Ménage in Manhattan: The Complete 5-Book Ménage Romance Collection

by Tara Crescent

  All three look up with an expression of shock as we enter.

  But their surprise is nothing compared to the betrayal that I feel.

  “Mom? Dad?” My voice is low; my skin feels cold and clammy. I don’t want to believe my own parents are capable of such an act. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that with mice on the loose in my kitchen, someone will phone in a tip to the health department, who will promptly shut Piper’s down.

  This time, the sabotage will be fatal to my restaurant. Once the public finds out why we were shut down, they’ll avoid Piper’s like the plague. We’ll lose money, hand over fist. We won’t be able to survive this.

  Wyatt hurries in and takes in the scene in front of us. He turns to me, and there’s sadness on his face. “I’m sorry, Piper,” he says softly. Wyatt understands, more than Owen, how deep this act of betrayal cuts. He too has been betrayed by a parent.

  A mouse skitters by us in search of a place to hide. Owen swears. “How many?” he snarls at my parents. “How many mice were in that cage?”

  My parents don’t reply, but Kimmie does. “A dozen.”

  Wyatt spares her a glance. “You let them in tonight?” he demands. “How much did they pay you?”

  “Two hundred bucks,” she gloats. “I’ve worked here for twelve years and the three of you waltz in and order me around? I’d have done it for free.”

  “You’re fired,” Wyatt snaps. “Leave.”

  Owen makes a sudden dive and comes up with a wriggling mouse. “Eleven to go.” His voice is grim. “Piper, can you run home and grab Jasper? Let’s make that cat earn his keep.”

  I should act, but I can’t. My heart is heavy and my throat’s choked up. “You did this?” I whisper to my parents. “You wanted me to fail so badly that you’d resort to this?”

  My father doesn’t look me in the eyes. My mother stands erect, her spine stiff. “I just want what’s best for you, Piper. I want you to come back home, find a nice man and get married. Not spend the rest of your life doing menial labor.”

  My control shatters at her words. “I don’t need to find a nice man,” I hiss at them. “I have two. You hear that, mother? I’m dating both Wyatt and Owen. At the same time.”

  She looks horrified. Earlier this evening, I would have been devastated by her reaction, but not any more. I’m far too heartsick to feel anything other than numb. “I think you should both go,” I continue. “You’ve done your damage. Please. Just go.”

  Three hours later, all twelve mice have been found and the kitchen has been scrubbed down. Jasper was great at finding the rodents, but he didn’t realize he was supposed to kill them. Instead, he wanted to play with them, and was quite disappointed when Owen took them away from him and put them in the cage.

  “They’re from the pet store,” Owen says in disgust, looking at the trembling creatures. “Poor things, they’re frightened out of their minds.”

  Wyatt’s looking a little green as well. “Are you scared of mice?” I ask him.

  He shudders. “I found a nest of them once in a pile of newspapers. Ever since then, I’ve been terrified of them.” He frowns. “I know it’s a ridiculous fear.”

  I put my arm around him. Owen makes sure the cage is latched shut, and comes around to hug me. “I’m sorry,” he mutters into my hair. “Your parents suck.”

  I half-laugh, half-sob. “They really do.” I cling onto them, seeking comfort in their strength. “What happens now? I’m assuming a health inspector will show up to check on Piper’s tomorrow.”

  “There’s no sign that anything’s amiss,” Owen responds. “They can’t shut you down unless there’s evidence that something’s wrong.”

  “Kimmie could say she’s seen mice in the kitchen,” I point out. “She’s a waitress here. They’d believe her.”

  Wyatt shakes his head. “I talked to her before she left.” His voice is cold as ice. “We have her on the camera feed helping your parents let the mice out. That’s a criminal act. I made Kimmie aware that if I ever heard from her again, I’d call the cops on her.”

  “Oh.” That’s good news, but I don’t know if I have it in me to be hopeful. Not anymore.

