Spicy (Palate #1) (4 page)

Something about that blatant display of unbridled testosterone would have been sexy under different circumstances.  Maybe it was even a little sexy despite the circumstances. 
I wasn’t sure.  My head was still spinning as I tried to process what had just happened.

Once Gavin was gone,
I stood there uncertainly, looking around as everyone in the room stared back at me.  I swallowed hard, unsure of whether I should stay or leave.  My dress was torn and I was sure I must look flustered.  Just as I was about to step out, Gavin returned.  With him was The Sex God and they were speaking seriously in hushed tones.

“I want to apologize on behalf of that jackass,” the rapper said to me, looking sheepish and more than a little ticked off.  “Believe me – he won’t be coming back here with me again.  Gavin,” he said with a cordial nod, “I’m sorry for any trouble I’ve caused.”

“
You
didn’t do anything wrong,” Gavin replied, emphasizing the first word of his sentence to get his message across loud and clear.  He looked at me then and offered me his arm, completely brushing The Sex God off.  “Let’s step outside.”

Here and there, I’d caught glimpses of humanity and kindness in Gavin Rothe.  They had been so fleeting that I’d wondered if I was imagining them.  It wasn’t until we were standing outside the
restaurant in the dimly lit back alley that I got my first good look at who he was. 

Funny how sometimes it takes darkness to see things clearly.
 

Engines revved, car horns honked and sirens blared on the street, but I was deaf to all of it. 
Instead my attention was focused on Gavin.  The expression on his handsome face was as unreadable as ever and it didn’t help that the only light in the back alley behind his restaurant was from the moon.

“
Why are we even out here?” I asked. 

Though night had fallen, the temperate was moderate, maybe even balmy if you’re used to New England winters.  Inside the restaurant, it was easy to forget there was a world out there.  Once you stepped through the doors of Palate, everything else seemed to disappear somehow. 

“Well if you’re going to accuse me of planning to bang you behind a dumpster, you’re sadly mistaken,” Gavin retorted at once.  His tone was light and playful but there was an edge to his voice that told me he was shaken by the altercation inside.

I blushed hotly, the reference not lost on me. 
Had I not been so embarrassed, I might have found the comment funny.  Gavin actually had a pretty decent sense of humor if I was to be completely honest with myself – it was a bit twisted, as was mine.  I looked at him sheepishly.  “Look Gavin, about that…”

“Forget it.  I’m just teasing, but after the night you
’ve had maybe I shouldn’t.  Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”  I’d calmed down in no time.  “It takes
a lot more than that to rattle me,” I declared proudly.  Maybe I was exaggerating a little.  But it wasn’t like I was a helpless, hysterical woman having an emotional breakdown over some buffoon’s drunken antics.  After all, I knew how to take care of myself.

“Well it rattled
me
,” Gavin replied, surprising me with his admission.  “You asked why we’re out here.  Truthfully, it’s because I needed to step away.  You have no idea how badly I wanted to pummel that moron.  Instead I put him in a cab and sent him home while the paparazzi captured the whole thing on tape.  I expect it will be all over the tabloids by morning.”

“I’m…sorry?”
  It was the first genuine display of vulnerability I’d ever seen from him.  To think that Gavin had gotten so worked up just because a crude drunk had come onto me way too strong was startling.

“Don’t be.”  At first I thought he was being kind, but then Gavin flashed me one of his signature smirks.  “Any publicity is good publicity
, or so I’m told.  Although it’s probably a good thing I didn’t throw any punches with so many eyes on me.”

“You’d beat him up for me?”  I smiled at the thought.  “That’s like…hardcore high school chivalry,” I
said with a hint of mockery in my voice.  Even though the mental image of Gavin beating some dude up to defend my honor was silly, it was also kind of nice.

“It would appear you took care of
beating him up yourself,” he replied wryly.

“Don’t underestimate these muscles,” I replied, flexing and then immediately grabbing at the top of my torn dress to prevent what the Hollywood types liked t
o call a wardrobe malfunction.  If Gavin saw more than I’d intended, he kept it to himself.

“I can see you’re not a lady to be messed with,” he grinned.

“Damn straight.”

