Sizzling (17 page)

* * *

REID WALKED INTO Cal's office at the corporate headquarters of
The Daily Grind and slumped into the leather chair opposite his
brother's desk.
"What's up?" Cal asked. "You
look beat."
"I'm good. Still reading all the mail
that was sent over. I've sorted it into piles by date."
"Sounds
organized."
"It's hell. So many kids write to me.
Some of them want something but most of them are just trying to
connect with me. They think that if they can see me or talk to me
that it's a big deal."
"You're a famous
guy."
"Famous for what?" Right now Reid felt
about as important as last season's program. "I've wasted the
past year of my life. I got injured and it was my own damn
fault."
Cal leaned forward. "When you blew out your
shoulder? That wasn't your fault. You swerved to avoid some kids on
the mountain. It just happened."
"That's what I told
you," Reid said, finally ready to admit the truth. "There
weren't any kids. I was drunk. That's why I lost control and
snowboarded into a tree. That's why I lost my career. I was drunk and
stupid. Then I read about these sick kids and I realized I don't have
the right to complain about anything. I should spend every day making
their lives better."
"That's not your job," Cal
told him. "Life doesn't work that way."
"Then
how does it work? I can't be useless anymore. I've gotta make some of
this right. I just don't know how." He slumped lower in his
seat. "The press is still all over me. I get chased a lot when I
go out."
"It was a story designed to capture the
world's attention."
"You know what? That doesn't
even bother me so much anymore." What did he care about some
woman he couldn't remember? He knew how good things had been with
Lori. Funny how that mattered a whole lot more now.
"I
want to leave the sports bar," Reid said. "I'm going to
talk to Walker later."
"You just said the press
thing didn't bother you anymore."
"It's not about
that. I need to do something different. I'm not the right guy for the
job. I don't want to sit around and tell stories all day. I want to…"
That was the hell of it. He didn't know what he wanted to
do.
"You're rich, right?" Cal asked.
"Need
a loan?"
"I'm good. I was thinking about you. You've
got more money than you can ever spend."
"True."
"So
start a foundation. A real one. Endow it with enough money that it
functions off the interest, then set it loose on the world."
Reid
straightened. He didn't know anything about foundations except that
they did good stuff. He remembered how much he'd enjoyed watching
those kids get that sports equipment. "I could focus on what I
wanted," he said more to himself than to Cal. "Kids and
sports."
"More than that," his brother said.
"You're the guy everyone is interested in. You can get in places
the rest of us can't. You can get people to notice just by showing
up."
Reid knew that was true. When he made a call, he got
through. "I could give without anyone knowing it's me."
"Is
that what you want?"
Reid thought about all those letters
and requests and how coldly they'd been answered.
"I
don't need credit for doing the right thing," he said quietly.
"Not anymore."

