Spark (Heat #2)
Authors: Deborah Bladon
Part Two of
The HEAT Series
New York Times Bestselling Author
Deborah Bladon
FIRST ORIGINAL KINDLE EDITION, MAY 2016
Copyright © 2016 by Deborah Bladon
All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written consent from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual person’s, living or dead, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
eBook ISBN: 978-1-926440-37-8
Book & cover design by Wolf & Eagle Media
"It's hard not to stare, isn't it, Cadence?"
I turn to the left to look at him. He's wearing faded jeans and a black T-shirt. A Red Sox ball cap covers his hair. It's pulled down low enough that I have to lean forward to look into his brown eyes. They're filled with resignation.
"I didn't know if you'd be here, Chef."
He smiles at the greeting but it's fleeting. It's gone almost as quickly as it appears. All that's left in its wake is the same empty expression that's been there since the fire.
"I knew you'd be here," he counters with a nod. "You didn't make it to my place last night."
I wanted to. My intention was to meet Tyler at his apartment at midnight but my body had plans of its own. I was watching television when I fell asleep shortly after ten last night and didn't wake up until an hour ago. I showered, dressed and then let my curiosity take the lead. That's why I'm here, staring at the charred remains of Nova. I did the same thing when I woke up yesterday and the day before that.
Just like both of those mornings, Tyler is here too. The only difference today is that he's alone. Yesterday he was talking to Maribel when I got here. The day before that it was a fire official. I hadn't interrupted either time. I'd just stood and looked at what the fire had left behind before I turned and walked away.
"I'm sorry about that," I say gently. I don't add an explanation. I know he doesn't need one. I'm pretty sure the only reason he asked me to his place last night was because I'd texted him twice yesterday afternoon telling him I wanted to see him. He reluctantly agreed to meet me. Since there wasn't a text message or a voicemail from him waiting for me when I woke up today, I knew that he likely felt some sense of relief that I'd stayed at home.
My desire to comfort him may not be coming from a selfish place, but it feels that way. I want to tell him everything will be fine. It's taken me the last three days to realize it might not be.
The only real loss I've suffered in this is a job. Tyler has lost virtually everything he's ever worked for.
His finger moves a strand of hair from the side of my face. "It still feels surreal to me."
It feels that way to all of us to varying degrees. Any person who worked at Nova before it was destroyed by fire is experiencing the same thing. It's a combination of grief, anger and disbelief.
Heavy silence had consumed the gathered crowds early that morning when an explosion leveled the building. I watched, in stunned horror, with dozens of strangers as the restaurant, and the apartments above it, were destroyed. I'd stood frozen in place when the firefighters turned away from the building after it collapsed.
My heart was somewhere in my throat when they pulled off their masks. It was a silent signal that they weren't going into the burning structure. Word spread quickly, through all the people and the press waiting for news, that whoever was in the restaurant wasn't going to make it out alive.
That's when I tried calling Tyler again, and then Brendon.
My heart sped with each unanswered ring.
I needed to talk to Tyler to know that he wasn't inside. I wanted to speak to Brendon so he could tell me that Tyler was safe. I didn't realize my motive for wanting to hear my ex-boyfriend's voice until he answered, finally, the third time I called.
He was at home eating his breakfast as if it was any other day. I couldn't tell if he was surprised or not when I told him, over the sounds of sirens and street noise, that Nova was gone and that someone was still inside the building.
Instead, he gave me a fucking play-by-play of his morning while I stood on that street corner watching water being sprayed on the flames.
I listened when he told me that he waited for Tyler on the sidewalk in front of Nova for close to thirty minutes before he gave up and left. He said he circled back toward his place and then decided to have a coffee at a bodega. After that he hopped on the subway, went home and showered.
I didn't feel any sense of relief that he hadn't met up with Tyler. I was pissed. I was angry that Brendon stole Tyler from my bed when he demanded they meet. I was livid that he was still interfering in my life even though we broke up so long ago. I was mostly upset that I couldn't find Tyler.
As Brendon went on about how I'll never make it without him, I turned toward the people standing next to me who were talking about Tyler and how hard it would be to rebuild the restaurant.
That's when I saw him. I dropped my phone in my bag, even as Brendon kept talking. I didn't give a shit about a word he was saying. None of it mattered.
The only thing that I cared about was the man I saw standing ten feet away from me. His hands were curled tightly over a wooden barricade, his left foot tapping non-stop. The pained look on his face said it all. His gaze was locked on the still burning remnants of the restaurant; his restaurant.
