‘Do you need anything for your kitchen?’ It wasn’t what he wanted to talk about, but any conversation was better than none. They came to the end of the alley and turned toward the main street. A large tree on the corner cast a shadow across her features as they passed under it.
‘Nothing I can’t order. You’ve already done enough giving me the opportunity.’
Now he really felt like an asshole. The whole reason she was in Dabery was because he had got drunk and wanted to teach her a lesson. Now she was here and he wasn’t sure what to do with her. ‘You know, on Friday a group from California is coming to check out some of the Thompsons’ stallions. They’ll probably be at the restaurant.’
‘Is there a special request to go along with that information?’
‘Just thought you’d like to know when you’re planning your menus.’ Jackson glanced up the street to the bed and breakfast, not wanting the conversation to end. ‘Back in New York, you mentioned you had sisters.’
‘Yes, four.’
‘Any brothers?’
‘No, just two brothers-in-law,’ she answered. ‘Megan, the oldest, is a police detective. She’s married to Ryan, a crime scene photographer. Kat’s a photographer married to a bug scientist. She’s pretty well known for her entomology photographs. Sasha has been in college for years, I don’t know if she’ll ever graduate. And Ella is in the navy. We don’t hear from her too often.’
‘And your parents?’ Jackson smiled. It seemed he had found something else her eyes lit up for – family. In that they were the same. He wasn’t nearly as passionate about food, but he did care deeply about his family.
‘My father is a retired English professor and my mother is …’ She made a weak noise. ‘She’s, ah …’
‘I’m sorry, is she gone?’ Jackson reached for her arm.
‘What? Oh, no, nothing like that. She’s a flake. She thinks she can read our futures in tea leaves. We can’t do anything without her pulling out the kettle. It’s actually a little embarrassing. She used to make our dates in high school drink a cup and then would try to predict our relationships. Of course, they never lasted much longer after she pulled that.’
‘You think that’s bad?’ Jackson took heart in the fact that she didn’t pull away. As he talked, he slowly moved his arm to hook it into hers. It was a small gesture, but she didn’t complain. ‘My gramma is superstitious as they come. She has so many rules in her house you have to be born into the family to know them all. I swear anthropologists could write a book about the things she says. She believes things like putting a knife under a bed will cut childbirth pains in two and you’ll never get married if someone sweeps under your feet. And, at midnight on New Year’s Eve all the doors in the house must be opened to let the old year out unimpeded. Oh, and a food one just for you, eat black-eyed peas on New Year’s Day to ensure good fortune in the coming year.’
‘My mother once told me the tea leaves said to cut my hair.’ Zoe giggled.
‘Did you listen?’
She motioned to her chin-length style. ‘Apparently, if I didn’t cut it, the locks would have gotten caught in equipment at work and I would have lost my fingers.’
‘How do you know it would have happened?’ He stepped closer to her.
‘How do I know it wouldn’t?’ She looked at him, her expression playful as she arched a delicate brow. ‘I cut my hair and I have all my fingers.’
‘That’s hardly scientific proof.’ Jackson let go of her hooked elbow, only to slip his arm over her shoulder.
‘Do you eat black-eyed peas on New Year’s?’ They stopped in front of Marta’s house. The blue moonlight caressed her face, highlighting her face with a pale, ethereal beauty.
‘Every year.’
‘And how do you know that’s not the reason for your good fortune in business?’ She faced him and his arm slid from her to his side.
He reached to brush a wayward strand of hair from her face, his finger tracing down her cheek to the side of her mouth. Jackson began to speak, but she stepped back before he could get anything out.
‘Good night, Mr Levy.’ She gave the briefest smile and he couldn’t tell if it was genuine or simply humoring him.
As she walked away, he answered in kind, ‘Good night, Chef Matthews.’
‘Kat, I don’t know the first thing about doing this.’ Zoe paced the length of her room, only to turn around and pace the other way when she hit the white, slanted ceiling leading down to the painted white walls. The polished pinewood floor gleamed in the lamplight, reflecting a blurry image of her as she walked around the room. A delicate white lace comforter lay over the king-sized bed. When she left that morning, the bed had been a mess. Marta must have cleaned up after her. ‘I don’t know how to be a mistress.’
