Yawning, Joey shifted on the chair, sighing contently as the warm coffee started to work its magic on her grumpy early morning personality. Her slowly awakening eyes scanned the page of her opened filofax, a personal organizer, that wasn’t one of the more common Franklin planners. A remnant of her life in Boston and a daily reminder of what happened. Another hectic day awaited her and that prospect didn’t do anything to cheer her up.

It was still dark outside and the B&B was perfectly quiet. Although it meant getting up at ungodly hours, even before dawn, she enjoyed the peaceful silence of the house. It was the only leisure time she would have until she fell into her bed again sometime late at night. Plus she gained the advantage of being able to sit at the dining table, simply cuddled into her favorite long-sleeved flannel pajama, without risking to be caught by any of their guests.

"No breakfast again?" Bessie asked quietly as she glanced at her sister’s stinted display of the first meal of the day.

"You know that I don’t really like an opulent breakfast. Good morning to you, too, Bess." Joey lifted her eyes towards her sister. She hadn’t notice her approach until she started to speak, but she was too tired to be startled.

"And I recall how much you used to love pancakes for breakfast." Bessie pulled the chair next to Joey’s back and sat down, still examining her.

"Yeah... that was a long time ago. Why are you so fixed on my breakfast anyway?" sighing Joey placed her mug back on the table.

"It’s not healthy to leave the house without a good and nutritious breakfast. And don’t tell me you would eat at the restaurant, because you don’t. At least not a real meal."

"God, Bessie. Are you listening to yourself? I’m not a baby. You don’t even go after Alex like you go after me." Joey complained annoyed. There went her last peaceful moments.

"Right, because my seven year old son shows much more common-sense when it comes to food. You’re tired all the time, you don’t eat or sleep enough... you’re..."

"I’m just busy, okay? I have a lot things to do and... I don’t want to have such a discussion with you, not this early in the morning... or at any other time." Joey snapped and closed her filofax forcefully.

"You’re not helping matters with this unconsidered exhaustion of yourself and your health. I know that the restaurant is a lot of work and that it’s not easy for you... or for any of us, but you have to take care of yourself." Bessie tried to get her point through.

"Look, I’m not complaining, am I? I’m dealing with everything on my own way, just like you do. And if you’ll excuse me now, I have to take care of myself and make me presentable so that I can go to work, okay?" pushing her chair backwards Joey stood up and left in the general direction of the bathroom. The black filofax stubbornly clamped under her arm.

~*~

The light snow had stopped but the wind blew icily from the river and caused Pacey to shiver as he got out of his car. Buttoning up his black leather jacket and adjusting his scarf, he leaned back against the car, taking in the scenery.

The grayish white snow-clouds started to open up and the February sky revealed tiny patches of blue for the first time in days.

The restaurant inhabited a perfect spot on Water Street, overlooking the river and the landmark bridge. He could imagine how the business had to be buzzing during the season. Of course, at this time of year, the terrace was deserted, nevertheless they stayed open. Again a sign that it was well situated and frequented by local patrons as well as by tourists.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered being in Capeside before. Probably he had visited in one of the summer breaks, when they had first started to drive around aimlessly, just cruising to spend time away from home. All those tourist spots became a blurry collection of the same images. Sunshine, laughter, carefree times, the scent of the sea close by wafting through the air.

He had missed this in Boston. Life had been good, but there has always been something that was missing. And now, under the given circumstances, he looked forward to returning home, well, not exactly home, but close, very close. Just the few minutes he had been in this town gave him a good feeling. If things worked out like he hoped, this could very well be much better than what he used to call home.

Checking his watch Pacey took a deep breath and pushed himself off the car. It was time to face the music. He hated job interviews, mainly because he wasn’t used to them. Somehow things had just worked out or happened to him in the past and this was actually his first real interview ever.

Finding the small ad in the newspaper was a miracle in itself and if he believed in miracles or fate, this would have been one indeed. It was simple, right to the point, but still it had jumped at him and now he was there. Two minutes before his appointment with the manager of the restaurant, or rather the owner.

