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Susan Mallery

MILLS & BOON

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER ONE

PENNY JACKSON KNEW that it was probably wrong to be so excited to see her ex-husband come crawling back, but she was willing to live with the character flaw.

“You know he’s going to want to hire you,” her friend Naomi said.

“Oh, yeah. The sweet smell of validation.” Penny leaned back in her chair and considered the possibilities. “I want him to beg. Not in a vicious, I hate your guts way, but more as a…”

“Show of support for divorced women everywhere?” Naomi asked.

Penny laughed. “Exactly. I suppose that makes me petty and small.”

“Maybe, but you’re looking especially fabulous today, if that helps.”

“A little.” Penny smoothed the front of her loose sweater and glanced at the clock. “We’re meeting for lunch downtown. A neutral location—no memories, good or bad.”

“Stay away from the good ones,” Naomi warned her. “You always were a sucker where Cal was concerned.”

“That was so three years ago. I’m completely over him. I’ve moved on.”

“Right.” Naomi didn’t look convinced. “Don’t think about how great he looks in his clothes, or out of them. Instead remember how he broke your heart, lied about wanting children and trampled your fragile dreams.”

Easy enough, Penny thought, a flicker of annoyance muscling in on her good mood.

Nearly as bad, four years ago she’d applied for a job as a cook in Buchanan’s, one of Cal’s family’s restaurants. The job had been strictly entry-level—she would have been in charge of salads. There had been ten other applicants. Worried she wouldn’t make the cut, Penny had asked her then-husband to put in a good word for her with his grandmother. He’d refused and she hadn’t gotten the job.

“This time the job is coming to me,” Penny said. “I intend to take advantage of that. And him. In a strictly business way, of course.”

“Of course,” Naomi echoed, not sounding the least bit convinced. “He’s trouble for you. Always has been. Be careful.”

Penny stood and reached for her purse. “When am I not?”

“Ask for lots of money.”

“I promise.”

“Don’t think about having sex with him.”

Penny laughed. “Oh, please. That isn’t an issue. You’ll see.”

PENNY ARRIVED EARLY , then stayed in her car until five minutes after the appointed time. A small, possibly insignificant power play on her part, but she figured she’d earned it.

She walked into the quiet leather-and-linen bistro. Before she could approach the hostess, she saw Cal standing by a booth in the back. They might have friends in common, and live in the same city, but since she’d done her darnedest to avoid close proximity to him they never ran into each other. This lunch was going to change that.

“Hi,” she said with a breezy smile.

“Penny.” He looked her over, then motioned to the other side of the booth. “Thanks for joining me.”

“How could I refuse? You wouldn’t say much over the phone, which made me curious.” She slid onto the seat.

Cal looked good. Tall, muscled, the same soulful eyes she remembered. Just sitting across from him caused her body to remember what it had been like back when things had been good and they’d been unable to keep their hands off each other. Not that she was interested in him in that way. She’d learned her lesson.

Plus, she couldn’t forgive the fact that in the three years they’d been apart, he hadn’t had the common courtesy to get fat or wrinkled. Nope, he was gorgeous—which was just like a man.

Still, he needed her help. Oh, yeah, that part was very cool. While they’d been married the message had been she wasn’t good enough. Now he wanted her to save the day…or the restaurant, in this case. While she planned to say yes, eventually, she was going to enjoy every second of making him beg.

“The Waterfront is in trouble,” he said, then paused as the waitress came by to take their order.

When the woman left, Penny leaned back in the tufted seat of the booth and smiled. “I’d heard it was more than in trouble. I’d heard the place was done for. Hemorrhaging customers and money.”

She blinked, going for an innocent expression. No doubt Cal would see through her attempt and want to strangle her. But he couldn’t. Because he needed her. Was, in fact, desperate for her help. How she loved that in a man. Especially in Cal.

“Things have been better,” he admitted, looking as if he hated every second of the conversation.

“The Waterfront is the oldest restaurant in the infamous Buchanan dynasty,” she said cheerfully. “The flagship. Or it used to be. Now you have a reputation for bad food and worse service.” She sipped her water. “At least that’s the word on the street.”

“Thanks for the update.”

His jaw tightened as he spoke. She could tell he was furious about this meeting. She had an idea of what he was thinking—of all the chefs in all of Seattle, why did it have to be her?

She didn’t know either, but sometimes a girl couldn’t help catching a break.

“Your contract is up,” he said.

She smiled. “Yes, it is.”

“You’re looking for a new position.”

“Yes, I am.”

“I’d like to hire you.”

Five little words. Words that weren’t significant on their own, but when joined together, could mean the world to someone. In this case, her.

“I’ve had other offers,” Penny said calmly.

“Have you accepted any of them?”

“Not yet.”

Cal was tall, about six-three, with dark hair. His face was all sculpted cheekbones and stubborn jaw, and his mouth frequently betrayed his mood. Right now it was thin and straight. He was so angry, he practically spouted steam. She’d never felt better.

“I’m here to offer you a five-year contract. You get complete control of the kitchen, the standard agreement.” He named a salary that made her blink.

Penny took another sip of her water. In truth she didn’t want just another job. She wanted her own place. But opening a restaurant took serious money, which she didn’t have. Her choices were to take on more partners than she wanted or wait. She’d decided to wait.

Her plan was to spend the next three years putting away money, then open the restaurant of her dreams. So while a big salary was nice, it wasn’t enough.

“Not interested,” she said, with a slight smile.

Cal’s gaze narrowed. “What do you want? Aside from my head on a stick.”

Her smile turned genuine. “I’ve never wanted that,” she told him. “Well, not after the divorce was final. It’s been three years, Cal. I’ve long since moved on. Haven’t you?”

“Of course. Then why aren’t you interested? It’s a good job.”

“I’m not looking for a job. I want an opportunity.”

“Meaning?”

“More than the standard agreement. I want my name out front and complete creative control in back.” She reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “I have a list.”

DOING THE RIGHT THING had always been a pain in the ass, Cal thought as he took the sheet and unfolded it. This time was no different.

He scanned the list, then tossed it back to her. Penny didn’t want an opportunity, she wanted his balls sautéed with garlic and a nice cream sauce.

“No,” he said flatly, ignoring the way the afternoon sunlight brought out the different colors of red and brown in her auburn hair.

“Fine by me.” She picked up the sheet and started to slide out of the booth. “Nice to see you, Cal. Good luck with the restaurant.”

He reached across the table and grabbed her wrist. “Wait.”

“But if we have nothing to talk about…”

She looked innocent enough, he thought as he gazed into her big blue eyes, but he knew better than to believe the wide-eyed stare.

Penny could be convinced to take the job; otherwise she wouldn’t have bothered with a meeting. Playing him for a fool wasn’t her style. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t enjoy making him beg.

Given their past, he supposed he’d earned it. So he would bargain with her, giving in where he had to. He would even have enjoyed the negotiation if only she didn’t look so damn smug.

He rubbed his thumb across her wrist bone, knowing she would hate that. She’d always lamented her large forearms, wrists and hands, claiming they were out of proportion with the rest of her body. He’d thought she was crazy to obsess about a flaw that didn’t exist. Besides, she had chef’s hands—scarred, nimble and strong. He’d always liked her hands, whether they were working on food in the kitchen or working on him in the bedroom.

“Not going to happen,” he said, nodding his head at the paper and releasing his hold on her. “You know that, too. So where’s the real list?”

She grinned and eased back into the booth. “I heard you were desperate. I had to try.”

“Not that desperate. What do you want?”

“Creative freedom on the menus, complete control over the back half of the store, my name on the menu, ownership of any specialty items I create, the right to refuse any general manager you try to stuff down my throat, four weeks vacation a year and ten percent of the profits.”

The waitress appeared with their lunches. He’d ordered a burger, Penny a salad. But not just any salad. Their server laid out eight plates with various ingredients in front of Penny’s bowl of four kinds of lettuce.

