by Tracy Ewens
“Well, you would know all about sweating in the kitchen, wouldn’t you?” Logan shot back.
Kara stopped cold. No more games, no more comments. This was her father’s campaign. There were important people here and she was to act like a lady at all times. She could hear her mother’s voice in her head. She froze and hoped the warning stare she was sending his way would work.
“You’re good on the counter too, if memory serves,” Logan said.
Kara didn’t know her next move as their eyes squared off. Just as she was about to resort to her pleading look, Logan’s eyes softened. He smiled, but not at her.
“I’m Logan. Nice to meet you, finally. It’s a pleasure hosting your dad at my place,” he said, extending his hand to Grady.
Kara turned her back to them and grabbed a drink off a passing tray.
“Grady. Good to meet you,” she heard her perpetually gracious brother say. “This is your place? It’s fantastic.”
“Thanks. It’s a real labor of love.” Logan looked around his restaurant and then his eyes landed on her again.
Her heart was out of control at this point. What if he said something to her brother? What if he mentioned Paris?
Get ahold of yourself, Kara. It’s not like he’s going to say, “Hey, did you know I once brought your sister to the point of waking up the neighbors, using only my tongue, and they screamed at her in French?” Kara laughed at the thought and snorted. Oh boy, things were certainly going downhill.
“Been open just over three months,” Logan continued and thankfully shifted his focus back to Grady.
“Well done, man. This used to be something didn’t it? Was it a garage?”
“Hardware store and a lumber yard.”
“Right, I see it now. Cool building. I love what you’ve done. And the name, The Yard. Perfect.”
“Thanks. Can I get you guys anything?”
Kara spun around to that smug smile on his face again. No way she was letting him win this. First he lurked and now he was enjoying himself at her expense.
“This food is atrocious,” flew out of her mouth.
“No, it’s not.” He shook his head slowly and stepped toward her.
Damn it, damn it. Kara stepped back.
“I mean, seriously what were you going for here? The spices are all wrong, flat even.” She continued down a path she desperately wanted to exit, but turning and running from the building was not an option. Bitch was her only choice.
“Nope, the flavors are right on and you know it.”
“Maybe this just isn’t my speed. My palate is a bit more sophisticated than backyard barbecue.”
Logan raised his eyebrow and held her gaze. He was poised for her next move, still smug. Damn it, nothing was working.
“That is what you’re going for, right?” She examined his restaurant. “Barefoot backyard meat grillin’? You pairin’ this with some bathtub gin from the bar there, Logan?” she finished, mocking the casual comfort of his restaurant that she secretly loved.
Logan shook his head slowly, stepped into her again, and Kara couldn’t move. He was so close she could feel his body heat as he reached past her and ran his thumb along the plate Kara had set down before she’d started a game she was already losing.
“Looks like you managed to get some of this atrocious food down after all. Empty plates don’t lie.” Logan brought his thumb to his mouth and sucked. “Damn near perfect spice, I’d say.” He smirked and walked away. “Great seeing you again, Kara. Be sure to stop by anytime.”
Game, set, match. Damn it!
She turned to find herself all alone in her humiliation. Grady and Kate had probably slowly backed away. She tried not to stomp—it was childish to stomp—and yet she found herself stomping very hard all the way to the ladies’ room.
Well, that had been fun, Logan thought, pushing through the kitchen door from the bar. He could practically feel her glare on the back of his neck as she followed behind him and then cut into the bathroom. The warmth felt good, kind of like going outside on a summer day after being in the air conditioning. The heat was back, but Logan didn’t mind. He’d always preferred crazy Kara. Crazy curly hair, crazy colors, crazy in bed. Logan smiled at the memory and then shook his head. Get back to work, idiot.
