by Robin Kaye
“I’ve never had a dog. Not because I don’t like them, but it wasn’t conducive to my hours. I’ve always worked six or seven days a week.”
Pete leaned forward. “That won’t happen here. I think it’s important to have a life, so we’re only open Tuesdays through Saturdays. Rex trained the kitchen staff well. He’s usually out the door right after the dinner rush. He orders all the food and does the schedule and specials, so he comes in for a little while on Mondays. Harrison, the sous chef, checks in deliveries, and takes over for him once the mad dinner rush is over. Harrison could probably handle a night or two alone if you need to take time off, but he’s only been with us for six months. I don’t think he’s ready to fill Rex’s shoes just yet. That’s something we can discuss in my office after lunch. If you’re interested in meeting Pepperoni and checking out Rex’s place, I’m sure Patrice will run you over there when we’re through, won’t you, Patrice?”
“Sure, the girls are at a friend’s house, so I’m free for the afternoon.”
“Good, it’s settled, then. Skye, eat your meal. It’s great.”
“I’m glad you think so.” Her head was spinning. A furnished apartment, a job, and a dog—something she’d always wanted—just fell into her lap. How lucky was that? She rubbed her four-leaf clover again.
Logan reached across the table and refilled her wine.
Skye took another sip and found him watching her. “The wine is wonderful. What is it?”
“It’s Billingsly Special Reserve Chardonnay 2006. It’s my first vintage.”
“You should have saved it for a special occasion.”
“I did.”
The sound of his voice slid over her like silk and the look in his eyes made her breath catch.
“It looks like you passed Pop’s taste test.”
“I told you there was nothing I couldn’t do in a kitchen.”
“Touché.”
The way he looked at her was enough to make a girl blush, and damned if she didn’t. Her heart sped up and her throat went dry, while other parts of her did just the opposite. Damn, of all the times for her hormones to come out of hiding. The last thing she needed was to be attracted to her new boss. At least he’d only be there for a month.
* * *
Pete took a seat in his office and watched Skye Sinclair over the application she’d filled out. There were more holes in it than a lead suspect’s alibi. She hadn’t even filled out her last place of employment.
“I’ve been working in restaurants all my life. I trained at the California Culinary Academy and have been employed steadily for the last seven years.”
“So why did you leave?”
“Personal reasons.”
He gave her a look that had made grown men cry for their mamas. “You don’t want me to call for references?” The girl was nervous and he wasn’t sure why. After eating her cooking, he knew Skye could get a job at a fine restaurant. That much was obvious. The Crow’s Nest was a great place, but it wasn’t Jean-Georges. So why was she sweating the interview for a restaurant she could probably run with one hand tied behind her back?
He tossed her application down. “What’s the deal, Skye?”
“The deal?”
“We both know this application isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on. Let’s cut to the chase. Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“No. I’m just not interested in my past employer knowing my whereabouts.”
“You do realize I used to be a cop, right? I can have a background check run on you faster than you can say ‘Bob’s your uncle.’”
“You won’t find anything if you were to do that.”
“Then why the secrecy? You didn’t even fill out the emergency contact information.”
“You can call Kelly in case of emergency. I used her as a reference.” She leaned forward and pointed out Kelly’s information.
“Did you work with her?”
“Yes, a few years ago. She’s since left the business.”
Pete raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you just come clean with me? Is some guy giving you a hard time?”
“I left for personal reasons. There was nothing dangerous, just…well, personal.”
“Is trouble going to follow you here, Skye?”
“No. There’s no danger. I just needed to escape. I might have a problem with them, but you won’t. It’s personal.”
Them. He sat back and watched her. There was more than one of them. That cut out the psycho ex-boyfriend scenario. He wasn’t sure he believed her problems wouldn’t follow her, but she certainly did. “Is that the only reason you left?”
“No. It became clear to me that I had no future there. I want a fresh start, a chance to make my own way in a new town. Pete, I’m honest and a really hard worker. I promise I won’t disappoint you. I’m more than capable of running your kitchen. I just need a chance to prove myself.”
She was nervous, sure, but she wasn’t lying to him. A man didn’t spend twenty-five years on the force without knowing when someone was lying. She didn’t fear whoever she ran from, but she was pissed as hell. Damn, what was with him and fiery Irish women? He just hoped when Bree got back, she and Skye got along. If not, he’d be up shit’s creek.
“I’ll start you out at forty-five thousand a year and you’ll be on probation for three months.”
She nodded with what looked like relief. Good, she didn’t blink at the salary, which meant it was enough. It also meant she wasn’t in any big financial trouble.
“After your probationary period, you’ll get a raise, benefits, and two weeks’ vacation a year, three weeks after five years.” He tossed an employee handbook on the top of his desk. “Read it and sign the last page. Get it back to me with your withholding and other tax information in the morning. You can start tomorrow.”
Skye smiled and Pete saw why Logan had been tripping over his own tongue for the last few hours. There was something special about her, something that ran deeper than just beauty—although there was plenty of that too. Logan was going to have his hands full with this one. It was going to be fun to watch.
“Thank you so much. You won’t regret it.”
