Hungry for You (14 page)
“I am much younger than my brothers,
oui.”
He took her arm to walk her across the parking lot. It was only four o’clock, but the sky was already starting to darken with the threat of nightfall. That was one thing Alex hated about winter. She didn’t mind the cold so much as the short days.
“Well, have a good dinner,” she said with forced good cheer as she unlocked and opened the driver’s door.
“Yes, and you enjoy your cooking.” He held the door as she slid in behind the steering wheel.
“Oh, believe me, I will.” She assured him, then said, “See you Monday,” and pulled the door closed.
Alex started the engine, gave Cale a little wave, and pulled away, smiling happily to herself.
Cale Valens was awesome. She couldn’t believe her luck. He’d done more to turn things around in one day than she could ever have managed at all. Getting reimbursed for the tiles was the bomb! Alex could actually breathe again. She’d felt like she was drowning for weeks now, but right that minute she felt on top of the world, and it was all thanks to Cale.
God, he was good. And she got to cook again. She really had to call Sam and thank her for sending the man her way. He was an answer to a prayer. He gave her hope that this having two restaurants would work out after all. Now all she had to do was keep her hands off the man and avoid a sexual-harassment suit.
Alex set to work prepping for the night ahead with
a pleased sigh, setting out the pans and utensils she was most likely to need, and then lining up ingredients she would use. It was Friday, a week since Cale ’s arrival in her life, and it had been an awesome week. The man was a blessing, accomplishing more in that time than she could have.
Cale had managed to get all of her paperwork in order, had overseen countless deliveries without a hitch—or at least, if there had been hitches, he’d taken care of them and kept the aggravation from her. The new restaurant was now furnished, including her office, which had also been painted. After the fiasco with the tiles, Alex had intended to leave her office unfinished until she could better afford it; but once Cale had arranged the refund for the tiles, she’d decided to splurge and gone out to buy the paint. She’d bought it Monday andpainted the office Monday night … much to Cale’s chagrin. He’d been upset that she hadn’t told him and let him help, but he worked hard enough during the day and she hadn’t wanted to bother him on his time off.
Besides, Alex thought it might be best to avoid spending too much time alone with the man. He was just too attractive for her peace of mind. On top of that, he was working for her, which might only be temporary, but that was another problem altogether. She didn’t need to fall for the guy when he was leaving in a month or two. She feared he would be easy to fall for.
There was now only one week to go until the opening of the new restaurant, and Alex found she was actually looking forward to it instead of panicking every time she thought of it. This, the old La Bonne Vie, was being shut down for that night so that she and her staff could attend the opening. They’d also be on hand to help if necessary, and it might be since Alex was expecting quite a turnout on opening night. She was looking forward to that too.
“Which reminds me,” Alex murmured to herself, and glanced over her shoulder to Bev. The woman was checking a roast duck she’d popped in the oven earlier.
“Bev, will Mark be able to get Friday night off to attend the opening?” Alex asked as the woman eased the oven door closed and straightened. The young woman’s boyfriend, Mark, worked at Chez Joie. Friday night was a busy night for most restaurants, and he hadn’t been sure he’d be able to get the time off to attend … especially considering what it was for.
Bev glanced her way and smiled widely. “Yes, muchto my amazement, Jacques didn’t even give him a hard time over it.”
Alex raised her eyebrows, surprised at such decency from Jacques, or Jack as she’d always known him before he’d started Chez Joie and changed it to Jacques. What was it with men and their need to put on airs, she wondered. She didn’t know any women chefs who took on fake French names to make themselves feel or sound more important. But Jack had actually had his name legally changed to sound French … the pretentious twit, she thought, and then considered that he and Peter/Pierre might be getting along like gangbusters. Both were egocentric weasels. Which was why she was surprised he’d not given Mark a hard time about attending the opening of a competitor’s new restaurant.
“That reminds me,” Bev said suddenly. “Mark told me this morning that Jacques fired Peter last night.” The younger woman wrinkled her nose. “I guess Peter didn’t take it well. He—” She stopped suddenly, her face paling as she peered toward the door.
