Veritas (37 page)

“Oh, Lauren.” Grey lifted her hand like she was going to reach for Lauren, only to end up running it through her hair instead. “I miss you too. But, hey, there are only nine days until I’ll be up there to see you.”

Lauren smiled at the thought. “I know. I can’t wait.”

“Me neither,” Grey whispered, her eyes dancing over Lauren’s face They talked for another half an hour about everything and nothing at all, comfortable silence filling the void between topics as they just looked at each other, their expressions conveying everything they were thinking.

Lauren let out a soft, regret-filled sighed when her phone on the table began to beep. “I’m sorry. That’s my work alarm. I’m going to have to get going.”

“It’s fine. Usual time tomorrow?”

“Of course.” Lauren smiled. “It’s the best part of my day.”

“Mine too,” Grey whispered. “Have a good night at work.”

“I’ll try. What do you have going on tonight? Anything?”

“Nothing special.” Grey shook her head. “Am just going to go over to Kip’s for dinner and hang out for a bit. Head out again tomorrow morning, but will be in Leinster in plenty of time to call. ”

Lauren nodded. “Have fun. Tell Kelly I say hello.”

“Will do.” Grey pressed two fingers to her lips and then touched them to the screen, and smiled when Lauren did the same. “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Lauren promised, hating the way her stomach sank at the knowledge that she would not see Grey again until the following afternoon.

“Goodbye, beautiful,” Grey whispered.

Lauren smiled sadly and nodded. “Bye.” She blew out a loud breath as she closed up her laptop to keep Jenks from making a bed of the keyboard, and set it down on the table. She propped her elbows on her knees and let her head drop into her hands as she tried to refocus herself on the things she needed to do. Work was a nice distraction from how much she missed Grey, and she had grown to crave the chaos of the kitchen. She sucked in a deep breath as she let her hands fall, and looked at Jenks, who was watching her carefully. “Right, buddy. Time to get ready for work.”

She pocketed her phone as she made her way down the hall to her bedroom, and she smiled at the sound of Jenks trailing behind her. She dressed quickly, knowing that things were going to be hectic that night because Laine was planning on trying a new recipe. The special the week before had been one of hers, and it had been so well-received that she knew he was going to be hovering over everybody’s shoulders, barking orders and making sure that everything was perfect, trying to solidify his position as her better.

She finished dressing quickly, and threw a few treats into Jenks’ bowl as she passed through the kitchen to the front door. She had just pulled on her coat when her phone began ringing with the default tone assigned to the majority of her contacts, and she answered it distractedly as she stepped into her shoes. “Hello?”

“Chef Murphy?”

Lauren frowned. She did not recognize the voice on the other end. She pulled the phone away from her ear to glance at the number, and her frown deepened as she failed to recognize it as well. “Yes.”

“My name is Jason Whitmore. I’m the owner and general manager of Café Belle.”

Café Belle was a French/American fusion restaurant on the Upper West Side that was on the verge of breaking into the elite upper echelon of restaurants in the city. The rumor mill had been churning for the last year with speculation of Marcus Adrian leaving his position as executive chef at the café to strike out on his own, and Lauren’s pulse jumped as she realized those rumors might actually be true.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about Chef Adrian leaving Café Belle to open his own restaurant…”

Lauren nodded slowly. “I have…”

“Would you be interested in interviewing for the position?”

“Of executive chef?”

“Yes,”
Whitmore replied, his tone amused.

“Of course,” Lauren answered automatically, her pulse racing with excitement.

“Excellent. Would you be available to interview tomorrow morning?”

“I…yes. Of course. What time?”

“How does eleven o’clock sound?”

“That sounds great.”

“Perfect. Then I shall see you tomorrow morning, Chef Murphy.”

Lauren stared at the wall in front of her for a moment as she processed what had just happened. She had an interview to become the Executive chef at Café Belle. She danced giddily in place, and then froze as her eyes landed on the wallpaper on her phone. It was a selfie-shot she and Grey had taken while in Hawksnest, just the two of them cuddled up together on the trampolines at the front of the boat. Grey’s smile was radiant, and Lauren’s heart sank as she looked at it.

“Shit.” Her legs threatened to give out beneath her, and she leaned against the wall for support. “What am I going to do?”

Her phone beeped again with her ‘you better move your ass or you’re going to be late’ alarm, and she shook her head as she dropped the phone into her purse and finished getting ready to leave. That same question played on an infinite loop as she made her way to work on auto-pilot, weaving her way through the crowd that filled the sidewalk between her apartment and the restaurant.

What am I going to do?

Cross the street. Dodge a creepy looking guy who was not going to alter his course.

What am I going to do?

Wait at a red light. Slow down, duck around the tourists taking a picture of a building.

What am I going to do?

She had yet to find any kind of an answer by the time she walked into Clarke’s, and she made a beeline through the empty dining room before shouldering her way through the swinging door to the kitchen. The small locker room area at the back of the kitchen was empty when she walked inside, and she continued to mull over her dilemma as she stored her things.
She had just closed her locker when a gentle hand on her shoulder made her jump, and she swore softly under her breath as she turned to find her best friend standing behind her.

“Sorry,” Jen murmured, smiling apologetically. She leaned back against her locker and gave Lauren an appraising look. “Everything okay? I said hello three times and you never heard me.”

“Yeah. No.” Lauren shook her head. “Everything’s fine. I’m just thinking.”

“About Grey?”

“Yes…and no.” Lauren blew out quiet breath and shook her head as she pulled her hair up into a bun. “Jason Whitmore called me right when I was leaving to come here tonight. I have an interview tomorrow morning for the executive chef position at Café Belle.”