As he watched, she put olive oil, balsamic vinaigrette and ground pepper into a coffee cup, then squeezed in half a lemon. After whisking them with her fork, she dumped the diced, smoked chicken and feta onto her salad, then sniffed the candied pecans before adding them. She passed over walnuts, took only half of the tomato, added red onions instead of green and then put on her dressing. After tossing everything, she stacked the plates and took her first bite of lunch.

“How is it?” he asked.

“Good.”

“Why do you bother eating out?”

“I don’t usually.”

She hadn’t before, either. She’d been content to whip up something incredible in their kitchen and he’d been happy to let her.

He returned his attention to her demands. He wouldn’t give her everything she wanted on general principle. Plus it was just plain bad business.

“You can have creative control over the menus and the back half of the store,” he said. “Specialty items stay with the house.”

Anything a chef created while in the employ of a restaurant was owned by that restaurant.

“I want to be able to take them with me when I go.” She forked a piece of lettuce. “It’s a deal-breaker, Cal.”

“You’ll come up with something new there.”

“The point is I don’t want to create something wonderful and leave it in your family’s less than capable hands.” She glanced at him. “Before you get all defensive, let me point out that five years ago, The Waterfront had a waiting list every single weekend.”

“You can have your name on the menu,” he said. “As executive chef.”

He saw her stiffen. She’d never had that title before. It would mean something now.

“And three percent of the profits,” he added.

“Eight.”

“Four.”

“Six.”

“Five,” he said. “But you don’t get a say in the general manager.”

“I have to work with him or her.”

“And he or she has to work with you.”

She grinned. “But I have a reputation of being nothing but sunshine and light in the workplace. You know that.”

He’d heard she was a perfectionist and relentless in her quest for quality. She had also been called difficult, annoying and just plain brilliant.

“You can’t dictate the GM,” he said. “He’s already been hired. At least in the short term.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Who is it?”

“You’ll find out later. Besides, the first guy’s just coming in to do cleanup. Someone else will be hired in a few months. You can have a say on him or her.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Interesting. A gunslinger coming in to clean up the town. I think I like that.” She drew in a breath. “How about five percent of the profits, a three-year deal, I get some say in the next GM and I take my specialty items with me.” She held up her hand. “But only to my own place and you can keep them on The Waterfront menu as well.”

He wasn’t surprised she wanted to branch out on her own. Most good chefs did. Few had the capital or the management skills.

“Oh, and that salary you offered me before was fine,” she said.

“Of course it was,” he told her. “That assumed you didn’t get this other stuff. How many are you bringing with you?”

“Two. My sous-chef and my assistant.”

Chefs usually came with a small staff. As long as they worked well with the others in the kitchen, Cal didn’t care.

“You’ll never take the vacation,” he said. At least she never had before.

“I want it,” she said. “Just so we’re clear, I will be using it.”

He shrugged. “Not until we’re up and running.”

“I was thinking late summer. I’ll have everything together by then.”

Maybe. She hadn’t seen the mess yet.

“Is that it?” he asked.

She considered for a second, then shrugged. “Get me the offer in writing. I’ll look it over and then let you know if we have a deal.”

“You’d never get this much anywhere else. Don’t pretend you’ll back out.”

The smugness returned. “You never know, Cal. I want to hear what your competition puts on the table.”

“I know who’s interested. They’ll never cut you in for that much of the profit.”

“True enough, but their restaurants are successful. A smaller percentage of something is better than a big chunk of nothing.”

“This could make you a star,” he said. “People would notice.”

“People already notice.”

He wanted to tell her she wasn’t all that special. That he could name five chefs who would do as good a job. The problem was he couldn’t. In the past three years, Penny had made a name for herself. He needed that to dig The Waterfront out of its hole.

“I’ll have the agreement couriered over to your place tomorrow afternoon,” he said.

She practically purred her contentment. “Good.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yeah. I won’t even mind working for you because every time you piss me off, I’m going to remind you that you came looking for me. That you needed me.”

Revenge. He respected that. It annoyed him, but he respected it.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked as she picked up a pecan. “You got out of the family business years ago.”

Back when they’d been married, he thought. He’d escaped, only to be dragged in again.

“Someone had to save the sinking ship,” he said.

“Yes, but why you? You don’t care about the family empire.”

He threw twenty dollars on the table and slid out of the booth. “I’ll need your answer within twenty-four hours of you getting the contract.”

“You’ll have it the following morning.”

“Fair enough.” He dropped a business card next to the money. “In case you need to get in touch with me.”

He walked out of the restaurant and headed for his car. Penny was going to say yes. She would screw with him a little, but the deal was too good for her to pass up. If she pulled it off, if she made The Waterfront what it had once been, then in three years she would have more than enough capital to start her own place.

He would be gone long before that. He’d agreed to come in temporarily to get things up and running, but he had no desire to stay to the bitter end. His only concern was saving the sinking ship. Let someone else shine it up and take all the glory. He was only interested in getting out.

PENNY WALKED into the Downtown Sports Bar and Grill a little after two in the afternoon. The lunch crowd had pretty much cleared out, although a few diehards sat watching the array of sports offered on various televisions around the place.

She headed directly for the bar and leaned against the polished wood. “Hi, Mandy. Is he in?” she asked the very large-breasted blonde polishing glasses.

Mandy smiled. “Hi, Penny. Yeah. He’s in his office. Want me to bring you anything?”

Caffeine, Penny thought, then shook her head. “I’m good.”

She walked to the right of the bar, where a small alcove offered restroom choices, a pay phone and a door marked Employees. From there it was a short trip to Reid Buchanan’s cluttered office.

He sat behind a desk as big as a full-size mattress, his feet up on the corner, the telephone cradled between his ear and his shoulder. When he saw her, he rolled his eyes, pointed at the phone, then waved her in.

“I know,” he said as she wove her way around boxes he had yet to unpack. “It is an important event and I’d like to be there, but I have a prior engagement. Maybe next time. Uh-huh. Sure. You, too.”

He hung up the phone and groaned. “Some foreign government trade show crap,” he said.

“What did they want you to do?” she asked as she swept several folders off the only other chair in the office and sank onto the hard wood seat. She dumped the folders onto his already piled desk.

“Not a clue. Show up. Smile for pictures. Maybe give a speech.” He shrugged.

“How much were they willing to pay you?”

He dropped his feet to the floor and turned to face her. “Ten grand. It’s not like I need the money. I hate all that. It’s bogus. I used to play baseball and now I’m here. I’ve retired.”

Just last year, Penny thought. With the start of the regular season just weeks away, Reid had to be missing his former life.

She poked at one of the piles on the desk, then glanced at him. “I distinctly remember you saying you wanted a desk big enough to have sex on. It was a very specific requirement when we went shopping for one. But if you keep it this messy, no one will be interested in getting naked on its very impressive surface.”

He leaned back in his chair and grinned at her. “I don’t need the desk to get ’em naked.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Reid Buchanan was legendary. Not just for his incredible career as a major league pitcher, but for the way women adored him. Part of it was the Buchanan good looks and charm that all the brothers had. Part of it was that Reid just plain loved women. All women. Former girlfriends ranged from the traditional models and actresses to mother-earth tree huggers nearly a decade older than him. Smart, dumb, short, tall, skinny, curvy, he liked them all. And they liked him.

Penny had known Reid for years. She’d met him two days after meeting Cal. She liked to joke that it had been love at first sight with the latter and best friends at first sight with the former.

“You’ll never guess what I did today,” she said.

Reid raised his dark eyebrows. “Darlin’, the way you’ve been surprising me lately, I wouldn’t even try.”

“I had lunch with your brother.”

Reid leaned back in his chair. “I know you mean Cal because Walker is still stationed overseas. Okay, I’ll bite. Why?”

“He offered me a job. He wants me to be the executive chef at The Waterfront.”

“Huh?”