‘Zoe, sweetie, just calm down,’ Kat’s tired voice urged through the phone.
‘I can’t calm down. I don’t know what to do. He kisses me and I lose all rational thought.’ She paced faster, tossing her hands up as she moved. ‘And if I stop sleeping with him now he might fire me, right? But, even if I want to sleep with him, I can’t keep this aloof act up. I don’t know how to act around him so I end up babbling about food.’
‘You always babble about food,’ Kat teased. ‘It’s why we love you.’
‘Do you remember that time I was interviewed for the high-school TV station about mystery meatballs?’
‘Oh, no, Zoe, please tell me you aren’t that bad? Half the school thought you’d been struck down with some sort of weird disease from working in the kitchen.’
‘I know. I made mom burn the tape.’ Zoe took a deep breath, not wanting to remember the embarrassing incident. She’d been so pale and had ended up spouting incoherent sentences for nearly two minutes. ‘Kat, I’m telling you, it’s that bad. So I shut up and say nothing and end up looking like some kind of psycho whore who sleeps with a man and then pretends nothing happened.’
‘OK, calm yourself. First off, I’m glad you’re getting laid. I think it’s about damn time. Second, not all sex has to mean something. The fact does not make you a whore. Third, you’re a smart, intelligent, beautiful woman – wait, you’re being safe, right?’
‘Yes, he has condoms.’
‘You mean, he already had them when you two –’
‘Yes,’ Zoe broke in before her sister could say whatever choice phrase she’d come up with to describe her carnal acts.
‘Now that’s interesting.’ Kat hummed softly.
Zoe froze, catching her pale reflection in the window glass. ‘Why is that interesting?’
‘He planned, or at least hoped that he was going to get you in the sack. Do you know what this means? He’s thinking about you when you’re not around. We know he likes you. He even came on to you in the bar before either of you knew who the other one was. I’ll bet that’s why he brought you to the diner. He wanted a chance to get to know you and I’ll bet he wants you to get to know him. That’s why he brought you to his hometown.’
Zoe shook her head in disbelief, knowing Kat couldn’t see her. ‘I think that theory is a little far fetched. This is what he said it is – a position he had open and a chance for me to prove myself. Even tonight he said that some important ranch clientele from California would be coming down to check out some horses. It’s why he’d need a chef in a diner, to take care of the rich clients when they come. They’d expect more than diner cheeseburgers and greasy fries. It’s my job to make sure they’re satisfied. The rest of the days are just filler cooking for locals to keep the place running.’
‘You should make that creamy ranch for them.’
‘I can handle the cooking. It’s the man I have no clue on.’ Zoe tore her eyes away from her reflection. ‘I think he’s just interested in me because I shot him down at the bar.’
‘Why would you say that?’
‘Because I’m awkward and too skinny and –’
‘Shut your hole right now, Ms Zoe.’ Kat sighed into the receiver, the sound
like a stout wind against Zoe’s ear. ‘You are beautiful and men want you all the time. You just never see it.’
Not wanting to get into a debate, Zoe changed the course of the conversation. ‘You know what Megan would say, don’t you? She’d say the romance novels I read give an unrealistic view of love and men. Maybe she’s right. I expect them to be this alpha hero who’s utterly perfect, but I’m not some kick-ass heroine who deserves to be with them.’
‘OK, you’re talking crazy now. Megan is hardly one to give relationship advice. She sees too many gone wrong on the job. We both know Ryan’s some kind of glutton for punishment for even being with her.’
‘That is so wrong. He loves her.’
Kat giggled. ‘Yeah, but Megs is a handful.’
Zoe flung herself on the bed, bouncing on the noisy springs before settling. ‘Tell me what to do. How do I handle this?’
‘I don’t know Jackson, but I do know you. Take a chance. Let him see you, let him see beneath all your shyness to the wonderful woman you are deep inside. If he’s worth anything, he’ll notice how magnificent you are.’
‘What if I don’t want him to notice? What if I just want this to be an affair?’