Pacey straightened unconsciously and walked up to the entry. The whole building was made of wood and looked old, although it couldn’t have been older than a view years. Maybe they had renovated, but managed to keep its warm atmosphere. Taking another deep breath he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

His eyes quickly darted around, trying to catch as much as he could, glancing at the interior, the decoration. As superficial as it was, it was always the first impression that decided about a hit or miss. He tried to look through a patron’s eyes as well as through his own, being a possible chef at this restaurant. And the Icehouse was definitely a hit at first sight.

Like the ad it was simple but elegant in it’s own way. A typical New England bar and restaurant, nautical themes were everywhere, but the decoration wasn’t too much and didn’t seemed to be forced in any way. Dark wooden furniture, fresh flowers, everything tidy. A nice bar area, a TV set in the corner, cozy lightening... all in all a very friendly atmosphere and a place were you would love to spend the one or the other hour or more.

It was 11:30 am and even though it was open for lunch and opened for guests at 11am, it was quiet. Two older man were sitting at a table right next to the entrance and a bartender was arranging glasses at the bar from which Pacey could peek into the kitchen. A see-through-open area was cleverly incorporated so that you had a feeling of openness without bothering the guests with the hectic kitchen actions.

Pacey smiled and nodded to himself. This place was definitely interesting. He walked over to the bar and cleared his throat to make his presence known, since the bartender had his back turned toward him.

~*~

As he heard someone behind him, Eddie tilted his head to glance over his shoulder while putting a glass into its right spot. "Can I help you, sir?"

"Umm, yeah. I’ve got an appointment with the owner, umm... Joey Potter?" Pacey explained and watched the barkeeper closely.

"Ah, you’re here for the chef position, right?" Eddie stated more than asking.

"Yes." Pacey wondered if this man before him would be the restaurant’s owner.

"Yeah, I thought so. The office is down the hall, first door to your right." Eddie pointed to the side of the dining room. "Just go ahead, you’re being expected already."

"Okay, thank you." Pacey nodded and quickly ran his hand over his trimmed beard. The first question was answered. This man wasn’t the owner.

The last sentence was worrying him a little though. He didn’t know what to think about the fact that he was already expected. He wasn’t late, he was a few minutes early actually. As he walked towards the office he felt the eyes of the bartender on his back. Being the possible new kid in town didn’t get funnier when being an adult.

Closing his eyes briefly and putting on his most winning, but not too big, smile, Pacey knocked at the office door and waited almost anxiously for a response.

Roughly a heartbeat later he heard a muffled voice, "Come in." A voice that seemed to be female, but he shrugged it off. Maybe it was better to stop the guessing game he had running since he wrote the email to make an appointment for this interview.

Straightening once more, Pacey reached for the doorknob and opened the door. The room was rather small and you could survey it with a single glance.

To the left there were a slim wardrobe, or rather several hooks at the wall standing in for a wardrobe. To the right, along the wall to the hall, an old-fashioned diner-style bench, sporting a worn out reddish-brown color and a small side table reminded one of a sitting area, although it did look cozy. Directly opposite of the bench sat a writing desk and chair and in the corner, facing the door, a sideboard held several files and books. The walls were covered with hundreds of post-it notes, posters, postcards and a staff schedule. Through the window on the right, soft rays of sunlight brightened the room and created a faint glow around the person sitting at the desk.

A female person to be exact. Not knowing what to do, since she was still busy with writing something down, Pacey cleared his throat as he closed the door behind him.

"One second. I’m almost finished here." The woman raised her left hand, motioning for him to stay and wait while she kept her eyes trained on the task at hand.

"Sure." Pacey stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and studied the postcards on the wall next to the wardrobe. New York, Los Angeles, Miami Beach, Boston and the Eiffel Tower. Either someone loved to travel or someone had friends who explored the world.

Putting her pen down, Joey moved around in her swivel chair and frowned momentarily as she realized what her visitor was looking at. Those postcards were from another lifetime or it felt like that to her at least. They were only still there because she kept forgetting to remove them.

"I’m sorry for keeping you waiting. I just wanted to finish that order before I forgot what I was ordering there anyway." Joey explained and stepped closer to the man, waiting for him to turn around.