I pushed past everyone, not bothering to apologize when I stepped on toes or elbowed someone in the ribs.
Just as I reached Tyler, he shot a quick glance in my direction. He pulled me easily into his arms and I held him tightly as he watched his dream being destroyed right before our eyes.
We clung to each until a beautiful woman with long brown hair came running at us. When Tyler saw her, he left me. His arms circled her and they sobbed together. I didn't feel any rejection. I couldn't. She looked too much like him. It was his sister, Kayla Foster, and when she introduced herself after the fire captain came to talk to Tyler, I knew that he'd shared details about me with her.
It wasn't just that she knew my name. I expected that when she said she saw me on television with her brother. It was more than that. She knew about the Marglobe tomatoes and the halibut. She talked about the dress I'd worn to the VIP event at Nova. She mentioned, quietly, that he had told her I was special and that she was glad I was in his life.
"Is there anything I can do for you, Tyler?" I fill the silence between us. There may be people brushing past us as we stand together on the sidewalk across the street from where the restaurant used to be, but their presence doesn't change anything. Tyler's sole focus at this moment is the same as mine. It's the shell of Nova that's now surrounded by a chain link fence and at least a dozen yellow warning signs meant to keep people a safe distance away.
He straightens his back as he taps the brim of his ball cap with his fingers. I stare at the bandage wrapped around his hand. It's a lingering reminder of his attempt to get inside the restaurant that morning. He'd burned it on the door handle before the heat, and some people passing by, stopped him.
I heard him telling Kayla that he didn't know how bad the fire was until he looked in through the front windows to see flames blanketing the ceiling and trailing down the walls of the dining room. It was another few minutes before the first fire engine arrived. By then, there was nothing anyone could do to save Nova.
Darrell had given it a valiant effort when he tried to douse the flames with a fire extinguisher after smoke filled the back office where he was working on next week's schedule for the sous chefs. When he realized it was futile, he raced to fetch his and Tyler's knife sets before he rushed out the back door just as the fire consumed the kitchen and the overhead sprinklers finally kicked in.
Luckily, he was the only one in the restaurant when the fire started. When someone on the cleaning crew returned to get their forgotten phone they frantically told a policeman that Darrell was working inside when they had left an hour before. No one could have known that he was actually in a dry cleaning shop down the block trying to catch his breath. Miraculously, he only suffered minor smoke damage and everyone who lived above the restaurant was able to flee with time to spare.
"There's something," he starts to say in a husky tone. "I have some stuff I need to say."
"Stuff?"
"Work stuff," he clarifies. "I want to speak to the staff. I want you to set up a meeting. I need to talk to everyone at once. That has to happen soon."
I hesitate. I've been fielding calls and texts from some of my co-workers since the fire. It's not a secret that I'm dating Tyler. They see me as a direct route to him. I've used the same tired line on everyone, telling them that I don't know anything but I'll be in touch as soon as I do.
Common courtesy may dictate that it's not the time to talk about what's going to happen to our jobs, but most of the people who worked at Nova have a mortgage or rent to pay. They have financial responsibilities and without any word from Tyler on what the future holds, some have started putting out feelers to see if any other restaurant in Manhattan is hiring.
"I can do that." I nod. I can, obviously. I just don't know where or when he wants this to happen. Soon is subjective but I'll make it work.
"Cadence." He takes a deep breath. "I need to go. I'm meeting with an insurance adjuster in fifteen minutes. I want the staff meeting at my apartment, tomorrow is best for me. Make it in the afternoon preferably, say around four o'clock."
It's as though he reads my mind and my needs as he leans toward me, brushes his lips against mine and kisses me tenderly before he darts across the street.
"You're thinking what I'm thinking." Sophia walks into my bedroom cradling a mug of hot tea in her hands. "That fire wasn't an accident."
My gaze zeroes in on her face. We haven't said much to each other about the fire since it happened. I know Sophia. She's kept quiet about it until now to give me space to process things. She's considerate that way. Judging by what she just said, she assumes I'm ready to talk about it. I'm not so sure that I am.
"I don't think that." My jaw tightens. "No one knows what happened yet."
"Someone knows." She narrows her eyes. "Brendon went there to meet Tyler and an hour later the restaurant is burning to the ground."
"Darrell was there," I point out.