Kat burst into laughter, gasping and wheezing so hard she couldn’t form a coherent sentence.
‘What? I don’t know how I feel about him,’ Zoe tried to interrupt.
‘Oh, Zo, I can’t breathe.’ Kat panted. ‘That was too funny. My eyes are watering, that was so funny. Of course you like him. You slept with him. There is no way you could even kiss a man without really liking him on more than a physical level.’
‘But how do I know the attraction is real and not just some strange misplaced affection because of who he is and what he can do for my career? I mean, I’ve been feeling pretty down and desperate lately. I’d do about anything for a shot.’
‘That’s a tougher one,’ Kat admitted. ‘But really, who knows where true attraction and affection start? I know you, sis, and you’re not a user. Besides, it’s still early. You don’t know him all that well. Give it time and be yourself.’
Zoe really wished she was more like her sisters. All of them seemed so confident and sure. She’d always been the reserved one, over-thinking every little detail.
‘So tell me, how’s your room? He put you up in a nice place?’
‘It’s a little country, but not bad. Reminds me a bit of that place we stayed at in Montana – décor-wise.’ Zoe looked around, staring at a sepia print of a little girl in a bonnet next to an old-fashioned car. ‘Honestly, it’s a little creepy here. It’s so quiet, I can’t sleep. There are these bugs that just chirp all night long. I never thought I’d say I missed the sound of traffic.’
‘Want me to mail you a tape?’
‘Kind of.’ Zoe laughed. ‘I tell you, what I could really use is some street clothes. I thought I’d be in a fine-dining restaurant, so I have mostly chef uniforms with me. I underpacked when it came to T-shirts and jeans. Send me some?’
‘Sure. I have movers going to your place tomorrow to take your stuff to storage. I’ll grab some then.’
‘You’re the best.’
‘I know. I rock.’ Kat chuckled. ‘Now get some sleep and don’t lose heart. You just keep doing what you do and that little town will wake up and take notice.’
‘If Sheryl will let them wake up,’ Zoe grumbled. ‘Night, Kat.’
‘Bye, sweetie.’
Zoe hung up and dropped the phone next to her on the firm mattress, turning her head to the window without getting off the bed. Her damp hair felt cool against her skin. The rough texture of the bedspread lightly scratched the backs of her thighs and her arms when she moved against it. The pink pyjama shorts and tank top offered little protection, but were perfect for the warmer South Carolina weather. White lace curtains framed the darkness outside. Stars and tree limbs filled the view of the night sky. Even though it made her nervous, she could appreciate the open beauty.
‘Jackson,’ she whispered. Despite her sister’s comforting words, Zoe knew what it was between them. What would a man like Jackson want with a desperate chef? She didn’t have money, only had a job because of him and had nothing to bring to the relationship but herself. What they had was an affair, pure and simple. She would be a fool to wish for more.
Rolling onto her side, she grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest. She was most definitely a fool.
Chapter Six
THROUGH THE PICK-UP window Zoe anxiously watched the rich California couples sitting at a booth. The women both had blonde hair – one with sleek short locks and the other with flowing curls. Their designer wrap dresses stood out in the small-town atmosphere, as did the long fake nails, high heels and fancy jewelry. The men were Hollywood-refined, slick players with golden tans and lightweight cotton-knit shirts.
All week, she’d not sold one special – except for meatloaf Tuesday when the restaurant went through an inordinate amount of ground beef with baked ketchup topping. She’d followed the old cook’s recipe to the letter, doubtful when she started that they’d go through over thirty pounds of baked beef. It was only at the end of the day that she learnt Dabery was the self-proclaimed meatloaf capital of the world. They took their loaf seriously and even though she made it exactly to recipe, she felt their suspicious glances as they ate.
Now, as Sheryl carried the four balanced plates to the Californians’ table, she held her breath. They were the first in this town to try her original dishes. Knowing they were coming, she’d made a list of seven options. It also helped to use up some of the foodstuffs she’d ordered but hadn’t used during the week. Predictably, the women picked salads – one fresh corn and pine nuts and the other a ginger chicken with melon. The older man with graying temples ordered aged steak with wild mushroom and baby asparagus and the younger chose a salmon rigatoni with parsley sauce.