Once a liar, always a liar, that’s what his brother, Garrett, had told him when he was thirteen and busted for smoking in the garage. It had been his first time and even though he had managed to throw the cigarette behind the woodpile when he heard Garrett coming, the smoke lingered. Garrett asked him if he’d been stupid enough to smoke, pushed him a little, and then leered at him and said, “Think before you answer. Once a liar, always a liar.” Logan had fessed up, never touched cigarettes again, and remembered his brother’s words to this day. He hadn’t seen Kara coming the first time, but oh, he saw her for who she was this time.
He still wasn’t sure why she was pissed. Was it because he’d seen her damn near having an orgasm over his brisket? No shame in that, it was great brisket. He’d smiled when she'd glanced up and caught him watching her. Why the hell she needed to then rip his food apart, he would probably never understand. He was the one who should be pissed, and even that was a long time ago. He gave up trying to understand Kara Malendar the day he learned her real name. None of it mattered now—he’d seen her, spoken to her—now it was done and time to move on.
The event was in full swing and it seemed like it was going well. That’s what was important.
“What the hell was that?” Kara burst through the kitchen door clearly marked “Staff Only.”
“Back so soon?” Logan barely spared her a glance.
Kara put her hands on her hips. She was in black jeans and some red-purple-colored blouse. What was that color, raspberry maybe? It didn’t matter; in any color, she was still too thin and entirely too smooth. Her hair was smoothed down and tamed and there was even something smooth and staged about her movements.
“Cut it out, Logan. What are you doing?”
“Just playing the game, princess.”
“Don’t call me that.” She gestured to the front of the restaurant. “I don’t need anyone knowing my past.”
“You mean your dirty past. Wait, does that make me the dirty little secret?”
Kara rolled her eyes, losing a little of her smooth.
“You’re an idiot.”
Logan laughed. “I must be doing something right because you’re back here, all flushed and pissed. It’s kind of hot, I don’t mind saying.”
“Look at me.” She approached and put both hands on the counter next to Logan.
“I’m looking.” He finished up sorting through cherry tomatoes, as if he and Kara were talking about the most banal thing. No way she would see that he was ruffled in the slightest or that he could see down her shirt to the lacy bra holding what he knew from experience were damn near perfect breasts.
“My family is here tonight. You have no right to go out there a . . . and say those types of things to me.”
“Okay, but you can rip my place apart in front of important, possibly influential customers? How’s that fair? I had to do something to shut you up. We’ve only been open a few months. A mouth like yours . . .”
No doubt Kara was biting the side of that mouth, most likely to keep herself from smacking him. He’d deserved it at that point, but he couldn’t seem to stop playing.
“A mouth like that could get me, I mean my place, into trouble,” he finished and then wiped his hands and turned to lean up against the counter.
“Is this some kind of game to you?” she asked.
He could tell she was trying to calm down.
“I don’t do games, Kara.”
“Neither do I.”
“Oh, princess, you’re the whole damn toy store.”
“Please, just stop,” she pleaded and he caved.
Logan let out a breath. “I’m not playing with you. I mean I was out there, but you were being . . . nasty. You’re piss
ed because you had to be here and you were taking it out on my food. Not cool. By the way, I saw you scarfing down the brisket. Do they feed you in the ivory tower?”
Kara shot him a warning look and he could tell she was teeing up for some hysterical, crazy lady rant.
“I do not scarf.”
Logan raised an eyebrow. “Sort of looked that way.”
“I was hungry and . . . I don’t owe you an explanation.”
“True, but the food is not bad. It’s damn good to be more specific. Make sure you mention that and stay objective if The Yard is ever chosen by your almighty newspaper for review.”
“Your food is . . . decent.”
Logan laughed. “Oh man, that’s worse than bad. Decent is the kiss of death.”
Kara smiled. He could tell she didn’t mean to, but he eased them back into fun banter. He was still poking, just not as hard.
“Fine. Your food, at least what I tasted, was good. As for the review, you don’t need to worry about that. You’ve barely settled in. I’m sure the Times won’t be interested at this point.”