  “Come to bed,” Owen says. “It’s really late. Let’s stop worrying about what’s going to happen tomorrow and get a good night’s sleep.” He grabs the cage of squealing animals. “Where’s Tomas?” he says with a grin. “He seems like a competent sort. I’m sure he’ll sort these guys out.”

  I exhale. Tomas is a softie, and in addition, he’s vegetarian. The mice will be just fine.

  But me? I’m not sure.

  59

  Owen

  Every strike brings me closer to the next home run.

  Babe Ruth

  The next day, the three of us are on tenterhooks. Every time someone walks into the restaurant, we brace ourselves, thinking they’re from the Health Department. But the hours tick by, and an inspector doesn’t appear.

  The format of the final is different from the prior rounds. The good news is that there’s no public vote. The bad news? The final round is about being able to cook under pressure. In forty-five minutes, the kitchen must make as many dishes as they can from their menu, and they’ll be judged for speed as well as taste.

  I’ve eaten at the two restaurants that are Piper’s competitors today. Katsura is a Japanese restaurant that has one of the best tasting menus in the city, and Cava is an eatery with Spanish and Central American influences. At both places, the chefs are top-notch, and they genuinely care about their food. Win or lose, Piper is in very good company.

  The cameras have been set up in the kitchen and on the restaurant floor. Josef, Kevin, and Salim are doing some last minute prep. Piper walks back and forth, her nerves impossible to conceal. I’m not worried. The moment the cooking starts, she’ll snap into the zone.

  The front door opens. I look up, thinking it’s one of the judges, here to start the countdown. Instead, Piper’s parents enter.

  Both Wyatt and I walk toward them immediately. Wyatt’s face is a mask of anger. “You’re not welcome here,” he says to Piper’s father. “Didn’t you do enough damage last night?”

  He flinches, but doesn’t waver. “I want to speak to my daughter.”

  Fuck. I’d happily throw the two of them out on the street, but there’s no guarantee that they won’t come back when the cameras are running. As much as I’d like to spare Piper the trauma, I’m helpless. “Stay here.” I glare at them. “I don’t want you anywhere near the kitchen.”

  Going to the back, I signal to Piper. “I’m sorry, baby,” I tell her in a low voice when she nears. “Your parents are at the front. They say they want to talk to you.”

  60

  Piper

  I should have known this wasn’t over.

  I count to ten to calm myself, and follow Owen out. I’m still angry. Sleep hasn’t lessened my bone-deep rage at the extent to which my parents would go to sabotage me.

  “What do you want?” I ask them bluntly as soon as I see them. I note with faint satisfaction that they look terrible this morning. Guilt does not suit my mother’s complexion.

  My dad speaks up. “Piper,” he says, looking uncomfortable. “I want to apologize.” He continues hastily, as if he’s afraid I might throw them out at any moment. “We went too far, your mother and I. We were so concerned about your life in New York that we forgot that it is your life to live.”

  My mother nods in agreement. “I saw Angelina and Janice plan the wedding, and I wanted that for you and me,” she confesses. “I went a little crazy.”

  “You salted the gravy when you played hostess, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” she confesses. “Before these two,” she says, giving Owen and Wyatt a withering look, “you would have come back home when your restaurant failed. Merritt Grant gave it four or five months. Then you met these men and you started to turn things around. I thought I was going to lose you to New York forever, and I panicked.”

  Bil
e rises in my throat.

  My dad takes a step forward. “We were wrong,” he repeats. “We shouldn’t have interfered. I’m sorry, Piper.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t approve of this relationship of yours.” He glares at Wyatt and Owen.

  My voice is hard. “I don’t care whether you approve.”

  “I can understand that.” His lips twist into a grimace. “I know we haven’t behaved very well, but you’re still our daughter. I hope you can find your way to forgiving us one day. Good luck tonight, Piper.”

  I watch them leave, frozen with shock. Wyatt puts his arm around me. “Are you going to be okay?” he asks, his voice gentle.

  “You guessed it was my mother from the start,” I reply quietly. “I didn’t want to believe you.”

