Meat

by Opal Carew

  She responded to his kiss, murmuring softly as his tongue swept inside her mouth, his hand gliding down her spine, then pressing on the small of her back, pulling her closer to him.

  But the feel of his masculine reaction to her shocked her back to reality. She pressed her hand flat against his chest.

  He released her lips.

  “I have work to do.” Her words came out a little too deep and throaty.

  “So do I, but this is more important.” He stroked her hair behind her ear. “I told you we had to talk, and I intend for us to do that right now. But first, I want you to tell me what Benjamin Miller told you about me on Friday.”

  She frowned. “Why do you think he told me anything about you?”

  “Because I confronted him. He wouldn’t tell me anything except that he cautioned you against seeing me.”

  “Then why are you asking me?” She tried to move away, but he grasped her arms.

  “Because I want to know what you think. I don’t want you to be afraid to be involved with me.”

  She shook her head, wanting to tell him that she didn’t want to be afraid either. That she wanted to fall in love with him—well, she’d already done that—and wanted to know they had a future together, but that so many things told her she would only be hurt if she followed that path.

  “But I am afraid. I’m afraid because you’re keeping secrets from me. And secrets are never good. If you have to hide who you are, then …” She shook her head. “Look, I’m sure you have your reasons, but I just can’t …” Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked them back. The thought of losing what she had with him, even now, was painful. If she allowed herself to get more involved with him … when he left … which she was sure he would do, given that he was simply here on a temporary assignment … it would be devastating.

  He tightened his grip on her arms. “But I don’t want there to be secrets between us. I want to tell you—”

  “Oh, excuse me.”

  Rebecca’s gaze jerked to the door to see Gretchen standing there. She drew away from Rex’s grip and put a few feet of distance between them.

  “I’m so sorry,” Gretchen said. “We had an appointment this morning, Chef Rex, and when you weren’t in your office, one of the staff told me they saw you come in here.”

  There was no explaining what Gretchen had just seen. The two of them so close together, clearly locked in an emotional discussion.

  “Should we move our meeting?” Gretchen asked.

  “No,” Rebecca interjected. “I have to get to work, so you two should carry on.”

  Rex sent her a sharp glance. “We’ll continue this conversation before you leave today.”

  Then he turned to Gretchen. As soon as the door closed behind them, Rebecca sank into her chair, and sucked in a deep breath.

  “Hey, want some coffee?”

  Rebecca glanced up to see Diane standing at the door to the office, holding a thermos of coffee and a mug.

  “Oh, that would be great. Thanks.”

  Diane entered and set the coffee on her table, then poured a cup and put it in front of Rebecca on the desk.

  “I saw the chef leave here a few minutes ago. He looked steamed. Is anything going on?”

  Rebecca glanced at her, wondering if she’d heard rumors about her and Rex.

  “Not really. He wants to talk to me about something … probably a new menu. We were interrupted because he had a meeting with Gretchen.”

  Diane sat down in the guest chair. “I doubt he’s spending any time coming up with a new menu for us.”

  Rebecca’s gaze jerked to her friend. “Why do you say that?”

  Diane’s tight-set features sent Rebecca’s anxiety level spiking. Diane pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and unfolded it, then set it on Rebecca’s desk.

  “Because of this.”

  Rebecca glanced at the paper, which seemed to be a report of some kind, with names and lists and …

  Oh, God. It was something Rex had written up. Obviously a work in progress. But in it he had started making recommendations and listing people. It was a rough draft and …

  As her gaze scanned the sheet, it locked on one sentence.

  Her heart crumpled.

  Rex was clearly advising that The Lavender Rose be closed, a recommendation he’d backed up with various figures comparing it with the other restaurants in the hotel.

  She sucked in a deep breath.

  Farther down in the report was a list of valued people. Probably people he felt should be kept on.

  Her name was not on the list.

  Everything around her seemed to stop. As if time itself had been suspended.

  “I don’t get why a chef is making recommendations like this,” Diane said, “but I get the feeling Chef Rex isn’t what he seems. That maybe he’s a consultant hired by the new owners.”

  Rebecca’s gaze shot to Diane, but she said nothing.

  “Can you talk to someone?” Diane asked. “Surely Benjamin could do something?”

  Rebecca shook her head as she gazed at the paper again. “I don’t know.” Then she dragged herself from her daze. “Where did you get this?” she asked.

  “I found it on the floor. It must have slipped out of Chef Rex’s folder.” Diane bit her lip. “But if you show it to anyone, please don’t tell them it was me who gave it to you. I don’t want to get in trouble. I should have just returned it to him, but”—she pursed her lips—“I’m sort of afraid of that guy.”

  Rebecca nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”

  Rex walked through the kitchen, hands linked behind his back, checking what each of the staff were doing. Some glanced nervously as he walked by, but he gave everyone nods of approval. They were all doing fine.

  As he approached some staff members who were slicing vegetables for salad, he noticed Rebecca enter the kitchen.

  “Chef Rex. May I have a word with you, please?” she asked, her tone very businesslike.