Expecting someone to have entered, Alex turned, but there was no one there. She didn’t understand what had caused Bev’s reaction until she peered through the window into the restaurant and spotted Peter walking quickly through the tables toward the kitchens.
“Speak of the devil,” Alex muttered. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why the man was here. He’d been fired and hoped to gain back his old job, she guessed, and sighed unhappily, not really needing this tonight. Fridays were always busy, and she didn’t want to start the night in a bad mood … although to be honest, shedidn’t want to start any night in a bad mood and would have been happy to bypass the coming conversation altogether.
Grimacing, she glanced back to Bev, noting the resigned look on the other woman’s face as she ducked her head back to her work. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was bothering her. Bev was afraid Alex would actually take Peter back, which meant Bev would be demoted.
Before Alex could reassure the woman, Peter pushed through the door into the kitchens and headed straight for her.
He hesitated briefly, and then—in humble tones she wasn’t at all used to from him—said, “Alex, can I have a word with you, please?”
She considered simply saying no and avoiding what she knew was coming, but then feared he would simply say it out here and decided perhaps the office was better.
Sighing, she led him across the kitchen, saying, “I only have a minute, Peter. It’s Friday night.”
At the door to her office, Alex paused and gestured for him to enter, then followed, leaving the door open. She didn’t want him closing the door and trapping her in the room with him, she wasn’t stupid. Peter had a hair-trigger temper, and she wanted someone to know if he suddenly tried to throttle her.
“Sit down,” she said quietly, moving around behind her desk. Alex settled in her seat, and then waited a touch impatiently as Peter peered down at his hands and swallowed repeatedly. She now just wanted to getthe unpleasantness over with and get on with her life. She was so eager for that she almost blurted that he couldn’t have his job back before he asked for it, but he began to speak as she opened her mouth.
“You were right,” he announced grimly. “Jacques fired me last night.” He raised his head, expression furious, and said, “He was just trying to ruin you by hiring me away from you.”
“I did try to warn you,” Alex murmured, not bothering to feign surprise.
“He was furious with that five-star review in the paper last week when you had that French guy cooking,” Peter went on, his tone rabid. “And he tried to hire away your new head manager when he heard that you’d hired him. When that didn’t work, he just lost it.”
Alex’s eyes narrowed. Cale hadn’t mentioned anything about Jacques approaching him.
“He called me into his office and ranted and raved at me like it was my fault,” Peter continued with outrage. “He said hiring me was useless and … and then he fired me.”
“I see,” Alex murmured.
“Do you know he hadn’t even fired his previous head chef?” Peter asked with disgust. “The guy was only on vacation.”
She wasn’t terribly surprised at this news. Alex also wasn’t surprised that Jacques had hired a chef rather than cook himself. He was a horrible cook. The only way he’d managed to get as far as he had in the culinary school they’d both attended was by cheating. He’dbeen tossed out when he was caught and disappeared for a while, only to pop up in Toronto and open Chez Joie shortly after she started La Bonne Vie.
“So I’ve come to ask for my position back,” Peter announced stiffly, reclaiming her attention as he hurried on. “I realize you are head chef again, so I would have to take the
sous-chef
position once more, but I’m willing to accept that humiliation as punishment for not heeding your warnings and—”
“Peter,” Alex interrupted quietly.
“Pierre,” he corrected with a flash of the old arrogance she suspected was boiling under the humbler facade he was presenting.
Alex just shook her head, and said, “I’m sorry you’ve lost your job at Chez Joie. And yes, I did warn you, however—”
“Yes, I know, but—”
“However,” Alex repeated firmly. When he got the message and fell silent, she continued, “I’m not willing to demote Bev and fire Bobby. I won’t rearrange everything to suit you when you’ll simply do this again the first chance you get and leave me in a lurch once more.”
“I wouldn’t. I swear it,” he said passionately.
“I don’t believe you,” she said quietly. He started to say something again, but she held up her hand and added, “And I’m not willing to take the chance.”
“But I don’t have a job now,” he said, as if that might have slipped her notice and realizing it should make her change her mind.
