Meat (5 page)

“Yes, it is.” His smile seemed to fade a little. “You work here? So … you’re the manager of The Lavender Rose.”

“Yes, that’s right. How did you know?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t make the connection until now. We didn’t exchange last names, so I didn’t know that Rebecca Winston was you.”

“But how do you know—?”

“Because I came here looking for Rebecca Winston. I don’t know if your staff has filled you in yet, but I’m the new head chef here.”

Her stomach curled into a tight ball. Her Rex was T-Rex, the man who had fired her friends and terrorized most of the staff?

Rex saw the look on her face. The joy turning to disappointment and … worse.

His heart sank. The last thing he wanted to do was drive Rebecca away. She was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. He wanted them to have a future together, but judging from the disenchantment in her eyes, that possibility was slipping away fast.

“I came to meet with you because we need to talk about some of the things that have been going on.”

“Yes, like you firing so many good people.” Her voice was tight, and he knew he had a battle ahead of him.

“I’d like you to come to my office so we can discuss this.”

Her eyes flared. “We can talk right here.”

“That’s really not a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because neither of us want others to overhear this conversation.”

“I don’t think it’s the time to talk about what happened between us,” she said under her breath.

“I don’t agree, but that’s not what I’m talking about. What I have to say is sensitive information.”

She frowned. “All right.”

She followed him from the restaurant, then to the elevator. His office was several floors up, off the main kitchen, which was positioned not too far from the main ballroom. He led her through the large kitchen to his office.

The large windows of his corner office showed the crystal white snow glittering on the trees below. Snowflakes were drifting down from the sky, and he knew this was just the beginning. The news said they were in for another big storm later in the week.

He turned to Rebecca. The look in her eyes was as cold as the weather outside.

“Rebecca,” he said as he stepped closer to her, “I hope you won’t let this situation get in the way of the relationship we started—”

“This ‘situation’ is that you’ve fired a lot of people and apparently you’re terrorizing the rest of the staff.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand. That is not what I would have expected from you. You seemed so …”

“So what, Rebecca?”

Her lips pinched together. “I didn’t take you for a tyrant.”

“That’s because I’m not. Of course people are sensitive. They know new management is coming in. And I happened to precede that, so they’re directing all their fear and insecurity at me.”

“Are you saying you haven’t been yelling at people?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it yelling, but yes, I may have raised my voice a few times. I have little patience for incompetence.”

She drew in a deep breath, and he couldn’t help but notice the rise and fall of her chest, sending a surge of heat through him, despite the difficult situation.

“If you knew that they’re already anxious, why did you come in with such a heavy hand? Couldn’t you give them a couple of weeks to get to know you and trust you?”

He crossed his arms as he leaned against his desk. “And then what? I did what I had to do to get my kitchen in order. Firing those people had to be done.”

“Those were my friends,” she said bitterly, her eyes glazing.

Damn, he didn’t want to hurt her, but she had to understand.

“Did you know these friends of yours were stealing?”

“What?”

The look of shock on her face actually made him feel relieved. Not that he’d thought she could ever be a part of it, but her surprise was clearly authentic. He had worried that even if she wasn’t a part of it, she might have held silent to protect these so-called friends of hers.

“I don’t believe it.” She continued.

“Hidden security cameras were installed, and they caught every one of them in the act. The real shock is that the chef before me didn’t act on this. If he’d been managing his kitchen properly, he would have known something was amiss.”

“You’re saying Chef Maurice was involved?”

“Either involved or just plain incompetent.”

At the way her back stiffened and her eyes grew frigid, he realized he’d made a big mistake saying that.

“Don’t tell me. He was a friend of yours, too.”

“He was like a father to me.” Her voice was as rigid and cold as cracked ice.

He frowned. “Rebecca,” he said softly, “I’m really sorry. No one else knows about this but the hotel manager. Chef Maurice was suspected of stealing, with enough evidence that he was terminated and he’ll be facing charges. The staff haven’t been told any of this. I’m trusting that you won’t mention it to anyone.”

“Of course I won’t. But I don’t understand why anyone would believe such a thing.”

“The new owners had an audit done on the books and had some discrepancies followed up on.” He didn’t tell her about the detective who’d been hired to look into the staffs of various departments, including hers.