“Just promise me one thing. If you have trouble with whoever or whatever you’re running from, you’ll come to me.”
She looked down at her feet for a long moment, raised her eyes to his, and nodded.
“I want a promise, Skye. I can help you out, but not if I don’t know what is going on.”
“I promise. It’s just—”
“I know, personal.” He watched her for another second, waiting for her to spill her guts, but the girl had whatever it was locked up so tight, it would take a crowbar to pry it loose. He’d give it time; she’d come around. Eventually, they all did or they didn’t last. “How are you on cash? Do you need an advance on your first paycheck?” He pulled out his billfold and counted out three hundred bucks.
Skye turned bright red, and put up her hand to stop him. “No, thank you for the offer, but I’m fine. I just need to find a place to stay, and Patrice thinks Rex’s apartment will work for me, so I’m going to take a look at it.”
Pete couldn’t help but smile. “You’ll like the little piglet.”
Skye’s face formed its own version of a question mark. “Patrice said it was a dog.”
“It is. She just sounds a little like a piglet. Pepperoni and D.O.G., Nicki’s dog, are best buddies—kinda like Mutt and Jeff.” He shook his head. “Rex and Nicki used to walk them together and take them to the dog park. You’ll have to bring Pepperoni over to play. They’re quite a pair.”
“I can’t believe that anyone would just hand his apartment and his dog over to a complete stranger. Heck, I’m not sure I can even afford the place.”
“I know Rex, and unless you are in a hell of a lot of debt and have massive bills to pay, I don’t foresee a problem when it comes to affording his apartment. As for the dog, Patrice is known for her ability to read people. If she trust
s you, Rex will too. Let me know if you need some cash to hold you over; we’ll work something out.”
“Thanks again for the offer, but I want to do this on my own.”
“God save me from independent women. I’m here if you change your mind.” He walked around his desk. Skye was already on her feet. He cleared his throat and she turned to face him. “Welcome to the family, Skye. That’s what we are here at the Crow’s Nest—one big, usually happy family. You just got yourself one hell of a job. Congratulations.”
Skye’s face lit up. “Thanks for the opportunity. I promise I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t. Just don’t forget that other promise you made me and we’ll be fine.”
She nodded and dashed out the door. His instincts had kept him alive the entire twenty-five years he’d been on the force and gave him what he needed to remain one step ahead while raising three boys; he just hoped they were still as sharp as ever. He had no reason to, but he trusted Skye—maybe not to tell the whole truth, but he trusted that she was a good person.
* * *
Patrice unlocked the apartment that turned out to be over an art gallery and almost next door to the Crow’s Nest. “Rex is kind of a clean freak, but you probably knew that as soon as you saw the kitchen. I swear he’s the only man alive who could pack up his stuff with an hour’s notice and be prepared to sublet his place. I spent the morning packing the rest of his clothes, his CDs, and such.” She placed the keys on a table next to the door. “The TV, DVR, and everything else stays. You’ll have to call Rex and talk about the rent, although I’m sure he’ll work with you. I haven’t had a chance to even go there yet with him, but I don’t imagine he’ll charge much. He’s been here forever and I think the apartment is rent-controlled.”
The door swung open and a little fawn-colored dog with a short nose, wrinkled forehead, and sausagelike body danced on her hind legs around Patrice’s ankles. Patrice leaned over and picked up the puggle, curling her tail under and holding her in the crook of her arm. “And this is Pepperoni.” Patrice handed the dog to Skye.
Skye stared into the big, slightly bugged-out brown eyes. “Aren’t you just the cutest little thing ever?” Pepperoni gave her face a bath with the longest tongue she’d ever seen come out of a dog so small. “Is she going to get any bigger?”
Patrice scrunched up her nose. “I don’t think so. She’ll be a year old in February. When Rex took her to the vet last, they said she was pretty much full-grown. She’s only about eighteen pounds, small for a puggle, but she was the runt of the litter. I brought her home with me last night, but my daughter Callie isn’t handling it well. Her eyes are already itchy and red. I was hoping with Pepperoni’s short hair it would be okay, but I just can’t see keeping Callie on allergy medicine for the duration.”
“I understand completely.” Skye set down the squirming pup and followed Patrice through the roomy apartment. It was an airy space with big windows and lots of light. There was a nice kitchen with all the bells and whistles—granite countertops, a small commercial stove, and tons of light. The furnishings were comfortable, leather couches, mission-style tables, and the bedroom was big enough to handle the king-sized bed and double dressers. The apartment had hardwood floors throughout, throw rugs, and a nice homey feel.
When Patrice caught her staring at the huge bed, she stopped beside her. “It’s a sleep-number bed.” She motioned to the controllers lying on the bedside table. “Rex got a king because he’s a big guy.”
Skye found herself smiling. “That’s something I realized when I cooked in his kitchen. I had to get a chair to reach some of the pans he had hanging above the workstation.”
“The bathroom is through here.” Patrice opened the door.
Skye peeked in. The bathroom was big and gorgeous. The apartment was perfect. “I’m just not sure I’m going to be able to afford it—especially if Rex wants the first and last months’ rent up front.”