"Has anyone asked him how the fire started?" She raises both brows at me. "He must know exactly what happened."
I sit on the edge of my bed. I assume someone asked Darrell that. I've tried to call him twice during the last three days. My motivation is mainly about wanting to make sure he's okay although I admit there's a small part of me that wants to know if he has any clue about how the fire started.
"I think the investigators would have taken his statement by now."
That's pure conjecture on my part. I'm basing that completely on the reruns of the crime dramas I watch on the weekends. It has nothing to do with actual knowledge. I'm as out of the loop as Sophia is.
Her gaze cuts to the three chef jackets I've washed and pressed. They're now hanging in full view in my closet. "What if Brendon torched Nova to force you to work with him at Axel again?"
"Torched Nova?" I physically wince when I say the words. "You need to stop binge watching television with me on Saturday nights."
The corners of her mouth dart up into a smile. "Don't you dare tell me that you haven't considered the idea, Den. You're the one who told me that Brendon was capable of just about anything."
I did say that. I can't remember exactly when since Brendon annoyed the hell out of me so often when we were together. Sophia had been my sounding board whenever I was pissed off at my then boyfriend. I knew it would come back to bite me in the ass at some point in a subtle, or not so subtle, '
I told you so
' moment.
"He's not capable of setting a fire, Soph."
"I think he is." She nods toward my closet. "It's not a coincidence that he said he was going to Nova that morning and then it was on fire. He hated that you worked for Tyler. He wants you back at Axel and since Nova is no more, he thinks you'll run back to him."
"That's quite the conspiracy theory." I close my eyes briefly wishing that I'd gone to bed when I had the chance. Sophia worked late today. I used the extra time to finish the last of the phone calls to my co-workers. I thought about sending out a group text to tell them about the meeting at Tyler's apartment tomorrow afternoon but I wanted to hear their voices to assure them that Tyler was fine and to encourage them to come to the meeting. Some agreed to show up, others told me they'd try and make it and a few were too distraught to say much at all. I ended up leaving voicemails for six people, including Darrell and Maribel.
"Love can make people do crazy things." Her gaze narrows. "Have you talked to Brendon since the fire? He's asked you to work with him again, hasn't he? He wants you back at Axel."
I avoid answering directly. "He wanted me back before the fire. I told you that. He came into Nova for lunch and offered me a job."
"He's going to ask again." She sighs as she walks toward the doorway. "He'll push for you to go back now that Nova is done. I'm surprised he hasn't already told you that he has a job waiting for you."
I'm surprised that she has so much insight into a man she can't stand. Brendon has called. He's called at least six times since the morning of the fire. I haven't answered. Each and every message he's left has been a repeat of the one before.
He wants me back at Axel working alongside him and as soon as I give him the word, the job of senior chef is mine.
"I'll never work with him again." I fiddle with the hem of the tank top I'm wearing, tugging on a loose thread. "I don't need to go work at Axel. I can wait until Nova is rebuilt."
"Tyler is rebuilding the restaurant? I didn't realize he was planning on doing that."
He's not. Technically, I don't know if he is or not. I'm assuming he is based on my own desire to keep working with him. I haven't told Sophia that I'm tied up in knots inside. I'm worried that if I go work at another restaurant that my relationship with Tyler will fade into nothingness.
It's not a stretch to think that things will change, especially since we haven't spent any time alone together the past three days other than the few minutes on the sidewalk this morning.
I know that I was the one who fell asleep and missed going to his place last night but he didn't track me down. He wasn't looking for me when I didn't show up.
His attention is focused on picking up the pieces of his life, not on what's going to happen between the two of us. It's so seriously fucked up that I'm worrying about whether he'll still be interested in me when he's trying to deal with losing his entire business.
I need to haul my ass out of the pool of pity I'm wading in and help him in any way I can.
"He's having a staff meeting tomorrow afternoon. He wants to talk to everyone who works at the restaurant." My eyes linger on my freshly laundered chef jackets. "He asked me to arrange it for him."
"Why?" She leans her hip against the wooden doorframe. "So he can tell everyone that Nova will rise from the ashes? I wonder how long it will take for that to happen."
I don't say anything. I only shrug before she turns and walks down the hallway toward her own room. I'm silently grateful that she didn't wait for me to reply. I couldn't tell my best friend that I have no idea what my lover is going to say in that meeting. I'll hear his plans for the future at the very same time everyone else who works for him does.