Reid might be a part of the family but until he’d blown out his shoulder in the bottom of the third late last June, he’d never been involved in the business.

“That’s the fish place, right?” he asked.

She laughed. “Yeah. And Buchanan’s is the steak house and you’re running the sports bar and Dani takes care of Burger Heaven. Jeez, Reid, this is your heritage. You have a family empire going here.”

“No. What I have is a two-for-one appetizer special during happy hour. You gonna take the job?”

“I think so.” She leaned forward. “He’s paying me an outrageous salary and I get a percentage of the profits. It’s what I’ve been waiting for. In three years I’ll have enough money to open my own place.”

He looked at her. “I told you I’d give you that money. Just tell me how much and I’ll write you a check.”

She knew he could. Reid had millions invested in all kinds of businesses. But she wouldn’t take a loan from a friend. It was too much like being bailed out by her parents.

“I need to do this on my own,” she said. “You know that.”

“Yeah, yeah. You might want to think about getting that chip off your shoulder, Penny. It’s making you walk funny.”

She ignored that. “I like the idea of bringing back The Waterfront from the dead. I’ll become even more of a star, which will make my restaurant even more successful.”

“Not that you’re letting all this go to your head.”

She laughed. “Look who’s talking. Your ego barely fits inside an airplane hangar.”

Reid walked around the desk and crouched next to her. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her cheek. “If this is what you want, you know I’m there for you.”

“Thanks.” She brushed his dark hair off his forehead and knew that in many ways life would have been a lot simpler if she just could have fallen in love with Reid instead of Cal.

He stood and leaned against the desk. “When do you start?”

“As soon as the paperwork is signed. I’ve heard the old place needs a total renovation, but we don’t have time for that. We’re going to have to make do. I need to put together menus, hire a kitchen staff.”

Reid folded his arms over his chest. “You didn’t tell him, did you?”

She squirmed in her seat. “It’s not important information.”

“Sure it is. Let me guess. You figured he wouldn’t hire you if he knew, but once you’re in place, he can’t fire you for it.”

“Pretty much.”

“Slick, Penny. But it’s not like you to play games.”

“I wanted the job. It was the only way to get it.”

“He’s not going to like it.”

She rose. “I don’t see why it matters one way or the other. Cal and I have been divorced nearly three years. Now we’re going to work together. It’s a very new-millennium relationship.”

Reid looked at her. “Trust me, when my brother finds out you’re pregnant, there’s going to be hell to pay and for more reasons than you know.”

CHAPTER TWO

FOUR DAYS LATER Penny drove to The Waterfront and pulled into the empty parking lot. The day was typical for March, cool, cloudy with a promise of rain later. As she stepped out onto the cracked pavement, she inhaled the smell of wet wood, salt water and fish. There were seagulls crying loudly and an air of desolation to the old building. Several remodels and patch jobs couldn’t disguise that the structure had been through tough times.

There was nothing sadder than a deserted restaurant, she thought. It was midmorning. There should be activity as the prep cooks arrived to start their day. The chef should have already planned the specials and checked on deliveries. There should be the scent of lingering wood smoke from the grill and a savory hint of spices. Instead a page from the Seattle Times blew past her car.

This was her place now. She’d signed the papers and delivered them back to Cal’s office. For the next three years, this was her world and she was master of its fate.

Excitement and anticipation knotted in her stomach. Under normal circumstances she would celebrate with friends, food and wine. For now the wine would have to wait.

“For a good cause,” she whispered as she put a hand on her stomach.

A car pulled into the parking lot. She turned to watch a dark blue BMW Z4 pull up next to her. She eyed the expensive convertible and thought of at least a half-dozen comments she could make when Cal climbed out. Had he been paying attention to the weather for the past thirty-one years? Was a convertible in winter really a smart idea?

But when he opened the door and stepped out, she found herself unable to do much more than smile and wave. As he straightened to his full six-plus feet and adjusted his leather jacket, she felt like a bit player in a men’s cologne commercial. Her job was to watch the male model in question while staring with slack-jawed adoration. Any speaking parts would have to be played by someone with a functioning brain.

Not good, she thought as her throat got tight, her thighs trembled and her already sensitive breasts seemed to strain toward him. Under the circumstances, a visceral reaction to her ex-husband seemed like a very bad idea.

She wasn’t worried about them actually meaning anything. She was pregnant, which meant spending her days in a hormone bath. She teared up at Hallmark commercials, sobbed when little kids clutched puppies and generally wanted to send the world a candygram.

Nope, whatever she felt this moment about Cal had nothing to do with him and everything to do with the pencil eraser-sized zygote in her tummy.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t fully capable of making a fool out of herself.

She had to remind herself she was a big, bad chef with a reputation for being tough and difficult and something of a perfectionist. She worked with very sharp knives for a living. She could snap chicken bones with her bare hands.

“Ready to take on the world?” Cal asked as he approached.

“Sure. At least my little part of it.” She followed him toward the front door. “I’m going to need a key.”

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a ring. “They’re marked. Front and back doors. All the storerooms. The wine cellar and liquor storage.”

He unlocked the right side of the wood-and-glass double door, then stepped aside to let her enter. She pushed into the dim, open space, then wished she hadn’t when the smell hit her.

“What is that?” she asked, waving her hand in front of her nose. The odor was an unfortunate combination of singed fur, decaying fish and meat and rotting wood.

“It’s a little strong,” Cal admitted. “The storerooms weren’t cleaned out before the place was shut down. When I came by last week, the smell was worse.”

She couldn’t imagine worse. As it was, she had to fight to keep from throwing up. In the nearly four months she’d been pregnant, she’d never had a moment of nausea until now.

Cal propped open the front doors and turned on the fans. “It’ll get better in a moment.”

She rubbed her shoe against the carpet. “The stink isn’t going to come out with just a cleaning.”

“I know. There’s hardwood everywhere in the dining room but here. We’ll refinish the floors, then replace this carpeting.”

She hoped that would be enough.

At least the space was good. High ceiling and big windows. People dining on the water generally wanted to look at the view. She saw large easels with renderings of the dining room. Cal stepped toward them.

“As you can see, we’re making cosmetic changes. We don’t have time for a total remodel.”

“Uh-huh.”

Penny walked past him. The front of the store wasn’t her concern, nor did it interest her all that much. She had other places she would rather be—namely the kitchen.

She walked to the back of the dining room and through the large, single swinging door. The smell was worse here, but she ignored it as she took in what would be her domain.

At least it was clean, she thought as she looked at the large wood grill, the steamer, the eight burners, the ovens. There was the prep area, a long, stainless counter with a sink for salad, stacks of pots, sauté pans and bowls. She didn’t even have to close her eyes to know what it would be like. The blinding heat from the grill and the burners. The hiss of the steam, the yells of “order up” or “ready to fire.”

Because of the age of the restaurant, the kitchen was large and well ventilated. The mats looked new and when she picked up one of the pots, it was heavy and of good quality. Now for the storeroom.

“You could pretend to be interested,” Cal said from just inside the kitchen.

She turned to him. “In what?”

“The front of the store. The color scheme and how the tables will be set up.”

“Oh, sure.” She thought for a second, not sure what to say. “It was great. Impressive.”

“Do you think I’m fooled?”

“No, but you shouldn’t be surprised, either. The only thing I care about is how big the dining room is and the table configuration.”

It was important to know how many tables of six and eight and the policy on large parties. There were few things a kitchen staff hated more than a surprise order for twelve.

“I’ll get you that information,” he said. “So what do you think?”

She grinned. “Not bad. I’ll need to take a complete inventory. How much is my budget for new equipment?”

“Get me a list of what you need and I’ll get back to you.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m the executive chef. I should have final say on what I buy.”

“You forget that I know you. You’ll be online picking up God knows what from Germany and France and sucking down twenty grand before I blink.”

She turned away so he wouldn’t see her smile. “I’d never do that.”