Jen’s eyes went wide and she stood up straighter. “Lo, that’s awesome!”

“Yeah, I know,” Lauren murmured, her brow furrowing as she nodded. “I know it is.”

Jen sighed, understanding without having to be told why Lauren looked so conflicted about it all. It was clear to her from listening to Lauren talk that things between her and Grey were growing more and more serious. They existed in a state of flux, neither doing anything that would force the other’s hand, but it could not go on forever. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t…what do you think I should do?”

“Only you can answer that one, kiddo,” Jen said gently. “I know the whole Grey thing is a mess right now, but you said that she was at least open to the idea of maybe moving up here this summer. I know the idea of another six months of being thousands of miles away from each other isn’t the most fun, but it’s also do-able.”

Lauren nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

“I do think that you need to go to the interview and at least hear Whitmore out, though. See the kitchen and the dining room. Understand what it is you would be losing if you didn’t do it. And,” Jen added seriously, “you really need to talk to Grey about this.”

“I know,” Lauren whispered, her stomach twisting at the thought. The noise in the kitchen beyond the locker room door became louder, and she shook her head as she hurriedly rolled her sleeves to her elbows. It was time to go to work. “I’ll talk to her about it tomorrow.”

“You can call her now, if you want. I’ll cover for you.”

Lauren shook her head. “No. Thank you, though. This is…this is not a five-minute conversation, and she’s having dinner with a friend tonight. I’ll just talk to her tomorrow afternoon when she calls. And, besides…”

“You don’t know what you’re going to do yet,” Jen finished for her.

Lauren smiled sadly and nodded. “Yeah.”

Lauren had no better idea of what she was going to do by the time she arrived at Café Belle the next morning, and her first real look at the restaurant did little to add any clarity to her thinking. The facilities were impressive—the dining room was of decent size, cozy, yet intimate, and the kitchen was a chef’s dream with its surprisingly large footprint and gleaming, top-of-the-line equipment—and Lauren found herself liking Jason Whitmore as he gave her a quick tour before beginning they sat down to talk. He was an older gentleman, with salt-and-pepper hair, an infectious smile, and an obvious love for the industry, and she could tell after spending only ten minutes with him that he would be a joy to work for.

After the brief tour the settled down at a table near the kitchen to begin the actual interview process. Lauren tried not to look too pleased when he rattled off the finer points of her résumé from memory, including the mention she had received in
New York Magazine
earlier that year, and she fielded his initial questions easily. She had strong ties to local vendors, so she knew who had the best product at the best price, and had no problem offering up sample seasonal menu ideas. His smile grew wider with every answer she gave, everything about his demeanor telling her that ‘yes, you are the one’, which made her feel more and more queasy.

She still had no idea if this was even what she wanted anymore.

“I must say, I have been quite impressed with your answers so far, and I think you will make a most excellent addition to our staff.” Whitmore leaned back in his chair and played with the stem of his water glass. “I just have one more question for you, if you don’t mind.”

Lauren nodded and folded her hands on the table. “Of course.”

He smiled. “Tell me about your favorite meal you cooked. Who was it for, and what was the menu?”

Lauren’s drifted to a quiet night in Hawksnest Bay and the feeling of Grey’s arms around her waist, as soft lips brushed lightly over her neck, teasing the marks that had been left there
. She remembered the way Grey smiled at her and the way the brunette’s eyes burned with a quiet affection as they ate at the counter, legs brushing together as, even after an afternoon of making love, they had been unable to resist touching each other some more. She remembered the way she felt when Grey confessed to being genuinely happy, how their being together helped her feel whole. She remembered their astronomy lesson, making out under the stars, and the aching softness of Grey’s hands on her later that night, every touch a silent declaration of deeper emotions neither of them had felt comfortable confessing at the time.

“I…” Lauren cleared her throat softly. She finally had her answer and, to be honest, it was one that she had known in her heart all along. “I’m afraid, sir, that my favorite meal had nothing to do with the food and everything to do with the woman I made it for. The meal itself was simple—lightly seared Ahi steaks that I had rubbed with a ginger-wasabi blend and some jasmine rice on the side—but the company…” Her voice trailed off again, and she flashed him an apologetic smile. “If you had called me about this position two months ago, I would have jumped at the opportunity. Your restaurant really is incredible. This dining room
—” she waved a hand around them, “—gorgeous. The kitchen is a chef’s dream.” She shook her head and sighed. “But it’s not my dream anymore, I’m afraid.”

“I see,” Whitmore murmured. His smile turned softer, and he nodded. “I met my wife the summer before I was to study abroad at Oxford for a year, and I know that look in your eyes well. Young love certainly does leave a special glow on us all. I must admit that I am disappointed you will not be joining Café Belle, but I do understand. If you ever
change your mind and decide that this is something you are interested in pursuing, please do not hesitate to give me a call.”

Lauren smiled, touched by his offer. He really was a rare gem of a man in an industry as cut-throat as theirs. “Of course. Thank you, sir.”

“Jason, please.” He stood and held out his hand. “I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors, Chef Murphy.”

Lauren took a deep breath and she shook his hand. “Thank you.”

Somehow, Lauren was not surprised to find Jen waiting on a bench outside the restaurant when she stepped onto the sidewalk, and she smiled as she caught her eye. “Are you stalking me?”

“I am.” Jen grinned and nodded. “So…how’d it go?”

“Really, really well,” Lauren said, glancing over her shoulder at the glass door behind her. She tucked her hair behind her ears and sighed as she turned back toward Jen. “But I turned him down.”