Seven Days Destinations Read online

  Seven Days Destinations

  a Seven Days novel

  Ruth Hay

  www.ruthhay.com

  Contents

  Introduction

  Seven Days With Jillian

  About This Book

  1. Chapter One

  2. Chapter Two

  3. Chapter Three

  4. Chapter Four

  5. Chapter Five

  6. Chapter Six

  7. Chapter Seven

  Seven Days With Zoe

  About This Book

  1. Chapter One

  2. Chapter Two

  3. Chapter Three

  4. Chapter Four

  5. Chapter Five

  6. Chapter Six

  7. Chapter Seven

  Also by Ruth Hay

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Introduction

  Jillian and Zoe are two of the outstanding women in this series. Each deserved a shorter book of their own to complete their life stories. These two books Seven Days With Jillian and Seven Days With Zoe are here under one title - Seven Days Destinations.

  * * *

  The Seven Days Series

  Seven Days There

  Seven Days Back

  Seven Days Beyond

  Seven Days Away

  Seven Days Horizons

  Seven Days Destinations

  Seven Days With Jillian

  About This Book

  So much has happened in the Beck family since the incredible week in Mexico.

  Back in Canada, Jillian must take stock, appreciate her new start, and plan the futures of her husband and their three children.

  Easy? Not so much!

  Nothing happens unless first a dream.

  Carl Sandburg.

  Chapter One

  Monday.

  There were times when Jillian Beck wondered why she had a house at all.

  If it had been possible to find a corner in the restaurant for a bed where she and Terry could sleep, she would be happy. Trailing home at night to an empty house in the suburbs of Toronto seemed hardly worth the trouble. By the time they got there it was all they could do to collapse into bed.

  An attempt was made for an hour of normal life relaxing in front of the television but, inevitably, Terry fell asleep and she had to shake him awake to get him to bed.

  She often said the one good thing was the kitchen stayed spotlessly clean. Neither of them had any inclination to cook at night so they ate at the restaurant before they drove home.

  Their lives revolved around Beckoning Cuisine and there wasn’t much they could do about it.

  “Victims of success!” Terry called them. ”It’s verging on criminal to complain when restaurants in Toronto are opening and closing within months.”

  It was a highly competitive environment and required a tremendous amount of energy to survive. Terry said their partnership was the key to their survival. Jillian knew he was right.

  Her expertise with ‘front of house’ and with serving staff allowed her husband to concentrate on the kitchen, his workers inside there, and the dishes created by Terry’s Team.

  Everyone in the catering business acknowledged the importance of good ingredients. It was what Terry achieved with those fresh ingredients that made all the difference. His signature dishes varied with the season but he had an expert way of mixing up the contents in a new style, or adding spices, herbs or sauces that made the ordinary, extraordinary.

  Their sous-chef, Juan, was a plating genius. He was an artist with food. When a plate left his station in the hands of a waitress, it was not unusual for patrons to comment as it passed by. Taking photos of Juan’s masterpieces was a common event.

  “Good advertising!” was Jillian’s conclusion. She truly admired her husband’s culinary skills but she wished he would lose the red kerchief he wore around his neck. Terry claimed it was his good luck charm. Jillian thought it was more like something worn by big, slobbery dogs. As it was about the only thing they disagreed on these days, she decided to give up on her campaign against what she had called ‘an eyesore’ and she contented herself with filling the spare drawer in his kitchen desk with a variety of discreetly-coloured alternatives in hopes he would accidently pick one up some day and be pleased enough with the general reaction to make a change.

  Neck scarves aside, they were united in their main desire to keep the family business, and the family itself, intact.

  The once-weekly family meal in the restaurant had evolved into a bi-monthly event. It was still held late on a Monday evening but these days it was not unusual for Jillian to see a restaurant reservation made by a family member in the intervening time.

  Devon had treated several prospective investors to a meal at B.C. and it always helped consolidate their support when the chef emerged in his immaculate whites to converse with the young entrepreneur who just happened to share his last name. No one was more surprised than his parents to see how Devon had grown in stature and influence since what they laughingly referred to as ‘his basement nights and days’.

  Firmly established as a Toronto new-tech whiz, Devon looked and sounded like the business icon he was becoming. Gone were the sloppy old sweats and the rocker T shirts. Now he dressed in designer jeans and his work attire included the latest shirt styles and patterns. He had not gone as far as to don a tie, as yet, but his mother had hopes that one of the beautiful, boxed examples she showered on him for birthdays and Christmas, would finally wear him down. Father and son were equally resistant in that respect. Jillian wondered if they conspired against her. She had not yet proved it.