"Nah, it’s fine. I was a little early anyway." Pacey smiled and extended his hand to greet her properly. Now that he could see her clearly he had to swallow and fight against the urge to rub his eyes. She was simply stunning and this fact didn’t help him, but added to his nervousness instead.

"Thank you. Well, good morning, Mr. Witter?" Joey returned his smile while accepting his hand.

"Yes, good morning..." Pacey answered her masked question, "...umm, I have an appointment with Mr. Potter." The second the words left his mouth, he cringed already because of them. If she knew his name, she most certainly knew why he was there.

Joey stared at him for a moment before a small smile found its way to her face. It wasn’t the first time and probably not the last time either that people thought Joey Potter was a man. She had lost count of that wrong assumption even before she knew how to count.

"Well, that’s too bad, because we don’t have a Mr. Potter here." She couldn’t help her smile from growing as she saw the slight shock in his eyes.

Eyes had always fascinated her. A long time ago her mother had told her that eyes were the windows of the soul. Ever since then she studied the eyes of the people she met. His eyes were blue with a little bit of green thrown in.

"Huh?" Pacey frowned and eyed her warily. He was a little confused to put it mildly. The bartender had sent him in there. Why did this woman tell him that there was no Mr. Potter?

"Joey Potter, that’s me." Joey explained still smiling. "Sorry for the misunderstanding. Why don’t you take a seat upon this shock? This bench is much more comfortable than it looks like," pointing towards the diner bench, Joey stepped back and sank back down into her chair.

"Oh... yeah, I’m sure it is." Pacey’s eyes widened for a split second. He needed some seconds to digest this new information and he was grateful for the momentarily distraction as he sat down on the bench.

Joey Potter was a woman, a young, attractive woman, who couldn’t be older than himself, which meant something around her mid-twenties. This was certainly not something he had expected as he applied for the job.

Joey grabbed a thin folder from her desk before turning towards Pacey again. She felt him watching her, which caused her heart to beat a little faster. There had never been a time when she didn’t feel uncomfortable with any attention that was directed at her.

"Well, umm... first of all I’d like to thank you for your interest in this position, Mr. Witter." Joey tried to ease into the job interview. Although she had gone to a few before she felt still a little weird asking all those questions.

Pacey watched her nervously pushing a strand of her long brown hair behind her ear. It was just a small gesture, but cute. Maybe it wasn’t the most brilliant idea to think about his possible new boss as cute, especially not during the interview, but her action calmed him in a strange way. Probably it showed him that she was nervous, too.

"Umm, it might not be very conventional, but... just call me Pacey. Mr. Witter is the title that refers to my father from my point of view." Pacey silently scolded himself for this bold move as he saw her skeptically raising one brow, only to relax again as another lopsided smile grazed her face.

"Okay, Pacey." Joey paused, trying to remember if she had ever heard this name before. She was sure she hadn’t. It was a strange name, unique, interesting even. Forcing herself to return to the mere professional reason of their meeting she scanned the notes in his file. "From your application I can see that you’ve worked in Boston for a few years... at the Civilization?"

"Yes. A little more than four years actually. I started there in fall 2001." Although they were only going through information he had already provided in his application, Pacey appreciated her way to start a conversation. Repeating information just for the cause of getting comfortable with talking to each other.

"And you’re holding Culinary Arts A.S. degree from BHCC." Joey stated and looked up, making direct eye contact with Pacey.

"Yes. I started with learning by hands on at the Civilization and after a while Danny Brecher, the owner suggested that I should enroll at the Culinary Arts program at BHCC. I was lucky that I could do both things at the same time.

"That must have been difficult, studying and working... both full time." Joey tilted her head, still keeping her eyes on him but remembering her own college time and how she had freaked with reconciling her studies and a simple part time job.

"It was okay. Danny was very accommodating and I could arrange my schedule at Civilization pretty flexible." Pacey felt himself relax more and more while he studied her face. She was a little pale, tired maybe, but held a natural beauty you couldn’t evade.