* * *

LORI WALKED INTO Gloria's room and braced herself for any
number of comments. She was wearing new jeans and a fitted sweater.
Despite her inexperience, she'd managed to reproduce Ramon's riot of
curls and she'd done the makeup thing without poking herself in the
eye with the mascara wand.
But now that she was here, she felt
awkward and foolish. Like a goat trying to pass as a gazelle.
"Good
morning," Gloria said, looking up from her paper. "Did you
enjoy your day off?"
"Yes. How are you
feeling?"
"Like an old woman with a broken hip. It
aches a little this morning, but I'll survive."
"I
was hoping for life on a higher plane. Just surviving isn't
fun."
Gloria smiled. "You think you can perky your
way out of me noticing the changes, but you're wrong. Now stand in
the middle of the room and turn slowly."
"You don't
pay me to model."
"I pay you to cater to my whims.
Now go on."
Feeling foolish and a little self-conscious,
Lori did as instructed. She stood in the center of the room and
turned in a slow circle.
Gloria studied her, then nodded
slowly. "Better," she said. "Much better. You saw
Ramon?"
"Yes. He did the cut and showed me how to
use some fairly sticky products on my hair."
"The
clothes are nice, as well. You finally look like a woman instead of a
blob."
Lori chuckled. "Blob, huh?"
"If
I had to see that brown sweater one more time, I was going back to
the skilled nursing facility."
"I doubt
that."
"Your sister help you with your
clothes?"
Lori thought about saying she was more than
capable on her own, but they both knew it wasn't true. "Yes. She
picked everything out. It's kind of embarrassing that I don't know
what looks good on me."
"You do now." Gloria
leaned forward. "But we have to do something about those
glasses."
"I can't wear contacts and don't start on
me about the Lasik surgery. I'm not interested in getting my corneas
burned off, okay?"
"It's not like they burn off the
whole thing, but fine. You look lovely. Reid will be very
impressed."
Lori froze. Technically she'd had sex with
Reid under Gloria's roof, but it had never occurred to her that her
patient knew about it. She couldn't. That would be too humiliating
for words. They had to be talking about something else. Reid in
general. Or the fact that Lori had a crush on him, which no one was
supposed to know either.
"I didn't do this for Reid,"
Lori mumbled.
"Of course not, dear. I just want you to be
careful. I care about you and I don't want to see you get
hurt."
Lori appreciated the gesture. She knew Gloria
spoke from a place of caring and concern. But what really got her was
the assumption that Reid would do the hurting. That there was no way
she could ever be the one to leave or wound him.
Yes, it was
realistic, but just once she would like to be the one with the power
instead of the one left begging.
"I'll get your coffee,"
Lori said, and walked out of the room.
She entered the kitchen
and was startled to find Reid already there. He looked up, started to
speak, then stopped and stared at her.
"What?" she
demanded. "Is there a problem?"
"No. Hi. I'm
glad to see you. I missed you yesterday."
"I get a
day off."
She knew she was being a bitch and the real
reason had nothing to do with him.
"No one's saying you
don't." He moved close and kissed her. "I like your
hair."
"I got it cut." She felt stupid and
self-conscious.
"You weren't sure you wanted to before.
It looks good." He smiled. "In fact, you're
gorgeous."
"Now," she said, unable to keep the
hurt out of her voice. "You forgot to say now. But, hey, it's
great to be out of the ugly camp and in with you beautiful
people."
"What's wrong? Why are you mad at me?"
She
wasn't. She was mad at herself, but he was easier to yell at.
"I'm
pathetic," she announced. "Horribly pathetic and I hate it.
Why can't you have a crush on me? Why can't you be worried I won't be
interested anymore?"
"What makes you think I'm
not?"
She grabbed the coffee pot and poured, then glared
at him. "Oh, please. Get real. I had a makeover. I'm actually
wearing makeup and a thong. And I've done it all for you. To what
end? What's my point? This is crazy and it's all your fault."
"My
fault? What? How?"
She heard him sputtering as she left,
but didn't turn around. Talk about a mistake, she thought grimly. Who
was she fooling? She didn't fit in. She never would. Trying was a
mistake. Better to be safe and not risk the pain.