  When it came to hair stylings, however, she refrained from comments. She never knew what she would see on Devon’s head from one visit to the next. Johnny D., one of Devon’s original crew and now part of the third floor innovators, had a girlfriend who worked in a premier hair salon downtown. Johnny D. was her at-home experiment victim. He got the first of the emerging styles, swiftly copied by the rest of the guys. Currently, Devon was sporting shaved back and sides with the symbol of a lightning bolt incised above his ear. Fortunately, for Jillian, his copious brown thatch still existed on the top of his head but she recognized that was likely temporary, as the similar hair stylings were a matter of pride among them and a badge of their continued close friendship. The older inhabitants of the Tech Hub just shook their heads when they saw the latest hair style but, like Jillian, they were secretly proud of the evident creativity of their young up-and-comers.

  Devon showed no signs, however, of following in Johnny D.’s footsteps and acquiring a girlfriend. Younger daughter, Louise was the first of Jillian and Terry’s brood to advance in that particular direction.

  Her romance with Jason Schuster had progressed slowly and steadily, for which her mother was very grateful. There were too many stories of young girls marrying early and regretting their decision all too quickly. Jillian felt Louise was a sensitive soul who needed gentle handling. Her mothering instincts were based on the knowledge of her daughter’s unexpected arrival in the family, and the reluctance of Terrence Beck to reconcile himself to her existence during the entire pregnancy. Jillian had felt his disapproval keenly and she concluded the tiny life within her must also have been affected. Terry’s later fondness for his Lulu never quite made up for his earlier neglect, in Jillian’s eyes. It was something they never spoke about.

  Jason Schuster treated Louise well on any occasions when her mother saw them together. Jason was now welcomed at family meals and Terrence enjoyed, both his sense of humour and his knowledge of Toronto’s architectural heritage. The two men got along well together which Jillian took as a good sign.

  From time to time, Jillian Beck wished for a grandchild a
nd Louise was her best bet so far. Hints had been dropped, including the most persuasive one about providing a great-grandchild for Marian Beck.

  Her heart attack had caused the whole family to face the inevitable decline of the oldest members and to value the time left with them.

  A new generation was a gift Aylward and Marian would see as evidence their line would continue into the future. For herself, it would be enough if a wedding were to be scheduled in the near future but another Christmas and New Year’s had passed without the appearance of a ring on Louise’s finger.

  She knew the couple were busy establishing their careers. Perhaps a wedding, not to mention a child, was far in the future.

  Jillian sighed. She hoped they would not wait too long.

  * * *

  “Time for your inspection, Mrs. Beck! We have the new napkins in place today and the bud vases have that nice-smelling freesia you chose, with a sprig of rosemary to balance the scents.”

  “Excellent, Chris! I’ll do the rounds as soon as I check in with Chef. We have a busy day ahead. Alert everyone to be on top form. I expect substantial tips to be forthcoming.”

  Chris went off with a beaming smile on his face. Jillian headed to the serving bar for her ritual two minutes with Terry. It set the tone for the restaurant when the two Becks were of one mind. It was just another indicator of their success. She would not share the prior musings of her mind but say encouraging remarks about the good smells emerging from the kitchen and how bright and welcoming the restaurant looked this morning. She would end with a private word in his ear and a kiss on his cheek to seal the day.

  With no family meal this evening she was hoping they might set off for home earlier than usual. It was time for some serious talk about their future. Ploughing through the snow from the suburbs for another winter downtown was something she really had no taste for. She understood living closer to the restaurant was highly unlikely as the prices of even the smallest accommodations in the centre of Toronto were ridiculously expensive. She thought of the spacious, fabulous condominium apartment Marian and Aylward had moved into after her heart attack. Their mansion in Forest Hill had sold for over twelve million dollars which certainly made the new purchase simple. There was no fortune awaiting Terry and Jillian Beck, however. Their modest family home was bereft of the updates that new owners seemed to demand. With three children to raise and no time to spare from their own jobs, both with conflicting schedules, a suitable time for renovations never arrived.

  Another problem arose when she considered her unwarranted discontent with the current situation. Despite all her complaints, one thing remained clear. It was her father-in-law’s brilliant idea to suggest she leave her grocery store manager’s job and work with Terry in the restaurant that had put their marriage back together and formed a bond she was in no way willing to risk.

  Jillian Beck sighed, and watched as her handsome husband walked toward her. Life was never perfect.

  She had more now than she ever could have imagined just a few years ago. Possibly, the miles of frustrating travel between here and home were the price she had to pay.

  Devon Beck arrived at the Tech Hub with his cousin Portia. Since the building was new to the city core and had levels below ground of dedicated parking, it was the work of only a moment to step into an elevator and be whisked upward to light and space and a work environment that was the envy of everyone who entered the building.

  He bade farewell to Portia and watched her walk confidently toward the Arts section where she was now a valued member of the group. He probably need no longer give her a ride to work. It had started when Portia complained of unwanted male attention on the subway line. She was much recovered from her horrible deep depression resulting from a sexual attack in her former workplace, but she was a sensitive artistic type and no one in the family wanted to see her regress, especially not his grandfather. Aylward Beck’s wishes in this and all matters had to be given serious consideration. Had it not been for his financial support, Devon would never have obtained a job in this high-tech workplace. Aylward’s appreciation of his skills and his encouragement had made his life something he could only have dreamed of in his years as ‘boy in the basement’ at home.