“Oh, right. This from a woman who asked for a set of knives for her wedding present.”

She spun back to face him, more than ready to take him on. “Cal—”

He cut her off with a quick shake of his head. “Sorry. I won’t bring up our marriage again.”

“Good.”

News of her relationship, or former relationship, with Cal Buchanan would be common knowledge to the kitchen staff within fifteen minutes of opening. Kitchens didn’t have secrets. But that didn’t mean she wanted it shoved in their faces. Or hers.

Seeing Cal, talking to him, was strange. She wasn’t sure what she felt. Not angry. Awkward maybe. Sad. Things had been good once. But he hadn’t cared. He’d…

Okay, maybe she was a little angry. It had been three years. Who would have guessed there would be so much unfinished emotion?

At least she wasn’t going to have to deal with him on a regular basis.

“I’ll get you a list,” she said. “I’ll take an inventory after we’re done.”

“Okay.” He looked at her. “Try not to scream.”

“About what?”

“There are contracts in place.”

She knew he didn’t mean with employees, which only left food and services.

“Not my problem,” she told him.

“It is, because you have to deal with them.”

So typical, she thought. Cal was management. He might intellectually understand what it took to get dinner out for two or three hundred, but he didn’t feel it in his soul.

“I’m not working with crap,” she said.

“Can they screw up before you assume it’s crap?”

“If the food had been good quality, the restaurant wouldn’t be shut down,” she told him. “So there was something wrong, and I’m guessing it was the food. I have my own people I like to deal with.”

“We have contracts.”

“No, you have contracts.”

“You’re getting a cut now, Penny. You’re part of us.”

As there weren’t any profits from which to get a cut, it wasn’t a happy thought. “I want to bring in my own suppliers.”

“We honor these first.”

She recognized the stubborn set of his mouth. She could fight and scream and possibly threaten physical violence, but he wouldn’t back down. Her only option was logic.

“Fine. I’ll use them for now, but if they screw up even once, it’s over. I’ll go to someone else.”

“Fair enough.”

“You better have a talk with them. I’ll put money on the fact that they haven’t been delivering their best here. That had better change.”

“I’ll get on it.” He pulled a PalmPilot out of his jacket pocket and wrote on the small screen. Cal was such a guy—always in love with his toys.

“Shouldn’t the new general manager be handling that?” she asked. “Don’t you have coffee you should be selling?”

“Funny you should mention that,” he said.

She leaned against the counter and looked at him. All the warning signs were there—the brightness in his eyes, the slight smile, his sense of being totally in charge of the situation. Not that he was. This was her dream they were talking about and she wasn’t going to let anyone mess with it.

“Let me guess,” she said dryly. “I’m not going to like who you’ve hired.”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, then smiled. “It’s me.”

She’d been expecting either a name she didn’t recognize or someone she’d worked with in the past and hadn’t liked. But Cal? Her stomach heaved once as emotion flooded her.

No. Not Cal. So not a good idea.

“You won’t have time,” she said quickly. Oh, sure, he was good—she remembered that much. He’d walked away from the family steak house to start his own thing, but it hadn’t been because he was failing. On the contrary, profits had been up substantially. But here? Now?

“I’m taking a leave for four months,” he said. “I’ll still go in to The Daily Grind office, but just for a few hours a week. My focus is The Waterfront.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when I asked the first time?”

“I thought you’d turn down the job.”

Would she have? She wasn’t sure. Not that she would let him know she wasn’t sure.

She laughed. “Gee, Cal, I thought your brother was the one with the big ego. Now I see it runs in the family.”

He didn’t even look uncomfortable, which was just like him. Instead he stared at her.

“Given our past, it was a reasonable assumption. Working together under any circumstances could be challenging, but in a restaurant…” His voice trailed off.

She turned away. Her point exactly. “I don’t care who I work with as long as he or she is good at the job. So show up, give a hundred and fifty percent, and we’ll be fine.”

“Penny?”

She breathed deeply, not wanting to give in to the anger inside of her. Deep, buried anger that made her want to lash out. It was the past, she told herself. It was long over. She had to remember that.

But her list of grievances—his wrongs—wouldn’t go away. She wanted to scream them all and demand explanations. Talk about unreasonable.

Still, she couldn’t help venting about at least one of them. An easy one that didn’t really matter anymore.

She turned back to him and put her hands on her hips. “What the hell was wrong with you?” she demanded. “I was your wife. It was a dumb entry-level job. Salads, Cal. Just salads. Why couldn’t you pick up the phone and put in a good word for me? Was it because you thought I couldn’t handle it?”

That’s what she’d always wondered, but hadn’t been able to ask. That he hadn’t believed in her. Because what else could it be? But she hadn’t been sure, and now she wanted to know.

He took a step toward her, then stopped and shook his head. “You make me crazy. It’s been what, four years since that job interview? Does it really matter?”

“Yes. It does.”

He shifted. “You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in you. Never that. You were great. The best. It was about my family.”

She frowned. “What? That your grandmother would see your wife working? She already knew I had a job, Cal. It wouldn’t have been a surprise.”

“No. I didn’t want you involved with her. Exposed to her.”

Penny knew he and Gloria had never been close, but she had a hard time believing that was the reason.

“I grew up with two sisters, and the three of us had to share a bathroom,” she said. “I know how to play well with others.”

“I didn’t want to risk it. I didn’t want to risk you. It was never about you doing the job.”

She didn’t actually believe him, but as he’d mentioned, what was the point in fighting about it now? He’d come back, begging her to work for him and she’d agreed.

“Whatever,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll accept you as the temporary GM. Just don’t get in my way.”

“Not my style.”

“It is interesting,” she told him. “I distinctly remember you once telling me hell would freeze over before we would ever work together.”

“You’re taking that out of context. We were married at the time. A restaurant is too small for a married couple to coexist in.”

“You sure made a lot of pronouncements back then. How many of them were accurate?”

She expected him to be annoyed that she’d dared to question him. Instead he grinned. “I figure about sixty percent.”

“You’re being generous.”

“That’s because of the subject matter.”

“Yourself?”

The grin broadened. “Who else?”

“Men,” she grumbled, shrugging out of her coat and dropping it onto the counter. She was careful to keep her back to him so he wouldn’t see her smile.

She could see that Cal still had the ability to make her want to chop him up into matchstick-size pieces, but he’d never been boring.

“We’re not married now,” she said. “I’m sure we’ll do fine together, as long as you remember where your authority ends.” She turned to him and pointed at the entrance to the kitchen. “This is my world. Don’t even think about stepping into it and taking charge.”

“Fair enough. And Gloria has promised to stay out of the restaurant, except as a customer. It was part of the deal to get me back. She won’t be bothering you, either.”

“Good to know.” While she didn’t think his grandmother was the demon he did, she and the older woman had never been exactly close. Whenever Penny was around, Gloria had a way of sniffing the air as if the odor was unpleasant.

She pulled a notepad out of her pocket. “Okay, let’s talk specifics. I need about a week to get the kitchen up and running. I already have a lot of ideas about staffing, so there’s only cleaning and stocking both equipment and food. Before I can stock, we need to talk menus.”

“When will you have them finished? I get final approval.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Are you going to tell me what to cook?”

“In this matter, yes.”

She didn’t think so, but she would pick that battle when the menus were done. “I’ll let you know how it’s going in a couple of days. How much time do you need for the front of the store?”

“Two weeks.”

He used a slender stylus to access information on his Palm Pilot. She moved closer to look over his shoulder.

Big mistake. Suddenly she was aware of him. Heat from his body seemed to warm her from the inside out. She breathed in the scent of him. Unfortunately, he still smelled the same. Just clean male skin and something that was uniquely his own.

Scent memories were powerful. She’d learned that in culinary school and often used the fact to her advantage when cooking. Now she was trapped in a swirl of memories that included lying naked next to him, listening to his breathing after he’d just left her trembling and exhausted from sexual satisfaction.

