Personal chef Beau St. Clair, recently divorced from his cheating husband, returns to the small Ohio River town where he grew up to lick his wounds. Jack Rogers lives with his mother, Maisie, in that same small town, angry at and frightened by the world. Jack has a gap in his memory that hides something he dares not face, and he’s probably suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Maisie, seeking relief from her housebound and often surly son, hires Beau to cook for Jack, hoping the change might help bring Jack, once a handsome and vibrant attorney, back to his former self. But can a new face and comfort food compensate for the terror lurking in Jack’s past? Slowly the two men begin a dance of revelation and healing. Food and compassion build a bridge between Beau and Jack, a bridge that might lead to love. But will Jack’s demons allow it? His history could just as easily tear them apart as bring them together.

Dinner at Jack's

Anyway, I’m rambling, winging my way heedlessly down memory lane when this is supposed to be about a new beginning.


It had stopped raining. The Panorama looked even drearier in the washed-out light of late afternoon, damp and still dripping. A carton from McDonald’s skittered along the sidewalk in front of the row of doors, and I wondered if that’s what passed for room service in this dump.


Mary Beth. Sure, I had considered calling her, telling her I was coming. I knew she’d insist I stay with her and her high-school-sweetheart husband, Brad, and their adolescent daughter, Grace.


And maybe that’s why I resisted even letting her know I was coming. My little sister, the one who’d always looked up to me as almost a father stand-in, now had a better life than I did. More luck in love. Happy. Settled. The American dream.


Does it make me a shallow person to say I wondered if it would hurt to see their happiness, coming so soon after my own failure?


Chapter 8