  He knew his ability to keep an eye on Portia was a type of payback for that support and he was glad to be able to pass on the help given to him. Not that Portia needed much more than the ride to and from work. She had blossomed like the tropical flowers she loved to paint. Having young people of a similar mind around her had given her permission to be the creative artist she was meant to be. Her textile work was greatly admired and her brilliant edge-to-edge paintings, which Devon had first introduced to the building, were commented on regularly, to her great delight.

  He and Portia had a regularly-scheduled meeting time in his advertising and promotions department. Afterward, he usually passed on a report to his grandfather. These reports were increasingly positive and that pleased Devon just as much as it pleased his grandfather.

  Today’s work was already set out on his desk beside the range of computers he accessed for design work. He was glad there was no family meal tonight at the restaurant. He had a date later with a talented and gorgeous woman he had met through work. She was part of a coterie of skilled men and women who did the preparation and set-up work for the American film companies that preferred to shoot their TV series and movies in Canada.

  He met Lucy when he was asked to visit the huge warehouses on the waterfront where the green-screen backgrounds were created. Lucy was to be a part of a promotional documentary showing how the real costumes and settings were blended into the digitally-produced elements. She had been asked to escort him around her studio and point out locations that might be suitable for his production of the short clips to be shown on local TV channels as advanced promos, before the full documentary was completed.

  Lucy was bright, dark-haired and attractive in a ‘stay back unless you are a professional’ kind of way. He found this attitude a challenge and had asked her out to a new coffee bar in the guise of establishing a more in-depth insight into her work.

  To his surprise she agreed and asked him to pick her up at her grandparents’ place where she lived when in Toronto. She had a shared pad in Vancouver when she worked for the big studios on the west coast but her home-base was in nearby London, Ontario, where her mother and sister ran a popular fashion clothing store. It all sounded intriguing to Devon and he was sure an interesting evening was ahead.

  He was especially reassured by the knowledge this lovely Lucy would be in Toronto for work from time to time. He was not anxious for anything serious at the moment, but it was always best to look ahead to the future. This was not, he mentally underscored, not news to be shared with his mother. That lady jumped to embarrassing conclusions with amazing speed.

  Meantime, there was a problem with a design fault in a colleague’s billboard ad that had to be tackled immediately or the client threatened to withdraw his monthly payment. It was all hands on deck when issues arose. The tech guys worked as a team. It was their greatest strength. The pleasant thoughts of his evening with Lucy would have to wait.

  Louise Beck gently moved Jason Schuster’s leg from her thighs. He was a deep sleeper and she knew he was not going to roll over any time soon. She moved to the edge of the bed and sat up rubbing her thigh muscles to get the circulation moving again. He was a darling man and she loved sharing an apartment with him but a girl sometimes wanted to spread out across her bed and just sprawl all night. There was the occasional thought that living and working with the same man could at times be too much but, on the whole, her relationship with Jason had brought only good things to her life ever since she literally backed into him at the bus stop one winter morning.

  She reached for her robe and turned to see if he had moved over into the warm spot she had vacated. No, he was like a dead thing when he was sleeping. It would take an earthquake to move him.

  She rearranged the bed covers s
o as to protect his exposed shoulders and smiled at his long, dark eyelashes resting on his cheeks. He really had the best lashes ever; the envy of all her friends although they never saw the true beauty of them behind his spectacles. In a way, that was true of a lot of things about Jason Schuster. It had taken her months to uncover his best attributes despite an immediate attraction. Now she knew him as an intelligent man, an architect who worked at his family firm but never took advantage of his connections. He was generous to a fault when she needed his help in the first months of her employment there, and eager to sing her praises to her boss when she had completed something laudable. He had a good sense of humour but never poked fun at others and he saw only admirable traits in her family members. So much had he impressed her father ( not by any means an easy thing to do as ‘his Lulu’ was always special to Terrence Beck), that he had an open invitation to join the family meal at the restaurant. Jason was wise enough at the beginning to listen and observe and his later analysis of her siblings’ interactions showed real understanding of their complex family dynamics. When he felt more secure, he revealed his humorous bent by making occasional astute comments that caused a ripple of astonished, appreciative laughter around the table.

  Her mother thought highly of Louise’s partner and made it known to her that she approved of him as a future son-in-law. Fortunately, this information was shared in private and Louise’s blushes were not seen by anyone other than her mother, to whom she gave a brief lecture on the danger of interfering.

  Louise had no intention of rocking the very satisfactory boat which she shared with Jason. There would be plenty of time for more serious developments when she had secured her place in the architectural company on her own merits. For now, she was happy, lucky and content. She knew how much those rare qualities were highly prized among her friends who were all still striving to achieve any one of these assets in their own fragile relationships.