“It was the wrong paint,” she pointed out with disbelief.
He ignored that and continued, “On top of that, we were actually supposed to do this job last week, but you rebooked and we nearly killed ourselves finishing other jobs over the last couple of days to make time to come here today.”
“The wrong carpet was installed, I had to have it redone, and the only day the installers had available was the day you guys were supposed to come,” she explained quickly, glancing past him as the other two men climbed into the van. Neither of them would even meet her gaze. It seemed they weren’t eager to get stuck here either.
“And now you’re claiming the wrong paint arrived,” Bill continued dryly, drawing her eyes back to him. “It seems to me either you’re the one making mistakes, or the Big Guy upstairs is trying to tell you something.”
“But I need the restaurant painted,” she said, almost pleading now.
“Then I guess you’d best get painting cause we’regoing for a beer. Now get the hell out of the way or I’ll close the door on you.”
Alex stared at him for a moment, but knew from his hard expression that she wasn’t going to convince him to finish the job. Sighing, she stepped out of the way.
He tugged the door shut with a grunt and then gunned the engine to life before rolling down his window to peer out at her. “Sorry about your problems,” he said almost gruffly, and then added, “We’ll send you a bill for the painting we did today.”
“If you guys are done with your cleanup, I’ll let
you out and lock up now.”
Cale glanced to the
sous-chef,
Bev, who stood in Alex’s office doorway. The woman was eyeing them all uncomfortably. He didn’t need to read her mind to understand that it was because they were in Alex’s office when Alex herself wasn’t. However, they’d been exhausted after finishing, and there were no seats in the kitchen, so they’d made their way to the office to get off their feet for a few minutes.
Ignoring the
sous-chef
‘s reprimanding gaze, he said, “Alex said she’d come back at the end of the night. We’re waiting for her.”
Bev immediately shook her head. “She called earlier. There was a snag at the new restaurant and she’s going to be there all night. She asked me to close and lock up. If you don’t mind, I’ll let you out the back door. Idon’t have keys to the front and have to lock it from the inside.”
Cale frowned, but then glanced to his aunt Marguerite as she shifted on the couch, digging in her purse to retrieve her cell phone. Marguerite and Leigh, his uncle Lucian’s new bride, had plopped themselves there with relief once the last order had been filled and the
chef de cuisine
‘s station had been cleaned. He grimaced at the weary expression on both their faces, feeling guilty for causing their exhaustion.
Cale had lasted a little more than fifteen minutes after Alex left before calling Marguerite in a panic, begging her to come help him. That was after managing to produce two burnt fish dishes and one sauce that had bubbled over, caught fire, and made one hell of a mess on the grill. He hadn’t known what else to do. Feeding the customers nasty, burnt food and letting Bricker twist their minds so they left thinking they’d had the best meal ever was bad enough, but burning down Alex’s restaurant was another.
He’d called Marguerite. As it had turned out, she and Leigh were in town for dinner and a movie and were only ten minutes away. The two women had headed over before he’d even finished explaining the situation.
However, it hadn’t been Marguerite who had ended up saving his bacon, but Leigh. He’d learned at the wedding that she owned a restaurant but hadn’t realized she could cook too. She could. She’d taken his place tonight at the head chef’s station and manned it like a pro. Cale and Marguerite had alternately backed her up when necessary as she scrambled to catch up with theorders, and spent the rest of their time controlling the minds of the cooks in the kitchen as well as the waiters and waitresses, who were continually popping into the room with orders. They’d kept them from noticing what was happening and calling to tattle to Alex. It seemed, however, while they’d prevented anyone’s calling out, Alex had called in. Fortunately, a quick read of Bev’s mind told him that she hadn’t said anything about the help he’d had here tonight.
“Well then,” Marguerite murmured, snapping her phone shut and getting to her feet as Leigh stood up. “I guess we may as well head home.”
Cale stood at once and moved to hug each woman with gratitude. “Thank you for your help.”
“You’re welcome,” Marguerite murmured as he stepped back. She then smiled wryly, and added, “I’ll see if I can find someone to take your place tomorrow night.”