“That’s not my fault or problem, Peter,” she pointed out quietly. “I asked you to stay at the time. I explainedwhat I thought Jacques was up to, and you chose to leave. I’m afraid you’ll have to live with that decision.”
Peter stared at her blankly, apparently having been sure she’d be pleased to accept him back. The fact that she wasn’t forgiving all and welcoming him back wasn’t what he wanted to hear, and she felt herself tense as anger began to replace his surprise.
“You arrogant bitch,” he hissed coldly. “I suppose you’re pleased to see me here groveling?”
The night he’d left, Alex had thought she would enjoy his fall, but now that it was here, she found she wasn’t enjoying it at all. Not even a little. Instead, she actually felt sorry for the little weasel and said so. “No, actually I’m sorry for you.”
“Sorry?” Rage covered his face and he leapt to his feet. “Don’t you dare feel sorry for me. I am Pierre. I am a brilliant chef. Certainly too good for this little shit hole. You’re the one who’s going to be sorry!” Turning on his heel, he stormed out, nearly running over Bev on the way.
“Jerk,” Alex muttered as he slammed out of the kitchen.
“You didn’t hire him back.”
Alex glanced to the door where Bev now stood, staring at her wide-eyed. Frowning, she said, “Of course I didn’t. Why would I? He was difficult to work with at the best of times, and you’re a better
sous-chef
than he ever was. And someday you’ll make a better head chef than he could ever dream to be.”
Bev flushed at the compliment. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, it’s the truth,” Alex said solemnly,and then glanced to the phone on her desk when it began to ring. Recognizing Sam’s number, she glanced to the clock, frowning when she saw what time it was. The front doors would be opening in a couple of minutes and the first people arriving. She didn’t really have long to talk, and Sam would know that. For her to be calling at this time of the day, it must be something important.
“I’d better get back to prep,” Bev murmured.
Alex nodded. “I’ll be along in a minute. Can you close the door for me?”
“Sure.” Bev pulled the door closed as Alex reached for the phone.
“How is Cale?” Sam asked the moment Alex said hello.
She raised her eyebrows at the unconventional greeting, but then found herself smiling and saying, “He’s brilliant. Awesome. Thank you for sending him my way.”
“I’m so glad.” Sam sounded truly delighted, but then asked, “How awesome?”
Alex sat back in her seat, her eyebrows rising. “What do you mean? ”
“I mean … well
how
exactly is he awesome?”
Alex considered the question, and then simply said, “He’s the answer to my dreams, Sam. Or maybe my prayers.”
“Has he told you about his family?” Sam asked at once.
“Not much,” she admitted. “I gather he has brothers who are soldiers. And he learned to cook for the familyrestaurant, but prefers the business end of things. That’s about it really.”
“That’s it?” Sam asked, and Alex could hear the disappointment in her voice.
“Yes, that’s it,” Alex said with a laugh. “Why would he tell me any more than that? I’m his boss, not his girlfriend.”
A low groan came down the line. “Alex, don’t you—I mean, what do you think of him as a man? ”
“Is he a man?” she teased, and peered out the window above her couch at the bustling activity in the kitchen.
“Alexandra!” Sam snapped impatiently.
She sighed. What did she think of him as a man? In her mind’s eye Cale rose before her, Cale smiling, Cale frowning, Cale painting, Cale sitting at her desk. Finally, she admitted, “I think he’s gorgeous, smart, funny, smells divine, and he probably has the sexiest accent I’ve ever heard.”
“And? “ Sam prompted.
“And what?”
“What are you going to do about it?” Sam asked impatiently.
Alex sat up in her seat, her voice firm as she said, “Absolutely nothing.”
“What?” her sister gasped with what sounded like horror. “But—”
“Sam, honey,” she interrupted gently. “I know you’re deliriously happy with Mortimer and want the same for me, but Cale is the best business manager I could ask for. I’m not messing that up by getting involved.” She let that sink in, and then added, “Besides, I’m not likeyou. I don’t need a man to make me happy. Cooking and my restaurant make me happy.”
“But it doesn’t keep you warm at night,” Sam said at once.
“That’s what electric blankets are for.”
“You can’t talk to electric blankets,” Sam argued.