She took a big step away.

“I assume there’s a plan for the opening,” she said, happy that her voice sounded normal. Sexual thoughts were so inappropriate where Cal was concerned. Not only were they divorced, she was pregnant. She doubted he would find that a turn-on.

“I want a big splashy party on the first night. No dinner service, just a crowd and samples. You’ll be able to show off what’s to come. We’ll invite local press and the beautiful people.”

She smiled. “The beautiful people?”

He shook his head. “Business leaders, celebrities, whatever.”

“They’ll be so happy to hear how enthused you sound.”

“I want the restaurant up and running. The party is a necessary evil.”

“Don’t put that on the invitation,” she suggested. “I’ll work up a menu for that as soon as I finalize the menu for the restaurant. And just so you know, I’ll use your contracted people for regular deliveries, until they screw up, but for the party, I’m getting my own stuff in here. I have some fish people I use.”

“Actual fish people?” he asked. “Gills? Fins?”

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. I’ll be using them for special orders.”

“Fair enough.”

She studied the notes on her pad. What else was there to discuss? She looked at him. “Did you have…” She frowned, catching his puzzled stare. “What?”

He took a step back. “Nothing.”

“You have the weirdest look on your face. What are you thinking about?”

“I said nothing.”

“It has to be something.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Cal swore silently. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten caught staring at a woman’s chest. What did he care about Penny’s parts?

He didn’t. He hadn’t in years. It was just…she looked different. There was an air of confidence he didn’t remember. That could have come from her recent success. But there was also the issue of her breasts.

They were bigger. He was sure of it. He dropped his gaze to her chest, then looked away. Yup, bigger. Her sweater hugged her curves before falling to just below her waist. He’d been married to her, had seen her naked countless times. While he’d always liked her body, she’d complained about being too boyish. All angles and lines. Her breasts had been small. But now…

They were bigger. How could that happen? Oh, sure, he knew about implants, but Penny wasn’t the type, was she? And if she was willing to have surgery to increase her cleavage, wouldn’t she have gone for more than a cup size?

He shook his head and told himself to think of something else. He was the cofounder of a multimillion-dollar corporation and in charge of a good-sized restaurant. He was also over thirty. Surely he could get through the rest of the meeting without obsessing over his ex-wife’s breasts.

“Who are you bringing with you?” he asked to change the subject. “You said two people.”

“Edouard, my sous-chef, and Naomi.”

He swore. “No.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Excuse me, but you don’t get a vote. She helps me. Naomi handles things for me and she’s the best expediter in the business. We’ll need that when we get busy.”

He knew that a good expediter was worth any price when the restaurant was swamped. Someone had to get plates out to tables, making sure the various parties were all served the right food at the right time. The expediter was usually loyal to the back of the store, while helping out in the front. The expediter knew everything that was going on in both places and could keep the chef in the loop.

“How do you know we’re going to be that busy?” he asked. “It takes time to build up a clientele.”

She smiled. “Hey, it’s me. They’ll come.”

“Talk about my ego,” he grumbled.

“No, thanks.”

She went down her list and brought up several more items. “I’ll be paying my cooks really well, so brace yourself.”

“I have a budget.”

“And a restaurant with a reputation for serving horrible food. You’re only here for four months, Cal. I know what that means. You want to dazzle, then get out. I’m fine with that, but dazzle don’t come cheap.”

“Keep it reasonable.”

“I’ll do what it takes.”

He liked that she pushed back. She’d come into her own.

“Let’s meet on Monday and see where we are,” he said. “Say noon?”

“I’ll be here, holding interviews. Come by when it’s convenient.” She put down her pad. “I’m going to stay and look over the kitchen.”

“You have the keys. Just lock up when you’re ready to go.”

“Sure.” She smiled and turned away, which put her in profile. His gaze dropped to her breasts. What the hell was up with that?

AFTER HIS MEETING with Penny, Cal returned to his office at the headquarters of The Daily Grind. He’d nearly cleared up everything for his four-month absence, but there were a few final details.

He made his way to his office and checked his messages. His assistant would contact him directly at The Waterfront if anything came up while he was gone and he would have biweekly meetings with his partners during that period.

The corporate headquarters were on the top floor of an old manufacturing building by the 5 freeway. He could see across much of downtown, toward Lake Union and the Space Needle. On a clear day, he could see farther, but this was Seattle and there weren’t that many clear days. Even now a light rain fell against his floor-to-ceiling windows and the skylights overhead.

He settled into work, only to have his assistant buzz him twenty minutes later.

“Your grandmother is here,” she murmured.

Cal wished briefly for an excuse not to see her. Unfortunately the downside of saving The Waterfront was closer contact with the old woman.

“Send her in.”

He rose and walked around the desk to greet her. Gloria Buchanan swept into the office with the grace and style of someone born in a much more elegant age.

She was slender and of medium height. She stood straight, despite her seventy-plus years, wearing a tailored suit and dangerously high heels. Her hair was white and always perfect, her face relatively unlined. Dani, his sister, swore Gloria had had cosmetic surgery. That, or she really was a witch and could summon supernatural forces to keep her looking good.

“Gloria,” he said as he pulled out a chair.

She nodded and took the seat. As he sat across from her, he thought about the fact that he had never called her Grandmother. Not even when he’d been young. She’d discouraged it from the start.

She shrugged out of her white fur-trimmed coat and set her pale-blue purse on the carpet next to her feet.

“I assume you’re ready to make the transition,” she said.

He nodded. “I’ll be at my office at The Waterfront starting tomorrow.”

She glanced around the spacious office and sniffed. “It’s not as if you’ll miss this place.”

“Of course I will. We started with nothing and built an empire worth millions.” Something a normal person would respect, he thought grimly.

“Oh, yes. Beverages and cookies. Quite the empire,” Gloria said.

Cal had learned there was no point in arguing with her. She saw the world as she wanted to, and from what he could tell, her view was cold and depressing.

“You’re not here to talk about The Daily Grind,” he said. “So why don’t you get to the point?”

“I want to talk about the restaurant,” she said.

“No, you don’t.”

Her dark blue eyes widened slightly. “Excuse me?”

“Tread carefully,” he told her. “There are specific rules in play. If you get in my face about any detail of the restaurant, I quit. I promised you a turnaround in four months, on the condition that you stay away. I meant it. One word of advice, one suggestion and it’s all over.”

“You’d really walk away from your legacy?” she asked, her expression both annoyed and imperious.

“I already have. It’s easier than you’d think.”

“I have bled for this family and our company,” she told him, her voice icy. “I have given up a life of my own.”

He’d heard it all before. “You’ve done exactly what you wanted,” he reminded her. “Anyone who stood in your way got taken down and thrown to the side of the road.”

She’d lived and breathed the family business for as long as he had been alive and he suspected the obsession had started long before then. Gloria would do anything to promote the Buchanan name. The irony was she wasn’t even a blood Buchanan. She’d married into the family.

“Let’s be clear,” he said. “I’m not doing this for you. I’m only coming in to help because of my brothers and Dani. Hell, Dani should be the one saving The Waterfront. She cares about it more than the rest of us combined.”

Gloria’s eyes narrowed. “Dani isn’t—”

He cut her off with a shake of his head. “Spare me the lecture. It’s boring. Like I said, I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it in case one of us has kids who care. I’m putting in my four months and then I’m walking away without looking back.”

“You make it sound like a prison sentence.”

“In some ways it is.”

“Callister.”

He looked at her and for the first time she actually seemed old. Frail, even. But he knew better than to be sucked in by her tricks. She was a wily old bird and he’d been pecked more than once.

“Fine. Four months,” she said. “I heard who you hired as the chef.”

Her tone indicated he might have made a deal with the devil.

“She does great work and her name will bring in customers,” he said. “She drove a hard bargain, but I got her and that’s what matters.”

“I see.” Gloria didn’t sound as if she could see at all. She sounded annoyed.