My muscles were actually
one thing I liked about my post-baby body.  Carrying my son around in my arms – especially when he was in mid-tantrum – was a great upper body workout.  I was strong…stronger than I’d ever been before.

“I shouldn’t have sent you in there alone knowing
the state some of those guys were in,” Gavin insisted, clearly upset with himself.  “Dealing with wasted celebrities isn’t exactly unheard of, but it’s my responsibility to keep my employees safe.  I feel like I sent you into the lion’s den.”

“Really, it’s no big deal,” I assured him.  “
It’s not like you knew that would happen.  And hey, it’s not every day a girl gets to meet The Sex God.  He seems nice, at least.”

“He…?” Gavin teased, feigning confusion.  “I
assumed you were referring to me.”

I rolled my eyes.  “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied with a wink.  “But truly, I am sorry.”

“No worries.  A
ll that happened is my dress got torn and some idiot’s pride got wounded.”  I tried to lighten the mood by cracking a joke.  “Usually my clothes don’t get wrecked until I take them home and my son colors on them with permanent marker.” 

It stung that my dress had been ruined after only a few hours of wearing it, but I’d learned a long time ago not to cry over spilt milk…or torn clothes.

“You can pick out a new one,” he told me.  “Take any dress you like.  It’s yours.”

“What? 
No, that’s too much,” I protested.

He shrugged.  “Most of my employees would jump at the chance to have
a new designer outfit.”

“Where would I wear a designer dress?” I pointed out.
  It wasn’t practical – not for my life.

“Here.”

I blinked.  I’d thought my gig at Palate was temporary.  “You’ll let me keep working here?”

“
Sure.  Tonight was crazy but tomorrow night I’ll take my time with you.  You want to run a restaurant someday, right?”

I nodded.  “I’m still figuring stuff out but I definitely want a career in the food industry,” I replied.  “I know that much.  And before you say it, no, not fast food…”

He chuckled.  “What would you say to a private cooking lesson?”

“Uh,
yes
,” I retorted as though that was the dumbest question in the world.  After Gavin’s career had blown up, tons of people had wanted cooking lessons from him.  He rarely obliged.  Eyeing him suspiciously, I asked, “You do mean from you, right?”

“Well yes, I wasn’t planning to fly Hayden Slate in to teach you,” he teased.  “
I’ll give you a private cooking lesson tomorrow night after closing.  Consider it my apology.  I owe you that much after what happened here tonight.”

“Tomorrow night?” I repeated,
deeply disappointed.

“Is that a problem?”

“Actually it is,” I said apologetically.  “My son’s sitter is leaving town on vacation tomorrow right after my shift.  I haven’t had a chance to interview backup sitters in the area yet, so there’s no one else I can call.”

“So bring him.”

“I can’t,” I replied at once.

“No?”

I shook my head adamantly.  “He’s a holy terror, bless him.  He’s like a tsunami of destruction.  He’ll have your entire restaurant destroyed in thirty seconds flat, I kid you not.  Actually, thirty seconds is probably underestimating his skills.  It’s more like fifteen seconds, give or take.” 

Gavin chuckled.  “Well now you definitely have to bring him.
  That sounds...interesting.”

“Seriously,” I
insisted.  “You think I’m exaggerating but I’m not.”

“
That’s okay.  I like a challenge.” 

The way he was looking at me in the moonlight made me think he was talking about something else. 
Suddenly I was aware of just how alone we were amidst all the commotion of the city.  It was as though, in that moment, we were the only two people who mattered.  The world went on around us, oblivious.  I hadn’t felt that way in a long, long time and it left me tongue-tied.

Gavin took a step closer.  He lifted his hand and at first I thought he was going to caress the side of my face.  I held my breath but he surprised me by plucking a leaf from my long
raven hair.  He held it out, showing it to me before releasing it to the wind.  It flitted through the air, dancing away into the night.

“It’s getting windy out,” he
observed.  “We should go inside.”

“We should,” I agreed.

Neither of us made a move.  Instead we just stood there in the shadows, the moonlight kissing our faces as it held us in its arms.