Cale thanked her again. He then hesitated, his glance moving to Bricker as the younger immortal stood. “Would you mind—”
“Certainly,” Marguerite interrupted. “The enforcer house is on our way. We’ll drop Bricker off.”
“I’ll get our coats,” Bricker offered.
Cale murmured his thanks and watched as the man headed out of the room.
“Cale.”
He shifted his gaze back to Marguerite to see a troubled look on her face. After a sigh, she said, “I think it may be best if you tell Alex the truth about your lack of cooking ability as soon as you can. Perhaps not untilshe gets to know you a little better, but don’t leave it too long. A relationship started on lies has a shaky foundation.”
Cale nodded solemnly, knowing she was right. As immortals, they had enough secrets to overcome to enjoy a relationship. Unnecessary lies just added to the burden. “I will.”
“Here’s yours,” Bricker announced, appearing at the office door. He was wearing his own winter coat and holding out Cale’s. “So are you heading to a hotel or something? ”
“Or something.” Cale accepted the coat, and then glanced around to see where Alex had put his suit jacket earlier. Spotting it on a coatrack in the corner, he grabbed it and tugged first it, and then the winter coat on before turning to urge Bricker and the women out of the office.
“Do you need the address?” Bricker asked, pausing in the doorway and forcing Cale to a halt as well.
“What address?” he asked warily.
“To the new La Bonne Vie,” Bricker said dryly and shook his head. “Don’t bother trying to keep secrets for a while. Your mind is an open book at the moment. Alex is definitely the one.”
“I think he realizes that, Bricker,” Marguerite said dryly, taking his arm to urge him forward so Cale could get out of the room. “And I have already given him the address.”
“You have?” Cale asked, his surprise distracting him from the irritation Bricker’s words had stirred in him.
Marguerite nodded, continuing to tug Bricker acrossthe kitchen toward the back door. “Check your phone. I texted it to you.”
Recalling her fiddling with her phone earlier, Cale dragged his own out of his pocket and quickly checked his text messages. Sure enough, there was one from Marguerite with a street address on it. Cale grinned to himself and then hurried after the trio.
“Thank you, Marguerite,” he murmured, pausing to press a kiss to her cheek before opening the back door for the three of them. Leigh smiled at him wearily as she led the other two out, then Cale glanced to Bev. Reading the anxiety in her mind about locking up and making her way to her car in the dark parking lot alone, Cale held the door for her, and murmured, “I’ll wait and walk you to your car before I go.”
“Thank you,” she said with obvious relief. She quickly locked the door, and then nearly jogged to a small Toyota parked by the Dumpster. “Is your car far? Would you like a ride? It’s cold out tonight.”
Cale smiled faintly, but shook his head. “My car isn’t far. I’m fine. Have a good night.”
“Good night.” She pulled the car door closed, starting the engine as he turned away.
Cale immediately headed around the side of the restaurant. Marguerite, Leigh, and Bricker were already turning out of sight at the front of the building, en route to whatever vehicle the women had arrived in. Cale followed just as swiftly, eager to get to the restaurant and see Alex again. He’d help her with whatever problem it was she’d run into and get a chance to woo her a bit. Well, he would help so long as it wasn’t cooking, Calethought wryly. While he’d learned a thing or two from watching Leigh tonight, Cale didn’t think he’d ever be offering himself up as a chef again … or allow anyone else to either.
Grimacing to himself, he hurried to his car and got in, his key in the ignition almost before he even had the door closed. Immortals could better bear more extremes of temperature, but it was damned cold out tonight. Cold enough that Cale was feeling it and couldn’t get the engine started and the heater going quick enough. Leaving the car to heat up, he turned his attention to the rental car’s GPS system and entered the address Marguerite had texted him. By the time he had a route mapped out, the car windows had defrosted. He shifted into drive and set out, trying to come up with an excuse to give for seeking her out there.