Cal wondered what the old bat had against Penny, aside from the fact that she, Gloria, hadn’t handpicked her.

He knew Penny hadn’t believed that he’d done his damnedest to keep her off his grandmother’s radar when they’d been married. Back then he’d been afraid of what the old woman could do.

Now, everything was different. Penny had a reputation for being tough. He was willing to bet she could hold her own against Gloria. They would butt heads eventually; he only hoped he was around to see the show.

“If Penny cooks, they will come,” he said.

Gloria shifted in her seat. “I hope there won’t be any unfortunate incidents in our establishment.”

Cal knew he was being set up, but his curiosity was too strong for him to ignore the lure. The only thing he knew about Penny’s life since the divorce were the odd bits Reid dropped in casual conversation.

“What incidents?” he asked.

“She once stabbed a member of her staff. Apparently the man wouldn’t do what she said, so she took a kitchen knife to him.”

Cal started to laugh. Gloria glared at him.

“It’s not funny. She’s practically a murderer.”

He continued to chuckle. “Was she charged with anything?”

“I’m sure I don’t know.”

Which meant she hadn’t been. “I hope the story’s true,” he said, still amused. “I can’t wait to ask her for all the details.”

CHAPTER THREE

“IT’S ALL FINE and good to look at qualifications,” Naomi said. “But I want someone I can have sex with.”

Penny ignored her friend and glanced at the application in front of her. “I hear good things about him,” she said, making notes on a pad. “Put him on the list.”

“But he’s married and he doesn’t cheat.” There was a definite whine in Naomi’s voice. “I can accept one, but not the other.”

“We are talking about raising a restaurant from the dead. Not your sex life.”

“Why do they have to be mutually exclusive? I can be a good employee and have a great sex life. In fact, getting laid on a regular basis keeps me cheerful.”

Penny looked at her papers so Naomi wouldn’t see her smile. “Focus,” she said.

Naomi sighed. “You’re less fun now that you’re in charge.”

“And likely to stay that way. Who’s next?”

While Naomi shuffled through papers, Penny glanced around the transformed dining room. The place had been painted and there were new window coverings. The old carpet was up and the floors had been refinished. The scent of varnish competed with the smell of cleanser and bleach coming from the kitchen. The horrible odor of rotting food had been driven from the place, which made Penny grateful. She was well into her fourth month and she didn’t want to experience morning sickness at this late date.

“Asshole alert at ten o’clock,” Naomi muttered.

Penny turned and saw Cal walking toward them. He looked good—tall and handsome, wearing a black leather bomber jacket and jeans. He walked with an easy, loose-hipped grace that all the Buchanan men had. Good genes, she thought, which, unfortunately, came from Gloria. Penny might not like the old woman but she knew her stubbornness and determination had been passed on to her grandchildren.

“He’s not an asshole anymore,” Penny said, ignoring the sudden quivering in her belly. “He’s our boss.”

“To me, he’ll always be the jerk who made you cry for two weeks straight when he walked out on you.”

Technically Penny had been the one to move out of the apartment, but she knew what Naomi meant. Cal had done nothing to keep her and certainly hadn’t come after her.

“That was a long time ago,” Penny reminded her. “I’ve let it go. You should work on that, too.”

“Maybe.”

Cal approached the table. “Ladies.” He held out a cardboard container with three cups of coffee. “A little something to help with the hiring process.”

Naomi grabbed a cup and looked at The Daily Grind logo. “I’m more a Starbucks person, but any port in a storm.”

“Nice,” Cal said, looking at her. “Hello, Naomi. It’s been a long time.”

“It has.” She stood. In her black leather boots, she was nearly eye-to-eye with Cal. “How’s it going?”

“Great.”

“I hear you’re in charge.”

“That’s right.”

She took a sip of the coffee. “Every time I go into one of your stores, I remember the time I saw you naked. It always gives me a little giggle.”

With that, she strolled away.

Penny closed her eyes and winced. Unfortunately Naomi had seen Cal naked. She’d walked in on them making love, once. After retreating, she’d stood behind the closed door and complained bitterly about people who didn’t have the common courtesy to at least make some noise while doing it so the world could know what they were up to and not accidentally walk in.

Cal took the seat she’d vacated and picked up one of the remaining coffees. “Do you really need her?” he asked.

“Sorry, yes. She’s great at her job and she watches my back.” Naomi would also take some of the heat off Penny as her pregnancy progressed. “We’ve become something of a team.”

“Great.”

“You’re only here for four months,” Penny reminded him. “How bad could it be?”

“We’re talking about Naomi. It could be a disaster.”

“Not for our big, bad general manager.”

He looked at her. “I don’t think I detect enough reverence in your voice. This is my restaurant and while I’m here, I’m a god.”

“I must have missed that memo. Could you resend it to me?”

“I’ll bring you a copy myself.” He glanced around the dining room. “What do you think?”

She followed his gaze. “It’s fine.”

“Fine? Do you know how much this is costing?”

“Nope. And I don’t much care. The front of the store is your business.”

He shook his head. “You haven’t changed. What happens when you open your own place? You’ll have to deal with the front of the store then.”

“I’ll manage. Naomi has fabulous taste.”

“Are you sure she won’t want to turn it into some kind of sex shop?”

Penny considered the question. “Good point. Then I’ll talk to Reid. I’m sure one of his former girlfriends was an interior decorator.”

“Assuming he remembers which one.”

“Another good point. You’re on a roll this morning.”

He sipped his coffee. “You’re feisty. When did that happen?”

“A hundred and forty-seven days ago. There was a report on the news.”

“I missed that.”

“I guess it’s hiding with your memo about being a god.”

He grinned and she smiled in return. Even as she wanted to lean in and continue the banter, she knew it was far better to keep things completely businesslike between them. Her former relationship with Cal had started with fun conversation and had gotten more dangerous by the minute. Although she felt completely immune now, she didn’t want to take any chances. Not when it was surprisingly easy to be around him.

“You’ve been out of the business a while,” she said. “How does it feel to be back?”

“Good. Familiar. I didn’t think I’d missed it, but there’s something about running a restaurant. Everything’s changing, with no hour the same, let alone a day. Time is always the enemy. The next crisis is just around the corner.”

“Sounds like you’ve missed it.”

“Maybe I have.”

“I hope you remember enough to keep this half up and running.”

“Your faith in me is overwhelming.”

Cal watched Penny lean back as if separating herself from him. He could read her mind as clearly as if she’d spoken.

He hadn’t had faith in her.

The statement wasn’t true, but he knew she wouldn’t believe him. His attempts to protect her from Gloria had only widened the chasm in their rapidly unraveling marriage.

Ancient history, he told himself. Better to forget it.

She reached into a battered backpack and pulled out a folder. “Here are some sample menus. I’ve marked the items I want to serve at the big preopening party. The question marks are in place where I’m not sure what will be available that particular day. Inventory changes quickly and my fish people can’t promise the more exotic selections until the day of the party.”

He took the sheets of paper. “The infamous fish people.”

She smiled. “Sometimes they dress in costume.”

“I’d like to see that.”

She laughed.

The sound washed over him in a wave of unexpected heat. He felt it sink into him, warming him, arousing him.

Whoa. Not going there. He didn’t believe in do-overs, not in personal relationships, anyway. He and Penny were simply co-workers, nothing more.

But even as he told himself to back off, sexual energy poured through him, making him aware of the humor in her eyes and the way her skin seemed almost luminous.

He told himself that the former was at his expense and the latter was simply the result of damn good lighting in the restaurant. But even he didn’t believe it.

“Are you even listening?” she asked.

“Yeah. Fish specials depend on the whim of the fish people.”

“No. I was saying that I’ll be building my specials slowly. I won’t want to dump a bunch of new items on the menu at once. I also have a few things in mind for new signature dishes. Once we’re established, I’ll offer them as specials and if they take off, I’ll put them on the menu. I’ve also been working on a seasonal menu. Certain fish is available at certain times of the year. I can build around that. The same with produce.”