“I’ll never believe it,” she said in a low, pained voice. “They’re good people, and they’d never do that. The new owners are probably just looking for a way to clean house without paying severance.”

He stepped toward her and rested his hands on her shoulders. God, the feel of her made him want to pull her into his arms and kiss her. His heart pounded with his need.

“Rebecca, I’m sorry about all this. But I’ve seen the proof, and I’m only doing what needs to be done. Please don’t let it interfere with us.”

Her gaze darted to his. “As far as I’m concerned, there
is
no us.” She turned and walked toward the window, staring out at the glistening white world outside. “Is there anything else you need to talk to me about, Chef?”

He drew in a deep breath, then released it slowly. “No. Except to say that my door is always open.”

She nodded, sending him a frigid glance. Then she turned and strode to the door.

“And, Rebecca …”

Her hand froze on the doorknob and she waited, but she didn’t turn back to face him.

“I don’t intend to give up on us.”

The next day, Rebecca walked into the conference room ten minutes early for the weekly meeting of the department heads and set her folder down on the table. She walked to the table on the side of the room to pour herself a coffee, then moved to the open area by the windows and joined Stella from accounting and Gretchen, who managed Rage, the trendy bar on the main floor of the hotel.

“Hi, Rebecca. Nice to see you back,” Stella said.

“Yeah, so sorry about your aunt,” said Gretchen.

“Thanks. I’m glad to be back to work. I missed everyone while I was gone.”

Stella was a tiny blonde, pretty but a little subdued. Gretchen, although also a blonde, was almost the complete opposite. Tall and shapely. Boisterous. And very outgoing.

“You’ve heard about the new chef and all the changes?” Stella asked.

“Yes, unfortunately.”

Stella glanced around as more managers entered the room and headed for the coffee. She lowered her voice.

“He’s kind of scary.”

“Did he say something to you?” Rebecca asked in surprise, wondering how Rex—or anyone, for that matter—could be mean to Stella. She was such a timid person. It would be like kicking a helpless puppy and, despite everything, Rebecca didn’t believe Rex would be like that. Hadn’t she seen how tenderly he’d nurtured the helpless puppy she’d so recently been?

“No, I haven’t talked to him yet, but from everything I’ve heard …” Stella pursed her lips. “I’m glad I don’t have to deal with him directly like you and Gretchen do.”

“Despite what everyone says, I think he’s hot,” Gretchen said. “You have seen him, right, Rebecca?” Her grin broadened. “I mean, with those tattoos on his arms … and biceps to die

for …” She leaned in closer. “They say he specializes in meat, and I just bet that his piece of ‘meat’ is big and juicy.” She nudged Rebecca. “Emphasis on the ‘big.’”

“Gretchen, it’s ten below outside. How would you know if he has tattoos on his arms?” Rebecca asked, an unexpected flurry of jealousy washing through her.

Gretchen grinned. “Let’s just say that with a sexy chef, it gets all kinds of hot in that kitchen.”

Images of Gretchen peeling away Rex’s white chef shirt … exposing his broad chest and muscular, tattooed arms … both of them sweating from the heat of the flaming grill behind them … sent Rebecca’s hormones spinning and jealousy coiling tight in her stomach.

“Gretchen walked into his office while he was changing his shirt,” Stella explained. “And no one argues that he’s not good-looking. He’s just too bossy … and mean.”

“He’s not mean. People are just intimidated because he’s all man.” Gretchen winked. “Dominating.” She smiled wickedly. “But I think I could handle him. Especially with a few whips and chains.”

“Which end would you be on?” Stella asked.

“Either is fine by me.”

The glint in Gretchen’s eyes disturbed Rebecca, as did how accurate she was about his size and sexual tastes.

“I don’t think you could handle him.” Rebecca didn’t know why she’d let the words slip out. She hardly ever got involved in this type of sexual banter with people in the hotel, especially Gretchen, but the idea of Gretchen’s starting something with Rex threw her off balance.

Gretchen laughed. “And you think you could?”

Rebecca’s cheeks heated, and she wished she’d kept her mouth shut.

Gretchen grinned. “Sorry, Bec. I was just teasing. But …” Gretchen slid her arm around Rebecca. “Well, you don’t really want to tackle that. You’re so sweet. He’d eat you up and spit you out.” She gave Rebecca a quick squeeze. “Now me, I’d definitely do some eating, but believe me, there’d be no spitting out.”