"I think I’ve been to the Civilization once when I was studying in Boston. It’s one of the hip restaurants there and a very good one at that. Why did you quit working there?" Joey asked, playing with her pen to keep her hands occupied. She wasn’t as nervous as before, but still she needed something to hold on to.

"Well, I....umm, I didn’t really quit. Danny decided to sell the restaurant for personal reasons and the new management and I..." Pacey cleared his throat before adding, " we didn’t really see eye to eye on several things and decided to part ways on amicable terms." He knew that this didn’t sound too convincing. Of course this could very well bite him in the ass, not only here but in any restaurant he might apply for a job from now on. For the hundredth time he regretted deeply what happened back then.

"I see. Such changes can be difficult and sometimes there are irreconcilable differences. But what brought you here? The Icehouse can’t really compete with an upscale restaurant in Boston."

"I wouldn’t say that. What is considered to be hip and upscale today is gone tomorrow just as fast as it emerged, while really good things last, even if you didn’t pay much attention to them."

Joey uncrossed her legs to change her position and smiled faintly. "You might have a point there. Still, Capeside is not Boston and the Icehouse is pretty much a family operated business. I’m emphasizing this, because your working condition will most likely be different... and the same goes for the salary."

"Maybe. But I left Boston on purpose, in a way to go back to my roots actually. I was born on the Cape and grew up here. As much as I wanted to leave and see the world I missed it." Pacey admitted openly. It was true, he had missed living so close to the sea and in a city where people really knew each other. He did not miss life in New Raleigh per se, but the essence of it. He waited for any reply but when he didn’t get one, he decided to turn the table around. "You studied in Boston?"

Joey listened to his answer. The contact address he had provided in his application was in New Raleigh, which was about thirty or forty minutes from Capeside. She had never been there but knew that it was a small coastal town as well. It was interesting, both of them were raised at the Cape, had left for the Boston only to return a few years later. Only that he came back on his own decision, while she didn’t have a chance.

Her train of thoughts left her side tracked and she barely heard the question he was posing. "Oh, yeah. I did. Worthington."

"Impressive. It’s an excellent school... from what I’ve heard at least." Pacey smiled.

"It is." Joey crossed her arms in front of her chest. She didn’t know how the interviewing Pacey changed into her being questioned by him. "Well, as I said before, working here would be different. We’re open seven days a week for lunch and dinner, which means our hours are long. Eleven to eleven to be exact. Your position would be head cook, meaning you would be responsible for dinner. So your shift would be from three p.m. to closing time. And we can’t afford more than..." Joey rambled but was suddenly interrupted by Pacey.

"Before we talk about money... I’d really like to take a look at your kitchen if that’s possible. You know, money is important, sure, but it’s not the number one. I love cooking and the kitchen is my place of work and that’s what’s important to me."

For a moment Joey was taken aback by his request, but in a positive way. There had been four other candidates before Pacey, but their first question had always been about their salary.

"Of course. We can go on the grand tour right now if you’d like to?" Joey suggested.

"Definitely."

"Okay, then let’s go." Joey stood up and aimed for the door, but Pacey was faster and opened it for her. She couldn’t remember the last time somebody held a door for her. Chances were nobody had before.

~*~

"So what do you think of our humble eating establishment?" Joey asked after they sat down at a window table.

"I think that you have no reason to call it humble. The Icehouse is nice, cozy restaurant. Not swanky or anything and I like that a lot. Your kitchen is well organized and pretty up to date with everything a cook might need. Did you renovate lately?" Pacey slowly sipped the cappuccino Joey had ordered for them. He was really impressed with the equipment he found, not to mention that he liked the whole package a lot. It would be the perfect fresh start.

Avoiding his questioning glance, Joey gazed out of the window, running her fingertip absent mindedly along the rim of her cup. Her mind drifted back, replaying the fire that destroyed the old Icehouse, the endless quarrels with the insurance company, the rare and mostly disappointing appearances her father had made, the fun times they had, tears and laughter, the grand re-opening and the most recent and most hurting incidents.

A deep sigh escaped her lips, causing Pacey to frown as he tried to decipher her facial expression. A myriad of emotions were displayed in the few seconds that had passed since his question.