  His hand rubs my back, up and down, in a soothing, comforting stroke. “I didn’t want to believe me either,” he admits. “I wish I could have spared you the pain.”

  Owen’s head swivels toward me. He’s been keeping watch for the judges. “Anita Tucker is walking up the street,” he warns. “She’ll be here in a minute.”

  The hurt I feel will take a while to fade, but for now, I have to refocus. I’ve endured one act of sabotage after the other. The best revenge would be to win Can You Take The Heat?. And tonight, I intend to give it all I’ve got.

  61

  Piper

  Fall seven times and stand up eight.

  Japanese Proverb

  Three hours later, we’re lined up in the boardroom of Yelp’s Manhattan office. In true reality-TV fashion, Maisie’s assembled the friends and family of each chef in the audience. In my corner, I have Owen and Wyatt, Gabby, Dominic, Carter and Noah, Wendy, Daniel, and Sebastian.

  “Bailey sends her love from Argentina,” Daniel tells me when I give him a questioning look.

  Sebastian grins. “And she told us we had to be here.”

  I chuckle. “You know Maisie Hayes is going to gush over you? It isn’t every day we have a two-Michelin star chef in our presence.”

  “Will you knock that off?” Sebastian says, aggrieved. “In any case, you appear well on your way to your first star.” He gives Wyatt and Owen a dry look. “Feel free to thank me when that happens, you two.”

  Wyatt snorts. “Don’t hold your breath.”

  We’re just chatting to ease the strain. The crew is setting up the stage. Each of the chefs will have a long table in front of them, with each dish they made during the forty-five minute time frame. Right now, a couple of guys in black t-shirts are arguing over lighting. Tell me who won, I want to scream. Just get the suspense over with.

  Of course, if they did that, they wouldn’t have much of a show. Maisie has some pretty sharp showbiz instincts. I’m willing to bet that in six months, she’s going to have her own show on TV.

  “Alright,” Maisie calls out after about ten minutes. “Chef Jackson, Chef Garcia, Chef Nakamura, will you please get in position? We’re ready to get going.”

  My heart beats faster. It’s only a silly contest, Piper, I tell myself, trying to calm down. You’re with Wyatt and Owen. You’ve already won.

  But I’m lying. I have professional pride, and I definitely want to win.

  Forty minutes later, I’m ready to hit Maisie on the head with a piece of battered fish. She’s drawing out the tension, building up the suspense, and I’m ready to scream. So far, she’s made each of us introduce ourselves and our dishes. Then the judges have pretended to taste each dish, even though the food is cold by now, and even though they already did their real tasting earlier. “It’s for TV,” the producer explains when we gets restive.

  Finally, the judges are ready to make their decision. George Nicolson steps forward. “This was a hard choice,” he says solemnly. “We have to choose between three exceptionally talented chefs today.”

  “Chef Nakamura,” he turns to the Japanese man. “Every meal I’ve eaten at Katsura has been impeccable. The presentation is beautiful, and the food, superb.”

  My heart hammers in my chest. I’m so nervous I can’t breathe.

  “Chef Garcia.” Anita Tucker addresses the head chef of Cava. “What can I say? Throughout the contest, we’ve come to identify Cava with bold, innovative cuisine, and today, you knocked it out of the park.”

  My palms are sweaty. I try to wipe them discreetly on my chef’s whites. My knees quake. What are they going to say about me?

  “Chef Jackson.” Maisie Hayes smiles at me. “Piper’s was our dark horse entry. We knew the other restaurants in the contest, but you came out of nowhere with your modern take on Southern food.”

  I’m not sure if Maisie’s praising me or damning me. I paste a fake smile on my face. My stomach churns.

  “Three very deserving restaurants,” she says to all of us. “And if we could award three winners, we would. Unfortunately, we’re forced to choose.”

  “George, Anita, and I have conferred and we’ve made our choice,” she continues. “Our winner demonstrated, week after week, that they had what it takes to succeed in a very competitive field. They dealt with one obstacle after the other, and they kept going in the face of adversity. And never once did they take their focus off the food.”