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

VALERIE'S GARDEN WAS a restored old Victorian on an acre lot.
To the right was the parking lot, but the rest of the house was
surrounded by a wild and beautiful garden. Even in winter there were
lush plants and hedges, trees and pathways that called to Dani. She
wanted to wander the stone walkways and discover all the secrets of
the beautiful space.
Instead she walked through the front door
and into the open dining area.
She was greeted by a young
woman in khaki pants and a white long-sleeved shirt covered by an
apron edged in embroidered flowers.
"We're closed for
lunch," she said with a smile, "but I can probably persuade
the chef to whip up something to go. How does that sound?"
Dani
appreciated the effort and made a note of the server's name. "Thanks,
Bethany. I'm Dani Buchanan. I have a two-thirty appointment with
Valerie."
"Oh, right. She's waiting for you. Her
office is right this way."
Bethany took her to the back
of the house, then up a narrow flight of stairs. Valerie's office had
once been a bedroom. The wallpaper was floral and mostly purple.
Valerie herself was a fifty-something woman who had long graying
blond hair pulled up on top of her head and wore flowing, romantic
clothes.
"Dani Buchanan, Val," Bethany
said.
"Wonderful." Valerie stood and stepped around
her painted desk. "Dani, I'm so happy to meet you. I've been
looking for a manager forever. It's so difficult to find the right
blend of philosophy and talent, but based on everything Penny told me
about you, I have a wonderful feeling about this interview."
"Me,
too," Dani said, shaking the other woman's hand and making a
mental note to call her sister-in-law and thank her for the
plug.
"Good, good. All right. Let's start with talking,
then I'll show you around and we'll finish up with a mini-tasting. I
told Martina, our head chef, to dazzle you."
"I look
forward to it." Dani sat in a white wicker chair that was
surprisingly comfortable.
"She's brilliant. Beyond
brilliant. Are you a vegan?"
Dani hesitated, then shook
her head. "I'm sorry, I'm not. The job description said that
wasn't a problem."
"It isn't," Valerie assured
her. "The only issue we'll have is a familiarity with the
various dishes. While you'd have that anywhere, it's more important
here. Our serious vegans want to know exactly what they're getting,
while those who are experimenting often want ideas for home
cooking."
"Learning the menu isn't a
problem."
"Good. We're fanatical about fresh here. I
have seasonal vendors who provide most of our produce. They're
amazing."
Dani thought about Penny's insistence that
everything be as fresh as possible.
"The right
ingredients make all the difference," she said.
Valerie
smiled. "I like you already. Come on. I'll show you
around."
They toured the supply areas upstairs, then
moved downstairs and met the few members of the serving staff who
were still hanging around, having a late lunch together and talking.
She saw the wine cellar, the two main dining rooms along with three
small rooms that could be used for private parties.
The
kitchen took up the rear of the house. It was light, bright and
filled with delicious smells. Martina was a tiny woman with a big
smile.
"I know Penny," she said by way of greeting.
"She says good things about you."
She and Dani shook
hands, then Martina introduced her staff.
"Most kitchens
are difficult, stressful places," Martina said. "I try to
be different. We all want to please our guests. I prefer harmony. Of
course I'm more than willing to knock a few heads together if
necessary."
Dani really liked the restaurant. She liked
the staff and Valerie and Martina. She liked the location, the
ambience and how no one seemed terrorized.
"Go on and
sit," Martina said. "I'll have Gerald bring out the first
course. I did up a little tasting menu for the two of
you."
"Wonderful," Valerie said. "Thanks,
hon."
Valerie led the way to a small table by the window.
In winter the view of the garden was impressive. Dani could only
imagine what it would be like in summer.
"I hope things
work out with you," Valerie said as they took a seat. "But
even if they do, I'm tempted to pretend to interview a couple more
people just to have Martina keep making her tasting menu. It's
delicious. The best of what she does. We're starting with a vegetable
quesadilla with a few spicy surprises and a leek soup you'll die
for."
Gerald, a good-looking guy in his early twenties,
appeared with a tray and a pitcher of iced tea.
"House
blend," Valerie said as he poured.
He then served small
cups of soup and set a plate of steaming tortilla wedges between
them.
Dani sipped the tea, then stared at her glass. She
wasn't a huge tea drinker, but she certainly enjoyed a glass of it
from time to time. But this one tasted odd. Like it had been steeped
in celery juice or cucumber water. It wasn't a great
combination.
She then tasted a spoonful of the soup. Leeks
were fairly innocuous, so she wasn't expecting much. Certainly not
the sharp tang of licorice.
"Anise?" she asked after
she'd forced herself to swallow the unpleasant liquid.
"Fennel
mostly. A few other herbs that bring out the distinctive flavor. The
stock is a cauliflower base we make up fresh every day. Guests beg us
for the recipe or to at least sell the stock to them, but Martina
keeps it all a secret."
Dani nodded and smiled, but on
the inside, she felt the first hint of worry. She loved Valerie and
her restaurant. It had never occurred to her that she could find the
exact place she wanted to work and be unable to eat the food.
Things
would get better, she told herself. They had to.
But they
didn't. The vegetable quesadilla was more awful than the soup, which
turned out to be the highlight of the meal.
Part of working in
a restaurant at the manager level was the need to be enthused about
everything served. Not only would Dani be eating it herself every day
she worked, she would also have to talk about it with guests and make
recommendations. How could she do that if she couldn't even choke
down one meal?
"Isn't this incredible?" Valerie
asked as she scooped up a forkful of a lentil casserole with an
unfortunate spice combination that tasted and smelled like bad
tuna.
"Martina is innovative," Dani said.
This
was so unfair, she thought bitterly. The restaurant was her dream
job. Why couldn't Valerie have a passion for steaks or Thai food or
anything else? Something she, Dani, could enjoy, or at least
tolerate. And how could she tell Valerie the truth?
She was
saved from having to come up with a polite version of "yuck"
when Valerie got an urgent call from her root vegetable vendor. She
promised to be in touch with Dani shortly.
As Dani walked to
her car, she glanced back at the beautiful old house. If Valerie
called with an offer, she would have to figure out a polite way to
tell her no. Then she would have to keep looking.
Her dream
job was out there…it had to be. She would keep looking until
she found it, no matter how long that took.