Logan scratched the back of his head. “Okay, well that’s good to know. I’m sure you’ll let me know when I’m worthy. I’ve got work to do, so if you could . . .”
He gestured to the door and saw Kara flush with what seemed like embarrassment. She was being asked to leave and even though he didn’t really know Kara Malendar, he guessed she wasn’t used to that.
“Right. Fine. Well, please refrain from sharing childish references to our . . . whatever the hell that was.” She turned to leave.
“Our time in the city of love? Our brief fling?”
Kara turned with a look that ordered him to stop. Yeah, Logan was never one for orders.
“Our little adventure, maybe? Oh, I’ve got it: our hot, steamy, up-against-the-wall, on-the-floor—”
He stopped when Kara left, flinging the door closed behind her, and then his body rumbled with laughter. That had been fun, maybe a little too much fun because at one point Logan wanted to push her up against the wall and hold her hands above her while he—
“We’re stretching the tomato garlic salad, but we’re going to need more pretty fast.” Travis’s voice cut into Logan’s fantasy just in time. He handed up the salad.
“Perfect, I think they’re loving us!” Travis was like an excited kid.
“I think so,” was all Logan managed and then he went to the back sink to splash cold water on his face.
He was either stupid or needed to get laid because nowhere in his right, rational mind did getting anywhere near Kara Malendar make sense.
Once a liar, always a liar. Yeah, yeah. Shut the hell up, Garrett, Logan thought, soaking his face once more.
Chapter Five
After another busy weekend, Logan was up before the sun. He swam almost 4,000 meters in the hour he’d set aside for the gym. He wasn’t much of a gym guy. He preferred getting his exercise outdoors, but lately it felt as if he spent every minute at The Yard, so an hour at the gym was all he could squeeze in. Logan needed to do something every morning to get his body going and his head together.
He learned the value of a sore and happy body in high school. At six foot three and two hundred and twenty pounds, he was the biggest swimmer for the Bedford High Eagles. Garrett had given him crap and used to shoot his Speedos across the living room at him, but his family was always in the stands cheering him on. When he went to UCLA, Logan got sick of being called “big guy,” so he decided to use his size and play water polo. He loved the competition and camaraderie, but now that he was an adult, he appreciated the peace and quiet of simply swimming laps.
He was showered and throwing his bag into his truck by 7 a.m. He needed to be at the restaurant by 7:30 when the meat delivery arrived.
He turned the lights on in the kitchen, just as Anna and Lacey pulled up in their signature Mini Cooper delivery car. Both women were trained butchers, second generation, and local. They were old-school, from the way they treated their animals to the way they cut their meat. All of their animals were pasture raised and grew up naturally. It was slower, but it was fair, to Logan’s mind. The things done to animals in the name of mass-produced food was sickening and he sought out like-minded vendors.
“Hey there gorgeous.” Anna loaded up a cart with his meat order. Logan had recently started working with them and they delivered his order personally. He imagined after a while he would no longer get all the love and attention, so he took advantage of it while he could.
“How are my two favorite butchers?” He held the door for them.
“Pretty sure we’re your only butchers, honey.” Lacey smiled, pushing another cart through the door.
“We better be.” Anna winked at him as she passed.
“How are things, ladies?” Logan asked and locked the door behind them.
“Things are good. We got a new sausage maker, which is sort of like a Tiffany box to us.” Anna laughed loading the brown-paper-wrapped bundles onto the counter. Logan had been impressed the first time they had delivered. Their work was immaculate, right down to the way each package was wrapped, tied with white string, and marked with black wax crayon.
“We have a new apprentice. He’s a little squeamish so far, so we’ve got him working the counter until he gets it together.” Lacey helped load the last of the order. “And, we just started a new class.”
“Yeah, we’re calling it The Whole Hog. It’s a class on, well butchering a whole hog. We go over how ours are raised, the humane way to slaughter, and how to cut properly and use the whole animal,” Anna chimed in with an excitement that filled the kitchen.