Alex was humming the tune playing in her ears and doing a little dance to the beat as she dragged the ladder several steps to the right and then climbed back up to resume her painting. She’d decided the painters had the right idea and fetched her earplugs to listen to music on her iPhone as she worked. She had always found music soothing. It often helped her be creative as well. She’d come up with some of her best recipes while rock music blared in her ears. Still, she was surprised it had managed to lift her out of the hellish mood she’d been in after watching Bill and the boys drive away.
She’d been low enough at that point that Alex had almost given up and just gone home to bed to sleep the rest of her life away. However, she’d always been afighter, and the mood hadn’t lasted long. After allowing herself a few minutes to indulge in a self-pity party, she’d managed to gather herself, grab her purse, and head for the paint store. As Bill had said, if she wanted it painted, she would have to do it herself. Certainly, there was no way she was going to get another painting company to send men out past dinnertime on a Friday night. She was it.
After hitting the paint store for primer and painting paraphernalia, Alex had swung by the hardware store for a ladder before returning to settle into doing it herself. Oddly enough, she found the experience rather soothing. There was something about emptying your mind and simply letting it drift while your body worked … it did wonders for her stress level. Unfortunately, once the tension had left, other sensations had started to make their way to the surface … like hunger … and thirst. Sadly, food was the one thing she hadn’t thought to buy while on her shopping trip.
Grimacing at her hunger pangs, Alex turned to run the roller through the tray, only to find she’d used up the last of the paint in it. Pausing, she glanced toward the ground and the paint can waiting there, and then back to the wall. She was no professional but thought she was doing a pretty good job so far. She’d gotten the primer up and was now working on the first coat of White Sand, with two walls and part of a third done. Despite the primer, it was going to take two coats to finish the walls properly, and she’d hoped to get at least the first coat done before going out in search of food.
However, her stomach felt like it was taking an acidbath and, frankly, she was running low on energy. Her legs had actually started shaking a couple of times as she’d worked on this third wall. Shaky legs and ladders just didn’t seem like a good combination to her. It would be more sensible to take a break now and finish after she’d hit a fast-food joint or something.
As a chef, Alex would never admit to anyone that she enjoyed anything as pedestrian as rubbery burgers with reconstituted onions and processed, half-wax cheese on them, but at times like this, cheeseburgers were a fast treat that would hit the spot.
Smiling at the thought, Alex set the roller in the tray, picked it up in one hand, and carefully backed down off the ladder. She’d bought several rollers so didn’t bother washing this one. Instead, she left it to dry, closed the paint can, and then headed toward the back of the restaurant. After washing her hands, she ducked into her office to retrieve her purse and coat. A moment later, she was letting herself out the back door, and then nearly jumping out of her skin when something brushed her arm.
Alex whirled to see what it was, shrieking when she saw the dark figure looming over her. Wielding her purse like a weapon, she instinctively began to thrash her attacker with it, slamming it over his head with one hand as she punched at his stomach, his arm, and anything else she could reach with her other.
Fortunately, her earplugs got jerked from her ears with the action and she became aware that her “attacker” was shouting her name between efforts to blockher blows. Ending her assault, she stepped warily back, eyeing the dark figure. Her voice was shaky as she asked, “Who are you?”
“Cale Valens,” he answered with a sigh, straightening from the slightly hunched position he’d taken when she started assaulting him.
“Cale?” Eyes widening with disbelief, she asked, “My chef, Cale?”
“Sort of,” he muttered.
Alex was digging in her purse for her keys and silently berating herself for not turning on the outer lights and checking the small parking lot behind the restaurant before stepping out. She found her keys and pulled them out, then quickly flicked on the attached tiny flashlight to run over him. It was definitely Cale, her chef, she noted, and frowned at the way his eyes seemed to glow in the darkness. A trick of the light, she told herself, and glanced around uncertainly. The parking lot was empty except for her car.
“Where’s your car?” she asked.
“Parked out front. I was originally at the front door, but couldn’t get your attention. When I saw you head for the back of the restaurant, I came around back, hoping you were coming out,” he explained quietly, and then urged her hand holding the flashlight away so it was no longer shining in his face. “Would you mind? That’s very bright.”