Sadness swept over me, an emotion so sudden and unexpected that I didn’t quite know how to process it.  It was a pity Gavin was who he was.  He was gorgeous and ambitious and witty…but
knowing what I knew, I’d never let myself fall for a man like him. 

I wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again.  The brashness was gone from his voice.  In fact, all traces of conceit had disappeared.  I saw his eyes focus on my lips and he moved toward me.  Was he going to kiss me?

Sure, he acted concerned.  It wasn’t
all that surprising.  That was how guys like Gavin got into unsuspecting women’s pants – and hearts.  I’d found that out the hard way and learned a cruel lesson in the process.  It wasn’t something I’d ever forget, nor was it something I cared to relive. 

I pulled back so abruptly I think I startled us both. 

“I’m fine,” I told him firmly as I deliberately turned away from him.  I pulled the door leading to the kitchen open and over my shoulder, informed Gavin, “We really should get inside.” Then I re-entered the world of Palate, immersing myself once again in the glitz and glamor of The Gourmet Dining Experience.

And just like that, the moment was gone.

“What a jackass.”

“Did you say something, ma’am?”

I looked up from the tabloid I was idly flipping through at the supermarket checkout and saw the teenaged cashier looking at me curiously.  I hadn’t meant to utter the words aloud but I had been so engrossed in what I was reading that I couldn’t help it. 

“Sorry…”  I quickly closed the
magazine and put it back where I’d found it.  I didn’t want to read any more.  I’d already seen more than enough.

The tabloids on the rack were already
outdated.  And Gavin Rothe was on the front page of one of them.  In the photo, he was standing on a yacht with two bikini clad bimbos on either side of him.  He was pouring champagne straight from the bottle into one of the women’s mouths.

It was clear from his body language that he knew he was being photographed, and he was obviously hamming it up for
the camera.  Yuck.

The article was worse yet, claiming he’d been on a wild bender with scantily clad
exotic dancers and plenty of booze to keep him company.  He’d had so many celebrities aboard the yacht he’d rented that fans turned out in scores once they got wind of it.  In the end, the entire marina had to be shut down on account of Gavin’s shenanigans.  He, of course, had been completely unapologetic about it.

It was downright obnoxious behavior, especially for a grown man
who held himself out to be a professional.  Who did he think he was, a rich, entitled frat boy? 

It annoyed me that I found Gavin Rothe so alluring.  I didn’t want to be attracted to him.  He wasn’t the type of guy a responsible young
single mother should be interested in.  He certainly wasn’t fit to be a role model for a small, impressionable child. 

He was like an overgrown, self-indulgent kid himself, except
unlike my son, Gavin’s vices extended far beyond shoving crayons up his nose and flushing my earrings down the toilet.  And he wasn’t two years old, either.  He was old enough to know better.

Maybe a part of me was secretly jealous.  Sometimes I wished for the kind of freedom I’d once had – the kind Gavin still enjoyed on a regular basis. 
At night when I was trying to fall asleep, sometimes I’d think about what I’d do if I had Gavin’s lavish lifestyle.  Oh, the things I’d do if I had unlimited funds and round the clock childcare at my disposal…

The part that really confused me was all the different sides of Gavin I’d seen.  He made me think of one of those carnival funhouses full of warped mirrors.  Every one of them offers a different reflection – tall and thin, short and stout…by the time you leave you’re not quite sure what you saw or which image was real.  Gavin was sort of like that and it made no sense.

How could he be everything I’d seen and heard about?  How could he be selfish and generous, arrogant and considerate, obnoxious and kind all at once?  That was the conundrum.  Everyone has different sides to some extent depending on who they’re with, but Gavin’s multiple personalities were extreme and had me baffled.

And what did it say about me that I lusted after him despite it all? 

He was no good for me.  He was every cliché in the book and yet after that moment we’d shared in the alley behind the restaurant, I wanted him more than I’d wanted anyone in a long, long time.  The more I told myself to stop thinking about him that way, the more inappropriate thoughts crept into my consciousness.

What would his lips feel like on mine?  What would it be like to have him inside me?  He talked a good game, but could he put his money where his mouth was?
  Maybe, I tried to tell myself, his arrogance was just overcompensation for what he lacked.  But no matter how many times I attempted to convince myself he was probably lousy in the sack, I couldn’t. 