“Berries in the summer, squash in the fall,” he said.

She sighed. “I’d like to think I’m more imaginative than that, but yes. That’s the idea.”

He looked over the menu. There were the basics—steamed and grilled fish, soups, salads, sides.

He’d had her garlic smashed potatoes before and his mouth watered at the memory. She put in a secret ingredient that she’d never shared, even with him.

He flipped to the list of specials. “Corn cakes?” he asked. “I thought we were specializing in Northwest cuisine. Isn’t that Southwestern?”

“That depends on how they’re prepared.”

He shrugged, then shook his head. “Fish and chips? Do we really want to do that here? We’re going for an upscale experience, not cheap fast food on the pier.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Do I look annoyed?” she asked. “Because you’re really pissing me off here. Did you or did you not want a special menu?”

“Yes, but—”

“Did you or did you not hire me to make the dining experience special?”

“Yes, but—”

“Perhaps you’d like to give me a chance to do my job before you start complaining.”

“Penny,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “I get final say on the menu. That’s in the contract.”

He could practically hear her teeth grinding.

“Fine. Mark everything you consider questionable. Then be back here in two days. We’ll have a tasting. At that point, you will sample the foods you object to. I will be in the kitchen where you can crawl to me and beg my forgiveness, after which you’ll never, ever question my menu selections again.”

He chuckled. “I won’t be crawling and I will question as I see fit, but the tasting session sounds fine.” He pulled out his Palm Pilot. “What time?”

“Three.”

“Fine. Of course if I’m not impressed, I’ll be calling the shots on the menu,” he told her.

“Only if hell has frozen over.”

“I hear it’s getting cold down there.”

She muttered something he couldn’t hear, which made him hold in a smile.

She’d gotten tough in the years they’d been apart. He liked that about her. He doubted she would have any trouble controlling the kitchen staff. He thought about what Gloria had told him, that Penny had stabbed someone. He wanted to hear the story, but not just yet.

Cal looked over the menu again. “We should price what we’ve agreed on,” he said. “Somehow I think that will be an argument.”

“I have the costs here.”

She pulled out several more sheets, these printed out from a computer. They broke down the approximate size of each serving and the cost to prepare it. Store costs—labor, wait staff and the fixed costs of the building were arrived at by estimating the total number of dinners served per night and dividing that into store costs for the day.

“Your portions are too large,” he said. “We’ll have to charge too much.”

“Better that than they go home hungry and have to stop for a burger on the way.”

He braced himself for the battle to come. “Who needs ten ounces of halibut?”

“Fish is different from meat. A four-ounce portion isn’t normal.”

“We’re talking about a premium product.”

She tapped her pen on the table. “Gee, and I thought this was going to be a premium restaurant. Did I have that wrong?”

Before he could answer, Naomi walked into the dining room with a guy Cal didn’t recognize. Penny’s friend fell back a step, pointed to the newcomer and mouthed, “I want him!”

Cal groaned.

“It’s the wine guy,” Naomi said. “Who’s going to be ordering?”

“I am,” Cal and Penny said at the same time.

CAL WALKED INTO the Downtown Sports Bar a little after nine on Wednesday night. The happy hour crowd had faded with the end of the last game and now there were only the regulars and a few business people who didn’t want to go home. Which meant the crowd was about ninety percent female.

His brother, Reid, stood behind the bar, holding court while a dozen or so large-breasted beauties listened, laughed and openly invited him into their respective beds. Or maybe not so respective. With Reid, one never knew.

He’d always been like this, Cal thought with a grin as he waved at his brother and made his way to a booth in the corner. Back in high school, Reid had had more than his share of interested women. Some of it had been because he was the pitching star on the high school team, and some of it was because he was a Buchanan. The Buchanan boys had never lacked for female companionship.

As he approached the booth he saw his baby sister, Dani, already seated. She had a beer in front of her and an expression of betrayal that warned him she’d heard the news.

“How’s it going, kid?” he asked as he slid in next to her.

“How do you think? I’m still trying to pull the knife out of my back.”

If they’d still been children he would have tugged her close and tickled her until she yelled uncle. Then he would have held her while she cried. That was no longer an option and he didn’t know how to make her feel better.

“Hey, Cal.”

He looked up and saw Lucy, one of the waitresses, walking toward him.

“The usual?” she asked.

Cal nodded.

“Dani ordered nachos,” she added. “Want it for two?”

“Make it three. Reid will be joining us.”

“Sure thing.”

She turned, giving him a view of her rounded tush in tight khaki shorts. Only Reid could get away with making his staff wear shorts and cropped T-shirts in Seattle in winter.

Cal turned to his sister. He leaned close to kiss her cheek, but she pulled away. Her dark brown eyes sharpened with accusation.

“How could you?” she demanded.

“Dammit, Dani, I didn’t have a choice. You know I don’t want to get back in the business. I sure don’t want to work for Gloria. I knew I could either take the job or watch the restaurant go down the toilet. None of us would want that.”

“Ha. Why would you care? You couldn’t wait to get away from it all.”

“I don’t care,” he said gently. “But you do. Reid’s in the business now. Walker may want to be a part of things when he retires from the marines.”

Dani reached for her beer. “All great reasons. You left out kids. Won’t we want this great company to pass on to our kids? Not that any of us has them. I don’t see them in my future anytime soon, and I’m the only one who’s married, but hey, it could happen. Maybe one of you guys could slip up and get a girl pregnant. Then we could have yet another generation in the family business.”

He knew she was bitter and he couldn’t blame her. Ironically, her words hit closer to the truth than she realized. He had gotten a girl pregnant. Seventeen years ago his daughter had been born. Gloria was the only one in his family who knew.

Thinking of his daughter now made him wonder if Lindsey would ever be interested in the family business. Not that she considered herself a Buchanan. She was adopted and aware of the fact but had no curiosity about her birth parents.

“I’m not making a career of The Waterfront,” he said, then thanked Lucy as she delivered his beer. “I’m back for four months and I have no desire ever to run the company.”

“Too bad, because Gloria would hand it over to you in a heartbeat.” Dani tucked her short dark hair behind her ears. “She’s a powerful woman. You’d think she’d respect that I want to be just as powerful, although a lot less bitchy. But does she care?”

Before he could figure out how to respond to that, Reid walked over.

“Hey, boys and girls.”

Dani glared at him. “You already knew, didn’t you?”

“Knew what?” Reid’s expression was innocent as he slid in next to Dani and put his arm around her. “That I’m the best looking of the Buchanan brothers? Not that it’s a tough competition.”

Cal shook his head. “One day your ego is going to come crashing back to earth and crush you like the insignificant bug you are.”

“Unlikely. My bevy of beauties will protect me.”

“Anything falling from the sky will just bounce off their implants,” Dani said. “You need to get him from below.”

Cal grinned. “She has a point.”

“And so do I,” Dani said. She shrugged off Reid’s arm. “You knew about Cal running The Waterfront.”

“Sure. Penny told me when she came by to say she had the job as executive chef.”

Cal winced as Dani slammed her hands down on the table. “Why am I always the last to know?” she asked. “Can’t you guys keep me in the loop on anything?”

“Why would you care who’s the chef?” Reid asked. “It’s not like it’s your restaurant.”

Cal glared at his brother. “Shut up.” He turned to Dani. “I was going to tell you tonight.”

Dani stared at him. “You hired your ex-wife to cook at your restaurant?”

“She’s good, she has a name that’ll bring in customers and she was available.”

“Just perfect,” Dani muttered. “At least it’s late enough that I don’t have to worry about my day getting too much worse.”

Cal didn’t know what to say. He hated that when it came to the family business, Dani always got screwed.

“Penny’s a great chef,” Reid said. “She’ll make the old place a success. Don’t you want that? Aren’t you the one so interested in seeing the company succeed?”