  “Of course.” He moved toward her.

  He was pleased she’d come to him rather than him having to chase her down again, but that pleasure faded when he noted the distress, tinged with anger, in her brown eyes.

  When he was a few steps away, she turned and walked toward his office. Despite his concern over what had upset her, he couldn’t help but watch the sway of her hips. Her tight skirt and tailored, form-fitting suit jacket made it impossible not to notice her delightful curves.

  She walked into his office, and he gestured to the round table by the corner windows, overlooking a wonderful view of the snowy street outside. Despite the cold, the sky was blue and sunlight glistened on the snowy landscape.

  She placed a folded sheet of paper on the tabletop, then smoothed it flat. His gaze fell on it and …

  What the hell?

  Chapter 14

  “How did you get that?” Rex demanded.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Rebecca said.

  He glanced at her. Oh, but it did. He had never printed off a copy of this report, so the only way she could have gotten it was by hacking into his computer, either by getting on his desktop and breaking the password or by hacking in from the hotel’s internal network.

  And that had broader implications than this one report, especially after the information he’d received from his computer security team this morning.

  According to that information, someone was coordinating thefts through high-priced supplies brought into the hotel, like Kobe beef, truffles, caviar sort of thing, high-end wine and alcohol, that it seemed the order quantities were being tampered with. The order numbers shown in the online reports last month did not match the physical packing sheets, so the staff accepting the orders would not have known there was a discrepancy. Somewhere along the way, someone had been collecting the difference between what the hotel paid for these items and what quantity of them it actually received. Not enough to be noticeable without directly comparing the online reports with the physical paper, but enough to b
ring someone quite a bit of cash over time.

  Although previous months had seemed to be okay, with a little digging one of his security guys had found that the accounting files had been tampered with to hide the discrepancies every month-end.

  What disturbed him most was that the tampered files had been changed by someone using Rebecca’s secure ID.

  No matter how damning the evidence, however, he would not be convinced that Rebecca was behind this.

  But now, for her to present him with this report that had so clearly been stolen from his account …

  It made no sense to him.

  “So does this mean you were hired by the new owners to investigate us?” she demanded. “To make recommendations about who to fire and who to keep?”

  His lips compressed. “Something like that.”

  She scowled, shaking her head.

  “I can’t believe you would do this. After what we’ve … the way we’ve been

  together …” She gazed at him, her doe-eyes gleaming, looking at once angry … and very, very vulnerable.

  His heart clenched. “I’ve been trying to talk to you since Friday.”

  “You were really going to tell me who you are?”

  “Yes.”

  Her hands clenched tightly together. “How can I believe that?”

  He took her hand. “By having faith in what we have.”

  She tugged her hand from his grasp, anger flaring in her eyes.

  “I don’t even know what that is.” Her gaze darted to his. “I don’t know who you are. Everything I thought I knew about you is a lie. There’s no future for us because”—she shook her head—“there’s never been an us. Just me and someone who was lying about who he is.”

  “I hid my real identity, yes, but I never lied about how I feel about you.”

  “But how could you get involved with me … how could you sleep with me … when you knew you were going to tear away everything that was important to me? My job. My friends. This place I love so much.”

  “Because I thought I might be important to you, too. And if you’d just let me explain—”

  “Are you recommending The Lavender Rose be closed?” she demanded, cutting him off.

  His lips tightened. “Yes.”

  “Then there’s nothing more to say.”

  She stood up and started toward the door.

  He strode after her, then grasped her arm. “I want to explain. There’s more you need to know.”

  When she turned to face him, he saw the tears shimmering in her eyes, and his heart ached.

  “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”

  He grasped her shoulders, his gaze locking on hers. “Well, you’re going to hear it.”

  She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip. He had to make her listen.

  Her body quivered under his grasp, and he could see she was trembling. She stared at him, the flash of anger quickly quelled by the brimming moisture in her eyes.

  He couldn’t help himself. He drew her closer and pressed his lips to hers, tasting her sweetness. She hesitated, stiff in his arms. But she didn’t pull away. He coaxed her with the tender pressure of his mouth … a delicate sweep of his tongue over her lips … and then he nudged inside. She drew in a soft, quivering breath, sending heated desire pulsing through him.

  “Rebecca, please,” he said in a persuasive tone. “Listen to what I have to say.”

  She gazed at him uncertainly, looking like a trapped animal. She drew in a deep breath, then …

  “Burn.” She exhaled the word in a rough whisper.

  He stopped cold. That was her safe word. He’d promised that if she ever said it, he would stop what he was doing immediately.

  He’d intended its use during sex, if she felt overwhelmed.

  His jaw twitched as he fought the urge to press on, but he’d made a promise, and he’d stand by it.

  He released her and stepped back. Their gazes remained locked for a split second longer—and he thought he saw uncertainty flicker in her eyes—then she turned and scurried to the door.

  Rebecca spent the next couple of hours helping the serving staff through the busy lunch-hour rush, then as soon as things quieted down, she retired to her office to finish up the monthly reports. The afternoon zipped by as she sat alone in her office working.