Patrice waved her hand as if a little thing like money was nothing to get excited about. “Rex is more concerned about his renter taking care of his things and his dog than making money.”
“He’s not going to have a problem with you leaving his dog with a total stranger?”
Patrice smiled. “No, that’s why he asked me to handle it. He knows I’m a great judge of character and I have a really good feeling about you, Skye.”
She couldn’t believe this. First Pete hired her even though she refused to list her previous experience, and now Patrice was all but handing her the keys to an incredible apartment. She’d been shown more blind trust in the past twenty-four hours than in her entire life. Maybe people from New York just got a bad rap.
Pepperoni sat on Skye’s foot, looking up at her and holding what looked like a stuffed version of the puppet Lamb Chop in her little mouth.
“It looks as if Pepperoni has a good feeling about you too. Let’s give Rex a call and tell him you’re interested. I’m sure you two can work something out. It will be a real relief for him to know that you’re taking over for him at the Crow’s Nest. It’s killed him to leave Pete without a cook, not to mention leaving Pepperoni. If there were any way he could take her, he would have. He loves his little girl.”
Skye had to admit, Pepperoni was adorable.
After a conversation with Rex, they’d made a deal they could both live with. He was going to send a lease agreement out in a few days. He told her about caring for Pepperoni and she was surprised to find out the dog was used to sleeping with him. He gave her the lowdown on the kitchen staff, told her about the specials he’d planned for next week, filled her in on where the orders were in his desk, gave her his cell number in case she had any questions Harrison or Pete couldn’t answer, and wished her luck, thanking her for stepping into his shoes.
She had a smile on her face when she hung up. Pepperoni slept on her lap and Patrice sipped a diet soda she’d found in the fridge. “The place and the puppy are mine—for now at least.”
“Great. Now, are you going to use Rex’s towels and sheets, or do we need to take a run to Ikea? I have my car if you want to go.”
“Maybe after payday. For now, I’ll make do with Rex’s if it’s all the same to you.”
“Sure. I already washed his sheets and towels and changed the bedding. There’s a washer and dryer in the closet next to the bathroom.”
“Great. I guess all I need are the keys, and then I have to go back to the Crow’s Nest to get my things.”
“No, you don’t. The boys will be here—”
A knock at the door interrupted Patrice. “I texted Francis during your conversation with Rex.” She unlocked the door and opened it to Francis, Logan, Nicki, and a huge dog—an oversized puppy of questionable lineage. One ear stood up and the other flopped over.
Pepperoni jumped from Skye’s lap to the back of the couch and leaped off it like a cat, landing next to the dog that was easily five times her size. She planted her paws on his neck and nipped the bigger dog’s floppy ear, pulling it down to her height. The two danced around, licking each other and playing.
Nicki ran and grabbed the leash that hung on a hook by the door. “Francis said we can take Pepperoni and D.O.G. for a walk. Is that okay with you, Skye?”
“Sure, I guess.” Before she knew what was happening, they had Pepperoni in a harness. Francis, Patrice, and Nicki ushered the dogs out the door and left her alone with Logan.
“I brought your suitcase and a bottle of champagne to celebrate your new job and apartment.”
“Thanks, you didn’t have to do that.” She took the bottle from him. “Maybe we should wait until Francis and Patrice get back to open it.”
“They’ll probably be gone for a while. But we can wait if you’d like.” He sat on the couch and crossed one of his legs over the other like he was planning on a nice long visit.
She checked the label, another Billingsly vintage. It was an expensive bottle. She should know—she ordered the wine for all the Maxwell’s
restaurants and they carried the full line of Billingsly wines. “I don’t even know if I have champagne glasses.”
“You do. They’re in the cupboard over the dishwasher.”
She went around the bar that separated the kitchen from the living area and sure enough, there were champagne glasses; of course she’d need a chair to reach them.
Skye stepped back to get one and ran into a solid wall of man. Logan had snuck up behind and reached over her, taking down four glasses.
He didn’t touch her, but his heat seared her back. What was it with this guy? She slid to the left and stepped back to get away from him. Unfortunately, he did too. His arm wrapped around her was the only thing that kept her from falling over his gigantic feet. “Easy.” He placed the glasses on the counter before he released her.
She looked at him, sure that her face was the color of a fire engine. “Thanks.”
“I didn’t do that on purpose.”
“I didn’t say you did.”
“True. Look, I came over because I’m concerned we started off on the wrong foot. I got the distinct impression that you don’t like me much. Since we’re going to be working together, I thought that maybe we could start over. If I did anything to offend you—”
“You didn’t. I have no problem with you, Logan. And I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.”
“There’s no need to apologize. I just want us to be able to work together.”
“I don’t have a problem if you don’t. I can work with anyone for a month.” That had been her mantra since she found out when he was leaving.
His piercing brown eyes stared into hers. One brow slowly winged its way up toward his hairline.
Her heartbeat sped up and the blood rushing through her ears drowned out the hum of the refrigerator, the ticking of the clock, and the drone of traffic on Van Brunt Street. They were at an impasse. She’d probably said too much already, and it seemed as if he was waiting for her to continue. It would be a long, long wait. She knew when to keep her mouth shut, and this was one of those times.
