

As she started to type it was like a giant light bulb went off over her head. Ginger wondered if this was meant to be her path. Why did she have to wait until she retired to have the career she always fantasized about? They always say that things happen for a reason and that you are where you are supposed to be. Maybe her being at the bar that night was the universe opening a door into a new career for her.
 

Ginger felt confident that she had the background to set a foundation for the understanding and knowledge of running a small restaurant. She knew she would have a lot to learn, but that was the easy part, implementing what she learns will be another thing.
 

Just as she was trying to figure out where the best place to start looking for what she wanted to know, a little icon popped up. It was a notification that someone left her father a message in something called the Bears Den.
 

Ginger wasn't sure what social media site it was from. Quite frankly she was surprised that her dad was on social media. He was pretty old-school in most of his ways.

Jack: Pre-season is almost over are you ready for opening day?

The message was from a guy named Jack. There was no last name, or first name for that matter. Ginger laughed to herself and wondered if she thought he was too cool to have two names. Maybe he would soon just be the guy formerly known as Jack and go by way of a symbol instead.
 

Who knew her old man was so tech savvy? She shook her head and smiled at the thought of him sitting on the computer in a chat room. She didn't know what to do. She didn't have the energy left to try and explain that her father had passed.

On the flip side she also didn't want to be rude and not answer him. As if he would know that she was sitting in front of the computer reading his message. Then again maybe it showed that it was read on his end.
 

She took a bite of her sandwich and some of the wet seedy mess from the center of the tomato squirted out of the back of the sandwich and landed on the keyboard. "Oh crap!"
 

Ginger jumped up and ran to get some paper towels to clean the mess. Not thinking about what would happen when she wiped the tomato bits up she heard the computer make a blip sound at her.
 

 
"Oh, for heaven's sake. What did I do?" Ginger looked at the mess she made, and it had nothing to do with her sandwich. She looked at the computer screen and saw that she responded to the message from Jack with a bunch of gibberish.
 

Jack: ??? Art, are you ok man???

Ginger's stomach dropped She stood there staring at the screen hoping it would disappear, or that he would write back and say he had to go. Too bad the complete opposite was becoming the reality.
 

Jack: Dude, this isn't funny. I know you have been having trouble with your heart. I know you don't have a cat walking across that key board. If you don't answer me I will call 911 and have them contact your local emergency services.
 

Ginger panicked and sat down and started to type before she even thought about what she would say.

Art: Sorry about that, I spilled some food on my keyboard. I was cleaning it before it seeped in-between the keys. I'm ok.

What the heck is wrong with me? I am not my dad, and he is the furthest thing from ok.
 

Ginger rested her elbow on the desk and pressed her forehead to her hand rubbing her brow with the pads of her first three fingers. She couldn't for the life of her figure out why she just pretended to be her dad.

Jack: So the Bills, not the most exciting of season openers.
 

Art: Depends on which way you look at it Jack. The first game of the year always sets the tone for the season. The Bills may be the forgotten team, but they did pick up some new potential during the draft.

Jack: Well you know we will be sitting on the edge of our seats no matter who they are playing.

Art: I don't need nail clippers during football season. I can't help but chew mine down to little nubs.

Jack: Ha-ha, that's funny. I wind up eating junk food. I try to keep it to popcorn, but when we are at the game I have to have Cracker Jacks and hot dogs. I wish the San Fran game was at home. That is going to be an exciting game.

Art: Totally, but that's why the Bills game is so important for the Bears. If they win that, which they should be winning all home games anyway, then they can march into that brand new stadium like they own the place. The San Francisco fans are going to be extra pumped up. That energy will be pulsing through the city long before the Bears land in Cali.

Jack: Speaking of landing did you order your tickets yet?

Ginger froze. Her dad hadn't mentioned any tickets? People need tickets for a lot of things. As far as she knew her dad had not purchased any game tickets. They had talked about trying to go to Chicago one day to go to a game together. Roger would have never allowed it.
 

She wondered if she should dare ask him? Would it give it away that she wasn't Art? What else could she say...no?

Jack: You did book your flight?

Art: Actually some things have come up and I have not had a chance to do much of anything all summer.

That wasn't altogether not the truth. Ginger found it odd that her father had some kind of a trip planned that he didn't mention to her. It wasn't like it was for work; he had retired before he moved east to be closer to her.

Jack: Art you're killing me over here. I was able to reserve the box for the game. Are you going to order your ticket? The prices are going to get more expensive the longer you wait. I know I should have reached out to you over the summer, but I was away for work a few times.

Art: Box seats sound badass. My health has taken a turn for the worse to be honest with you, it doesn't look like I will be able to make it.

Jack: So I guess you didn't tell your daughter either. I know you were hoping to bring her to Chicago with you.
 

Chicago, Ginger thought. Her dad was planning a trip to Soldier Field. But, who is this guy Jack?
 

Walking into that stadium with her dad was a dream they both shared for quite some time. The sting of the situation never being able to become a reality forced the tears to start leaking from the corners of her eyes.
 

She took a deep breath and tried blinking her eyes wide open to force them to stop. The saltiness burned her already tired eyes. She looked through her flooded eyes at her uneaten sandwich and cold cup of tea. She needed to get to sleep.
 

Art: You know Jack I didn't even have the opportunity to tell her. It is probably best I didn't. She would have been upset if I couldn't go.

Jack: Well if anything changes I will hold onto to your tickets. Let's catch up soon.

Art: She will get there one day. It is really late, I better get some sleep. Talk tomorrow...

Ginger should have left well enough alone. Why did she leave an open invitation for them to talk again tomorrow? She should tell him that he is going to turn his internet off or something so he doesn't expect to hear from her father again instead she set herself up to continue the charade.

It did feel really good to talk football for a few minutes. It was something that she had a lot of passion for, and her father was the only person she ever got to talk to about it. Other than a few random guys that might have been sitting at the bar with them watching a game.
 

Ginger shut the computer down and cleaned up her late night snack. She kind of lost her appetite, that and she was really too tired to eat. Tomorrow would be a new day.
 

Chapter Six
 

GINGER GOT INTO BED HOPING that she would be able to pass right out. Her body was in
 
overdrive and her mind was rolling like watching a movie fuzzed out on fast-forward.