“That’s incredible,” Logan said. “Are you getting many takers?”
“Three local butchers so far and two from out of state. The response has been fantastic.”
“You’re changing the world, ladies. Well, at least California.”
“Hey, that’s a start.”
They all laughed and went over the order. They’d run out of chicken thighs and promised to add them to next week’s order, but everything else was there. The lamb Travis had wanted Logan to ask about would not be a problem. Logan gave them each a cup of coffee to go and thanked them for doing what they do.
As they were leaving, Travis arrived. Logan fired up the music.
“Sorry I’m late. Man, let’s just say handcuffs are not all they’re cracked up to be,” Travis declared putting his helmet away. Logan was about to beg him to stop speaking, when Makenna suddenly came swirling into the kitchen. She grabbed Paige’s lunch box, kissed Logan on the cheek, and thanked him—for what he had no idea. Before he could ask her, she was gone.
“Any idea what that was about?” Logan asked Travis. Travis shrugged and another day at The Yard was underway.
“Olivia, I really don’t think there’s a story here. They’ve barely been open for three months and from what I can see it’s a slow go.” Kara sat on the opposite side of her editor’s desk, feeling like it was a little too early in the day for this conversation.
“Didn’t your father’s campaign just have an event there last week?”
“Yes, but that was for the volunteers and if you ask me, it was a little lowbrow, if you know what I mean.” Kara was desperately trying to appeal to the snob she knew her boss to be.
“No, I don’t. It looks like a very cool place. I’m excited about what it’s bringing to downtown and you should be too.”
“Right, I am.” Kara sighed internally. She wasn’t going to win this one. “I’ll go there tonight and work on a review. I should have something for you by the end of the week.”
Olivia twirled her glasses as she perused her computer screen. That was a sure sign of brainstorming. Damn it!
“I want a feature.”
“What?” flew out of Kara’s mouth.
Olivia’s head popped up; she seemed a little startled at being questioned, let alone so enthusiastically. Kara smiled, mouthed a “sorry,” and tried to collec
t herself. She bit down on the tip of her pen hoping that would help calm her anxiety.
“Listen, I know he’s not your speed, but this guy lives at 920 Seco Street: 2009 winner of the Pasadena Historic Preservation Award,” Olivia continued moving her mouse around for more information that Kara already knew.
“He has an urban farm,” Olivia added.
Knew that, Kara thought, and bit harder on her pen.
“That’s very ‘in’ these days, trending.” Olivia swirled her mouse on its pad.
Kara hated that word, “trending.” She loved technology, but some of the lingo made her feel like she was back in high school. Olivia loved the lingo, so Kara smiled and nodded in feigned interest.
“From what I’m told he’s a good-looking guy.” She clicked a few more times. “Holy Shit! Kara have you seen this guy? He’s hot.” Olivia quickly turned her monitor to Kara, and there—in however many pixels—was Logan Rye wearing jeans and a plaid button-down shirt. No glasses this time. It was taken at The Yard and he was leaning on the pizza counter. He had an easy smile and the camera perfectly caught the natural wave of his thick brown hair and those light whiskey eyes that were rimmed in a darker shade.
“Kara, I want this guy.”
Me too, she thought. “I mean I used to, but certainly not anymore, that’s just . . .” Kara realized she had said that out loud. Where the hell was that pen?
“What did you say?” Olivia asked looking at her like she was wearing last year’s Ferragamos.
“I was saying that I’ve met Logan Rye and I’m not sure he’ll have time for a feature. They are pretty busy. And with Election Day coming up, I’ve got a lot—”
“New restaurant, LA Times wants to do a feature on you. I’m guessing he’ll make the time. I want you on this. I’ve already put this in Harold’s ear. He likes it. So if the big boss likes the idea, and I like it, you need to like this. K?” Olivia smiled and just like that Kara would be spending at least a week—
“Let’s do a three-part series.” Olivia folded her hands on her desk, as if she could not have been more pleased with herself.