"I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?" he asked concerned.

"No, no you didn’t. I’m sorry. I was just thinking..." Joey shook her head, turning her eyes back to Pacey and pressed her lips together. Another second passed in which she felt his intense and even concerned eyes boring into hers. Clearing her throat she finally answered. "We re-opened last summer after the first Icehouse burnt down in 1999. And when we were finally able to rebuilt, well, we tried to get the best we could."

Pacey knew that he had accidentally touched a very sensitive topic, even before Joey confirmed it with her answer. He sensed that there was more to it, but didn’t want to press on any further details. "I’m sorry, but if it helps in any way, you did a fantastic job with the new restaurant."

"Thank you. So, what do you think? Would you like to work here?" Joey asked, trying to change the subject back to business.

"I’d love to." Pacey smiled. "If you want me, that is." Joey’s eyes widened slightly and her lips slowly curved into a smile, making Pacey cringe for the second time in a little more than an hour. "I mean, if you’d consider to employ me."

"Well, you have great references, you like our restaurant and you didn’t turn your heel when I told you about your salary. I think you’d be the perfect addition to the Icehouse team."

"Then it’s a deal." Pacey offered his hand to shake on it and Joey accepted with another smile.

Every now and then Eddie tried to catch a glimpse at Joey and the man who applied for the cook’s position. It astounded him that he saw her smiling each time he peeked on them. It looked good on her, something he hadn’t seen before.

"Deal." Joey confirmed, shaking Pacey’s hand. "I think were in total agreement and that it will be just a formality to sign your employment contract."

"Great. When can I start?" Pacey was still holding her hand without realizing it.

"What about next Tuesday, March 1^st?" Joey suggested, squeezing his hand as reinforcement.

"Well, what about I start tomorrow? So that I can acclimate to everything?" Pacey returned the squeeze, somehow it felt like they were in a bazaar, bargaining with each other.

"You’re quite eager to get to work. So much so that you even trade in your last free weekend back home?"

"I miss cooking and being part of a restaurant." Pacey shrugged, holding her hand as he waited for the final handshake that would seal the deal.

"In that case, who am I to stop you from working your ass off? If you fancy working so much, it’s alright with me. Acclimate as much as you want for the next three days and instead of payment I offer you two days of paid leave after the first month, salary period starts on March 1^st, and you’re on probation for three months."

"Agreed." Pacey gave her hand another squeeze before letting go of her.

~*~

"You’re late, sis." Bessie leaned against the sink and watched Joey slump down on the couch.

"Yeah. It was a long day and the usual Friday night bustle kept us busy until closing time. Especially since two waitresses fell victim to the influenza." Joey stretched and slipped her shoes off, nestling them comfortable under her. "But I have some good news, too."

Bessie raised a brow as Joey almost beamed at her. "Oh really? What could that be?"

"Why are you looking at me so... morosely? You don’t believe that we’re more than ripe for some good news?" Joey playfully stuck her tongue out.

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with my crabby sister?" Bessie joined Joey on the couch, looking at her expectantly. It was a rare experience to witness a relaxed Josephine Potter.

"I found us a new head cook and hired him right away." Joey announced and stretched her arms.

"You did what? What happened to our policy of talking about such decisions? And what happened to the other candidates? And what the hell happened to you acting all spontaneously?"

"Please, I told you about those sorry excuses for cooks that applied." Joey rolled her eyes. "We can’t afford to be without a real cook any longer and Pacey Witter holds a degree, has absolutely great references, comes from New Raleigh, which means he knows what he signs up for in a small town, he wants to start working tomorrow and decisive point?" Joey paused and became serious, "He was more interested in the kitchen and its equipment than in his salary. Bodie would have loved him."

Bessie’s shoulders slumped slightly and she had to blink a few times. "Yeah, sounds like it." The idea of a real, new head cook working in Bodie’s kitchen was frightening. But she knew that this was the way things were supposed to go.

Joey hugged her sister. It was a big relief to have a new cook for the restaurant, but on the other hand it hurt a lot. The end of another era somehow and maybe the start of new.

~*~

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