I had a feeling sex with Gavin would be mind-blowingly satisfying. 
His presence put me on edge, simultaneously enraging me and giving me butterflies.  There was just something about the way he moved that made me think he’d be fantastic in bed.  But of course, I’d never find out.   

But what I could try to find out was which side of Gavin was the real one. 

Amanda seemed to think he’d hung the moon and stars himself.  Why did she have him on such a pedestal?  Was it just a harmless crush on a good looking guy, or had he actually done things to warrant her devotion to him? 

I decided to make it my mission to find out.

*****

“
This was a bad idea.”

Truer words had never been uttered. 
A while after my trip to the supermarket, I stood in the kitchen of Palate watching as Joel ran around in circles.  It was only a matter of time until he tripped someone, knocked something over or, heaven forbid, got too close to the hot stovetop. 

Why had I let Gavin talk me into bringing my son to work with me? 
How was I supposed to do my job and keep an eye on him at the same time?  Talk about stupid.  There was no way this was going to end well.

“I’ll watch him in the VIP room,” Amanda offered from where she stood behind me.  “No one has
it booked tonight so we can use it as a playroom.”

“I can’t ask you to
babysit him.” 

For reasons I’d never quite figured out, I always found it difficult to accept help from people.  Maybe it was because I’d spent so long doing everything on my own that relying on others was a foreign concept.  I’d had to grow up in a hurry when I’d transitioned from a college student with a promising future to a single college dropout with a baby on the way.

“You didn’t ask me to,” Amanda smiled.  “I offered.” 

Though she was a sweet girl, I could tell she’d been in Gavin’s presence for a while.  Those kind of semantics games reeked of him.  But I kept the
observation to myself, instead appreciatively telling her it would be great if she could watch him for a while.  Instinctively, I knew I could trust her. 

“I don’t have any cash on me…”

“I don’t want your money,” Amanda was quick to inform me.  “I’m happy to help.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes!” she insisted.  “Don’t worry; I grew up with little brothers.  I know how to keep a two year old occupied.  We’ll have fun!  It beats sitting at home alone in an empty apartment.  Sometimes the quiet just gets to me, you know?”

“
You shouldn’t have that problem with him,” I joked with a nod in my son’s direction.  “He’s kind of in the midst of a very long and drawn out screaming stage.”

“No problem, I can handle it.”

“If it gets to be too much, you can try giving him some animal crackers,” I said as I rooted through my gigantic purse in search of the snack I’d packed.  “Oh, and if they don’t work, then you can give him this,” I instructed, pulling a bag out of my purse that contained Joel’s pacifier.

Then I paused.  “I bet I seem like a terrible mother.  I know pretty much every expert says I shouldn’t be letting him have the pacifier a
t his age but it’s the only thing that works.  Sometimes it’s just like…I’m desperate for five minutes of peace and quiet, you know?  Ugh, that sounds awful.”

“
It doesn’t,” Amanda replied, taking the bag from me.  “You’re a great mom.  I can tell just by listening to the way you talk about him…you light up.  Your whole life revolves around him.”

That part was true; my whole life
did
revolve around my son.  In fact, moving to Los Angeles was the first big thing I’d truly done for myself since his birth.  But even that was influenced by him and the stable financial future I hoped to build for the two of us. 

Deeply touched by Amanda’s words, I looked away.

“Mina?” she asked softly, looking concerned.  “Did I say something wrong?  Are you okay?”

I felt
incredibly silly for tearing up but I just couldn’t help it.  Her words had caught me off guard and I guess after the stress of the move and competing on the reality show I was worn out and emotional.  I nodded and swallowed the lump in my throat. 

“It’s just that no one ever tells me I do a good job,” I tried to explain, hating how pathetic that made me sound.  “My parents
are crazy-religious and look down on me for being an unmarried mother.  My friends have all moved on with their lives and careers while it feels like I’ve been standing still for ages.  And my son’s father,” I said with bitterness in my voice, “well…he’s not in the picture at all.”

“I’m sorry,” Amanda said, putting her hand on my arm.  “That can’t be easy.”