  I want to throw up.

  The lights in the studio dim, and a drum-roll begins to play. A wide smile breaks out on Maisie’s face. “Piper Jackson, you’re the winner! Congratulations!”

  The spotlight shines down on me, and confetti rains from the ceiling. I barely notice. I’m looking at Wyatt and Owen. A huge smile breaks out on Wyatt’s face; Owen pumps his fist in the air.

  I’m sure there’s something I’m supposed to do right now for the TV show, but I don’t care. I run toward them and throw my arms around them. “You did it,” Wyatt says, and there’s so much pride in his voice that tears prick at my eyelids.

  My friends are jumping up and down, cheering. Gabby’s hugging Noah. Daniel and Sebastian high-five each other. Wendy dances a little jig, laughing with happiness. Josef looks shocked while the rest of my team, Kevin, Salim, Gina, Sasha, and Petra, beam with joy. Scenes of celebration are all around me.

  I feel a momentary pang that my parents aren’t among the audience, then I dismiss it. They made their choice. I’ve made mine. In time, the rift between the three of us might heal, but their many acts of sabotage are too fresh in my mind.

  “You’re wrong,” I tell Wyatt. “We did it.”

  62

  Wyatt

  Every battle is won before it’s ever fought.

  Sun Tzu, The Art of War

  I’m still grinning when I show up the next morning to see my father, Owen and Piper at my side. “Funny,” Owen remarks dryly. “I thought you’d be angrier about this meeting.”

  Piper puts her arm around me affectionately. “Leave him be,” she tells Owen, a smile in her voice. “This is a much better reaction than I expected.”

  I look down at her. “Well, thanks to you, my little lawbreaker, I hold all the cards. Why shouldn’t I be in a good mood?”

  I feel strangely at peace. A huge weight has been lifted off me. My entire life, I’ve been ashamed of my mother’s hoarding. For as long as I can remember, my parents have been a source of tension, not comfort. Today marks an end to that.

  Both Piper and Owen have, in their own way, learned to leave their past behind in the last few days. After they tried to destroy her restaurant, Piper’s realized the futility of trying to please her parents, and doesn’t want anything to do with them anymore.

  For seventeen years, Owen has kept the wound of his family’s deaths alive. By telling Mendez he never wants to hear from him again, Owen has finally accepted that it’s time to heal.

  And I’m ready to tell my dad to fuck off.

  As before, my father shows up promptly, a security guard at his side. “Well?” he demands, as soon as he sees me. “Do you have my money?”

  My father would make a good poker player. The photos have been stolen; the negatives are gone. He has no leverage
on me anymore, but he hides it well. I guess he’s hoping he can bluster his way through this meeting.

  I don’t want a long conversation with Jack Lawless. There will be no negotiation.

  “No.” I give him a cold look. “The photos are gone, aren’t they? You’ve lost your only weapon.” I stand up. Though I try, I can’t conceal the sadness. “All you had to do was say you were sorry once, and I would have given you everything. All you had to do was take responsibility for abandoning a thirteen year old child, but you didn’t care about me. You never did. It was always about Jack Lawless and nobody else.”

  My father opens his mouth to say something, but I shake my head. I’m done listening. Nothing he can say can change anything. “You don’t have any power over me anymore,” I tell him. “If you show up here, you’ll be asked to leave. You can get drunk and follow me around; I don't care. All your power came from the fact that I gave a damn.” I look down on him. “No more.”

  Owen rises to his feet as well. “The security guard will escort you out.”

  As I watch Jack Lawless leave, I take a deep breath. Piper and Owen are at my side.

  The past doesn’t weigh me down anymore, and the future is bright.

  Epilogue

  Piper

  Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.

  Søren Kierkegaard

  Thanksgiving Day...

  Piper’s is officially shut for the holiday, but you wouldn’t know it from the number of people at my restaurant. For the first time in my life, I’ve decided not to go to New Orleans for the weekend. Instead, I’m hosting a celebratory party, and I’ve invited all my friends.