Stella, her cheeks blossoming a deep rose color, rested her hand on Rebecca’s arm. “We should go sit down.”

Rebecca glanced around and noticed that most people were sitting at the table now. She and her companions sat together. Across the room, Chef Rex walked in the door. The dull roar of the conversation in the room lowered perceptibly with his arrival, many glancing his way as he sat down beside Bruno, head of maintenance. Even Bruno, as big and burly as he was, seemed slightly ill at ease sitting beside Rex.

“Good morning, everyone.” Benjamin Miller, the hotel manager, said as he walked into the room and took his place at the head of the large conference table. He glanced toward Rebecca.

“Rebecca, I’m glad to see you back. We were all saddened to hear about your loss.”

Nods and murmurs of agreement rippled around the table.

“Thank you, everyone,” Rebecca said. “And the flowers you sent were lovely.”

She couldn’t help but notice that Rex’s gaze was on her, his blue eyes filled with warmth. She couldn’t help but remember that when she’d broken down in tears in his arms at the airport, he’d comforted her.

“I’m sure you’ve heard about some of the changes that have occurred since you’ve been gone,” Benjamin continued. “Unfortunately, Chef Maurice left us, but we were very lucky to welcome Chef Rex Keene, a highly acclaimed chef who specializes in preparing specialty steaks, roasts, and other meats.”

Benjamin continued the meeting, giving an overview of the weekly updates from each of the department heads. He quickly glossed over the layoffs of the kitchen staff by Chef Rex, then moved on to talking about the upcoming change of ownership without really saying anything new.

“Now, I know there are a lot of changes afoot and that many of you and your staffs are feeling a little uncertain,” Benjamin said, clearly near the end of his agenda. “Of course, my door is always open, but are there any questions or concerns you would like to raise here?”

Rebecca glanced around the room at the uneasy faces. Everyone had been concerned about whether they and their staffs would have jobs after the takeover, and Benjamin had told them that the new owners had said there would be as little displacement as possible. With Chef Rex arriving like a storm cloud and laying off so many kitchen staff, however, people were clearly more nervous than ever.

Rebecca drew in a deep breath, knowing she had to speak up.

“Yes, I have a question.”

“What is it, Rebecca?” Benjamin asked.

“I wasn’t here last week when our new chef arrived, but from what I’ve been hearing from people, his management style is causing some tensions. Since we’re the management team for this hotel and part of our responsibility is to keep a harmonious relationship between staff and management, I thought maybe we could discuss where the problems are occurring and see if Chef Rex would be willing to make some changes so we can minimize any additional stress on the staff.”

To her total shock, Benjamin stared at her like a deer in headlights, then his gaze shifted to Chef Rex and … Well, Benjamin definitely looked nervous.

Good heavens, how was it that Rex daunted even the unflappable Benjamin, who was a strong and determined leader?

“I think this is something we should discuss privately,” Benjamin said.

Chef Rex sat up straight, his sharp blue gaze locking on her. “No. By all means, let’s discuss it now.” The gold flecks in his eyes that she had thought looked like stardust now seemed to flare like electrical sparks. “Ms. Winston, instead of talking in vague references, why don’t you say what’s on your mind?”

All eyes shifted to her.

“All right. I’ve heard that you’ve been yelling at staff and embarrassing them in front of others. That you come across as intimidating. That many people are afraid of you. I suggest there’s a better way to deal with issues with employees.”

“Is that so? Well, I suggest that rather than listening to stories, it would be better if you’d come to me to discuss the issue directly—to ensure you get your facts straight.”

The blistering chill in his voice, directed at her, made her feel small and vulnerable.

This was how others must feel around him all the time.

But she would not let him cow her. She pulled back her shoulders.

“I heard about your bullying manner from reliable sources.”

“Really? Who here would like to back up Ms. Winston’s claims?” He glanced around, and everyone conveniently had somewhere else to look rather than face his hard stare.

She frowned at the lack of support she received. Then she drew in a deep breath to revive her courage.

“Regardless, a problem is growing and I think it should be addressed.”

“Then I’ll address it. I do not yell. At worst, I lecture.”