by J. A. Lang
“With just a few conditions.”
“Conditions?” Chef Maurice turned to Arthur. “Do you see what happens, mon ami? First, he threatens me to leave. And now, he holds me at ransom!”
“Well, let’s at least hear these terms,” said Arthur.
“First of all, I want to design at least three dishes on each new menu. Not including the vegetable side dishes,” he added, as Chef Maurice opened his mouth.
“Humph. Very well. As long as we have no complaints from our customers.”
“And secondly, we’re reordering the ThermoMash.” There was the sound of crashing pans in the kitchen. “We won’t need it all of the time, of course, but it’ll come in useful during busy shifts.”
Chef Maurice appeared to consider this. “Of course, I will have to make a study of our accounts . . .”
“No problem,” said Patrick, who had been budgeting for the last two years for such a purchase. “And last of all”—he gave a sideways look at his girlfriend—“you have to stop, and I’m just quoting here, understand, ‘sticking your nose into police business’.”
“Bah!” Chef Maurice waved a finger at PC Lucy. “I solve another case of murder, and see what thank you I receive? Non, that request, I refuse!”
Patrick gave PC Lucy a shrug.
“What do you think your mum’s going to say about all this?” said Arthur.
“I already rang her up. She said she’d been expecting me to turn down the job, so she already had Jerome Archer—you know, head chef over at The Headley Arms in Warwickshire—lined up, just in case. I think she’s secretly pleased. About us, I mean,” Patrick added, squeezing PC Lucy’s shoulder again. “Said I had my priorities straight.”
“Pffft,” muttered Chef Maurice.
“She also said to say hi to you, chef, and said it was high time we found you a ‘nice lady to settle down with’.”
There was a scrape of wood against stone as Chef Maurice almost fell off his stool. “Me? Never! If we learn one thing this week, it is that les femmes, they are much too dangerous!”
He stomped off to the kitchens, closely followed by PC Lucy, intent on a raid for more hidden recording equipment.
Patrick pulled himself up onto the stool next to Arthur.
“I’m thinking of taking Lucy away for a long weekend sometime soon,” he said, with a quick glance towards the kitchen doorway. “Any ideas on where we should go?”
Arthur rubbed his chin. He’d been having thoughts in a similar vein, especially in light of recent events in the Gifford household. Wives, he decided, were definitely at their best when thoroughly appreciated.
“Well,” he said, glancing up at the faded black-and-white photo over the bar, which showed the winding cobble streets of Montmartre at dusk, “Paris is always a good idea . . .”
About the Author
J.A. Lang is a British mystery author. She lives in Oxford, England, with her husband, an excessive number of cookbooks, and a sourdough starter named Bob.
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Also by the author
Chef Maurice and a Spot of Truffle (Book 1)
Chef Maurice and the Wrath of Grapes (Book 2)
Copyright
Copyright © J.A. Lang 2015
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of both the copyright holder and the publisher.
J.A. Lang has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
Published by Purple Panda Press
ISBN 978-1-910679-09-8
Table of Contents
Title
About the Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
About the Author
Copyright