Zoe held her breath, ignoring the hamburgers cooking on the grill. Their loud sizzle had become a constant background to her days. The restaurant was half full of customers. A few regulars sat at the counter, drinking their bottomless cups of coffee like they did every day. After several hours, they’d each leave a 25-cent tip for Sheryl and a newspaper. For the most part, no one talked to her. It was as if most of them came for the sole purpose of checking her out. To make matters worse, Jackson had disappeared. After he’d walked her home, she hadn’t heard from him again. He hadn’t come to the restaurant, hadn’t shown up outside the bed and breakfast and hadn’t called – not that she’d expected any calls. The most she’d had was a manila envelope filled with employment papers with her name on it left on the back desk of Renée’s kitchen.
Swallowing down the hurt, she kept her eyes on the Californians. The ladies both took tiny bites of their salad. Zoe leant forward, trying to read their expressions from the sides of their faces. Suddenly, Sheryl appeared before the pick-up window, blocking her view. Zoe stood up straight, wrinkling her nose at the grumpy woman.
Sheryl slammed order tickets down on the pick-up window’s countertop. ‘Two of those steak things and a corn nut olive salad.’
The waitress turned to go, clearly annoyed. Zoe reached her hand through the window, trying to grab her. The hot metal burned a little because of the overhead heat lamps. Whispering, she said, ‘Wait, wait a second. Come here.’
Sheryl arched a brow, but slowly made her way to the metal door. Coming back to the kitchen, she crossed her arms over her chest. ‘Yes?’
‘Really?’ Zoe asked.
‘Really, what?’
‘Other people want my specials?’ She could barely contain her excitement.
‘I placed the order, didn’t I?’ Sheryl moved to go.
‘Wait!’
‘What?’ The waitress sighed heavily.
‘We can’t do any more of the pine nut and corn salad after this one.’ When Sheryl raised a brow, Zoe explained, ‘I only bought a small packet of pine nuts from the grocery store to make it. I didn’t think anyone else woul
d try it outside of that group from California. No one’s tried one of my specials all week.’ She couldn’t help her giddiness. ‘Who ordered it? Those guys at the counter? Or was it the farmer? I bet he took a steak, didn’t he? Or –’
‘Girly, I’m only going to say this once,’ Sheryl broke in, holding up a hand to stop Zoe from saying more. ‘Get a hold of yourself. It’s just a piece of cooked meat, not the second coming. I’ve got customers to tend to. Don’t make them wait.’
Zoe’s smile faded some. She glanced at Travis, who ignored her as he slowly loaded a rack to get it ready to go into the industrial-sized dishwasher. It sucked not having anyone to share these things with. Then, thinking she finally had customers to wow, she hurried back to the grill to flip the hamburgers and move them aside to make room for the steaks. Checking the orders, her grin returned. Her time had finally come. She was her own chef.
Zoe grinned. Nothing could take the smile off her face or the bounce from her step, not even the giant bag of heavy trash she slung over her shoulder. She’d sold fifteen of her special dinners. Fifteen! Fifteen people ordered off her menu, ate it and paid for it. Not one complained. She was finally a real chef in her own restaurant.
Throwing open the lid to the blue dumpster, she wrinkled her nose and tried not to breathe in the horrible smell of trash that came from inside. Garbage service had yet to pick up the week’s load. Light from inside the restaurant shone over the shadowed alley, giving her enough to see by. With a grunt, she lifted the bag and tossed it over the side. It landed with a loud bang. As she turned, she saw movement on the ground.
‘Ah!’ Zoe screamed. The sleek body of a long black snake gleamed in the light. It spread its neck horizontally as if ready to strike. It hissed violently and the loud sound made her spring into action. She leapt for the closest high point – the dumpster. The snake lurched forward. Zoe jumped, digging her feet in as she scurried up the side of the large metal container. The reptile hit her leg and she screamed again, jerking her feet up.
Her New Boss: A Rouge Erotic Romance Page 9