Swiping my tears away with the back of my hand, I quickly regained my composure.  “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this,” I told her apologetically.  “I’m not usually like this but I guess I haven’t had anyone to talk to in a long time.”

Occasionally I’d call my friend Daniella back in Vermont, but her life was the polar opposite of mine.  Everything was falling into place for her.  Every time I heard her voice she sounded so damn happy that I hated to put a damper on it, so I kept our conversations cheerful and superficial.

“It’s good to have someone to talk to.  I haven’t had that in a while,” Amanda confessed, “so believe me, I understand.  I got out of a long-term relationship not that long ago.  I don’t really have friends anymore and it’s been lonely.”

“Ah, was it one of those situations where all your friends side with him
after the breakup?” I asked knowingly, grateful for a change of subject.  “I hate when that happens.  It seems so unfair, especially if the friends were yours to begin with.”

“
That’s not exactly what happened,” Amanda mumbled, suddenly seeming reluctant to open up.  “I was in a bad situation…a really bad situation.  When Gavin found out about it, he basically saved my life.  I owe him everything.”

“Oh…”  I wasn’t sure how to respond to that.  Of course I had all sorts of questions I was just itching to ask, but I didn’t know if I should.  Maybe it wasn’t my place.  I didn’t want to be snoopy and though we were becoming fast friends, I
didn’t want to overstep.

Amanda cleared her throat and forced a bright, sunny smile.  “Anyway,” she said
with a glance in Joel’s direction, “I should get this little guy to the VIP room before he burns the kitchen down.  Can you tell your mommy goodbye?” Amanda asked him, taking his hand.  “We’re just going to go down the hall to play while she gets some work done here, okay?”

My son looked up at me with the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen
.  He’d gotten those babies from me.  His chubby cherub cheeks were just made for kissing, not that he’d ever let me close enough for a cuddle.  Since he’d turned two, he’d become a wild child, hell bent on causing destruction and wreaking havoc wherever he went.  But maybe this time would be different…

I crouched down to his level and opened my arms.  “Ca
n I have a hug, kiddo?” I asked hopefully.  Maybe I was pushing my luck, but he was finally calm and quiet and just looked so damn angelic.  I had to try.

For a moment it seemed like he was actually considering it.  He took a step closer to me, his pudgy little hand still gripping Aman
da’s tightly.  He looked right at me, smiled sweetly…and then jumped on me. 

“Oof!” I grunted as the wind was momentarily knocked out of me. 
Still crouching down, I stumbled backward and nearly fell.  I only managed to catch him – and myself – at the last minute as he giggled like he’d just done the funniest thing on earth. 

So it wasn’t a hug, but it was something…sort of.  I’d take what I could get.

But when I stood back up, Amanda took one look at me and went pale.  “Oh dear,” she gasped, quickly grabbing a wad of paper towels from the counter and offering them to me.

I looked down.  There was a dark stain all over
the front of my pale blue dress.  Confused, I reached down and captured Joel’s pudgy little hand so I could inspect it.  His fingers were sticky with a dark, syrupy sauce. 

Perplexed, I murmured,
“How did he…?  We were watching him the whole time…” 

That kid was like
a little magician when it came to making messes.  He could get into trouble in the blink of an eye.  I was relieved the sauce he’d managed to find hadn’t been hot.  But it still made me feel like a shitty mother for not noticing what he was doing. 

How was it that a two year old managed to outsmart me on a semi-regular basis?
  Ugh.

Purposefully,
I picked Joel up, leaned him over the sink and washed his hands.  He, of course, started howling.  It figured that the kid who loved to get dirty had an aversion to baths and even hand washing.  I sighed, set him down and tried in vain to soothe him as I dried his hands.

“Can you get him out of here?” the bottle blonde server
from the previous night demanded as she sashayed through the kitchen.  She sneered at me disdainfully before pushing past me to grab a plate from the countertop.

I’d learned that Amanda secretly referred to
the two stuck up, fake breasted bottle blondes as Bitchy and Bitchier.  But since Bitchier had quit, now we only had Bitchy to contend with.  And that was more than enough, as far as I was concerned.