  Diane knocked on her open door and peered inside.

  “I know you’re almost finished for the day, but I brought you a snack.” Diane smiled. “Claude, the new pastry chef, just made a batch of chocolate éclairs for a party this evening, and I snagged a couple for us.”

  At Rebecca’s smile, Diane stepped into the office with a tray holding two small plates, a coffee thermos, and a couple of cups.

  “How did you manage that?” Rebecca said.

  She shrugged. “The guy’s got a thing for me.”

  Diane set an éclair on Rebecca’s desk, along with a paper napkin, and then poured her a cup of coffee. She sat in the guest chair and slumped back, sipping her coffee.

  “You’re being extra nice to me today,” Rebecca said. “I’m starting to feel spoiled.”

  Diane shrugged. “You’ve had a tough month, and it just keeps getting more stressful around here.”

  That sure was the truth.

  “So I heard you went to see Chef Rex this morning,” Diane said. “And you seemed pretty upset when you got back. Did you … uh … talk to him about the report?”

  Rebecca hesitated. She wouldn’t ordinarily tell any of the staff about the tensions among the management, but she trusted Diane, and in fact had been grooming Diane to be promoted into management herself.

  “I did. I’ll just say that it seems clear they will be closing The Lavender Rose.” She compressed her lips. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what will happen to your job—whether they’ll move you to one of the other restaurants—but you know I’ll speak on your behalf.”

  Diane nodded. “Of course. Thank you.”

  Rebecca knew she didn’t have to tell Diane to keep the information between them.

  “Well, until that happens, we have to keep moving along as best we can,” Diane said. “I know you said you’d be working on the monthly reports. Are you almost done? Because I thought I could get on your computer before I leave and install some new plug-ins in your browser. It should speed things up for you a bit.”

  “I’m pretty close.”

  Rebecca picked up the éclair and took a bite. Cream squirted onto her fingers and she licked it off, then wiped her hand on the napkin.

  “This is a bit messy to eat while I’m working.”

  “The point is you’re supposed to stop and take a break.” Diane smiled. “I know. Why don’t you sit here and get away from what you’re doing and I’ll take a minute to install those things now?”

  “Sure.” Rebecca saved the file she was working on and closed the word processor, then stood up. “It’s all yours.”

  She walked around the desk and sat in the chair Diane had vacated, then enjoyed her éclair as she watched her friend type on the keyboard.

  “That looks like pretty serious stuff the way you’re frowning,” Rebecca observed as she watched Diane’s expression grow tight.

  Diane glanced at her distractedly. “Oh, no. One of the plug-ins just crashed and I don’t know why. I …” She leaned forward, her gaze a laser focus on the screen. “Oh, damn.” She gazed at Rebecca. “Sorry, I did something wrong and the system crashed. It’s going to take a while to get it booted back up and figure out what’s wrong.” She glanced at her watch. “Look, I know you usually leave at five, so why don’t you let me finish the reports for you?”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Rebecca said. “I don’t want you to have to stay late.”

  “I don’t mind. I’m actually hoping to meet Claude after he’s finished in the kitchen for a drink. This gives me something to do until then.”

  Rebecca hesitated. She knew Diane could handle the reports. She’d take
n over as manager for Rebecca while she’d been away and she’d done them then. But Rebecca didn’t like handing off her work, and she could get it done tomorrow, if need be.

  Her cell phone buzzed and she pulled it from her pocket. A quick flick showed a text from Benjamin about a meeting first thing in the morning to meet the new owner. All department heads were required to attend.

  Her stomach flip-flopped.

  This was it. They must be announcing the changes tomorrow.

  Tomorrow the fate of The Lavender Rose … of her staff … and of her future here … would be sealed.

  “You look white as a ghost. Is something wrong?” Diane asked.

  “Just a meeting tomorrow. Earlier than I’d like.” She turned to the other woman. “So I will take you up on your offer and head home right now.”

  “Okay. Get a good night’s sleep.”

  Rebecca nodded as she grabbed her coat.

  But she was sure that wouldn’t happen. In fact, she doubted she’d sleep at all.

  An insistent knocking on her door finally dragged Rebecca from her slumber. She grabbed her robe and wrapped it around herself as she hurried to the door. Anything to make the noise stop. Her head was pounding as a result of her overindulgence in wine last night.

  She peered through the peephole and saw Gretchen on the other side. She opened the door.

  “What are you doing here?” Rebecca asked.

  “I thought I’d stop by and give you a ride this morning.”

  Rebecca frowned. She didn’t think her place was even on the way to the hotel from Gretchen’s.

  But she didn’t question that. She just clung to her robe and said, “Look, I’m feeling lousy today, so I think I’ll just call in sick.”

  Gretchen slid past Rebecca and into the apartment.

  “No way. I’m here to make sure you come to the meeting. I know you had a blowup with Chef Rex yesterday and he was concerned you might not show up today, so he asked me to come and get you on my way in.”

  Rebecca arched her eyebrow. “Since when do you do what Chef Rex tells you to do?”