“That’s not the point,” Dani said.

Lucy arrived with a massive plate of nachos. They dug in and for a few minutes there was only small talk about who had heard from Walker and whether or not the Mariners would have a decent season.

Cal glanced at his sister. He could feel the tension in her and knew she wasn’t happy. Maybe it was because he was the oldest and she was the youngest or maybe it was because she was the only girl, but he’d always looked out for her. Nobody messed with Dani without going through him first, and that went for his brothers as well.

But she wasn’t that little girl anymore and he couldn’t keep the whole world at bay.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Fine. The new low-calorie selections are doing great. We’re getting the dieting mom crowd in. The kids can scarf down on burgers and fries and mom can stay on program.”

She didn’t sound very enthused. Not that he could blame her. Dani had a master’s in restaurant management. She’d returned to Seattle, fully intending to work her way up the ranks. But instead of putting her in a junior position at The Waterfront, or Buchanan’s, the family’s steak house, Gloria had sent Dani to Tukwila to run Burger Heaven. She’d started as a hostess, been a fry cook and two years ago had been made manager. But no matter how hard Dani worked or how many times she talked with Gloria, the old woman refused to move her.

“You let her get to you,” Reid said. “If it doesn’t matter, she can’t hurt you.”

“I don’t know how not to care,” Dani said simply.

Cal knew that was true. Dani didn’t have a choice. She lived and breathed the business. Despite everything, she was a Buchanan down to her bones. With Gloria standing between her and success, her choices were to endure and hope to change her grandmother’s mind or walk away.

He wrapped his arm around her neck, pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.

“Life’s a bitch,” he muttered.

“Tell me about it.” She straightened and held out her beer. “Change of subject. To Walker. Stay safe and come home to us.”

They drank to their brother, currently serving a tour of duty with the marines in Afghanistan.

“At least we can all be together the next time he’s on leave,” she said.

Cal nodded. “We’ll plan something special.”

Dani wrinkled her nose. “Oh, please. Because you guys are so into social planning. I’ll be the one in charge of that and we all know it.”

Reid looked at him. “When did she get to be so bossy?”

“A few years ago.”

“I’m still bigger than you,” Reid told her.

Dani grinned. “Yeah, big guy, but you were raised to never hit a girl. Not even your sister. So there’s nothing you can do about it.”

CAL SAT in The Waterfront’s main dining room and waited. Right on time, the door to the kitchen swung open and Penny walked out. She wore checked pants, clogs and a three-quarter-sleeve white coat. A blue scarf held her braided hair off her face.

But instead of a tray carrying various dishes, she held only one plate.

He frowned at the fish and chips she put in front of him. “This isn’t the only item I questioned,” he said. “I want to taste the others, too.”

“Try this first,” she said, making no effort to conceal her certainty. “Taste it and weep. I’m going to step back a little so you’ll have room to come crawling to me.”

Yeah, right. She’d served fish and chips. How good could it be?

He was willing to admit she had the presentation nailed. The cream-colored oval plate contained three pieces of fish, waffle-cut fries and brightly colored coleslaw in a cabbage leaf.

“Got any malt vinegar?” he asked.

“Not a chance.”

“The diners may want it.”

“Not after they taste the fish. I’ll allow them to use it on the waffle fries, if they like.”

“How generous. Will you be posting a sign explaining that?”

She grinned. “I thought I’d just put it on the menu. You know, an asterisk by the menu item, then a little note at the bottom explaining the rules.”

Her confidence grated on him. He cut off a piece of the fish and tasted it.

Crunchy batter, but he’d expected that. Still, it was surprisingly crisp without being too hard. As he chewed, the flavors exploded on his tongue. The fish was nice and mild, yet fresh. There was also a hint of spice…No, wait. It was more sweet than spicy.

He took a second bite to try and figure out what she’d put into the batter. Something Thai? No, but chilies of some kind. And what was that tang?

He swore silently. This was better than good—it was addictive. He had to consciously hold back so he didn’t scarf down the entire plate of fish. Instead he deliberately turned to the fries.

The waffle cut made them look more elegant than other fries and he could see they’d been seasoned. He bit into one. Crispy on the outside, but soft and potato-y on the inside. And damn if the spices here didn’t add something extraordinary.

He moved on to the coleslaw and that blew him away. He should have known. Penny loved to experiment until she found exactly the right blend of seasonings. No doubt she’d been working on these recipes for months.

He looked at her. She stood just off to the side, her arms folded, her expression patient.

“You win,” he said with a sigh. “It’s great. I don’t know what you’re putting in the fish batter—”

“I’m not telling,” she said with a self-satisfied smile. “Chef’s secret.”

“Figures. Put this on the menu, along with everything else I questioned.”

Her smile turned smug. “I already did. Naomi called the order in to the printer this morning.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“WILL SOMEONE GET the goddamn salmon off the back burner,” Burt growled, his low voice thick with fury.

“It’s not my salmon, you sonofabitch,” Juan told him, then plunged his knife into a leek and neatly sliced it in two.

Penny ignored the usual high level of profanity, the male posturing and the jostling as her new kitchen staff learned to work together. Over time they would perfect a delicate dance that provided meals at rapid speed, while maintaining taste and quality, but for the first few nights there would be plenty of mishaps.

Nothing huge, Penny thought, willing the fates to smile on her. A cocktail party for five hundred was just the warm-up. Tomorrow they would be serving dinner for real.

Edouard, her sous-chef, whipped up more sauce for the corn cakes. “The salmon is mine,” he said, not bothering to look up as he drizzled in extra-virgin olive oil. “You girls leave it alone.”

A restaurant kitchen was mostly a man’s world. Penny had learned to deal with it in culinary school. At first she’d been shocked by the insults, pet names that would make a hardened criminal blush and the need for even more creative swearing. In time she’d come to see it as little more than the specialized language of the kitchen. She didn’t usually participate, but if necessary, she could nail every one of her staff with enough profanity to shock them into silence. Still, she preferred to pick her battles.

Someone dropped a tray of honey-grilled shrimp on the counter. Naomi immediately went to work dressing the plates, first squirting on a dollop of sauce, then adding a sprig of herb and a dusting of green onion. There were demi-cups of lobster bisque, delicately balanced waffle fries with tiny bits of batter-fried fish on top, seared salmon on corn cakes and an assortment of desserts.

Penny couldn’t hear much over the hiss of the steamer, the roar of the grill and the chatter of the staff, but a glance at the clock told her the cocktail party had been underway at least thirty minutes.

“I have to go,” she muttered, unbuttoning her coat as she headed to her office.

“Yes,” Edouard called after her. “If you do not go now, we won’t get any of the credit for the food. Go. Mingle. Come back and tell us we are brilliant.”

“Sure thing,” Penny said, then slipped into her office. She closed the door behind her and shrugged out of her coat.

Underneath she wore a low-cut silk sweater and a black jacket that matched her slacks. She’d traded in clogs for high-heeled boots. Her long hair hung loose, which made her a complete disaster for the kitchen, but her job tonight wasn’t about cooking—it was about making nice with Cal’s definition of Seattle’s beautiful people.

She checked her makeup, then stepped back as her door opened. Naomi stuck her head in.

“There are two waiters I’m considering,” her friend said. “I need your help in picking. I’ll point them out to you and you can let me know what you think.”

“Okay.”

Naomi smiled. “You look nervous. Don’t be. It’s going great.”

“You’ve been in the kitchen. You can’t know that any more than I do.”

“I have a feeling.” She paused. “Wasn’t that a song from the movie Flashdance? ” She hummed for second. “Or is it ‘What a Feeling’? I’m dating myself, aren’t I? Would it help if I said I was twelve when I saw the movie?”

“Were you?”

“I honestly can’t remember.”

Naomi had turned forty last December and had celebrated with a long weekend in Mexico and a string of hunky cabana boys. Penny had always admired her friend’s ability to make her own fun.

“Nice sweater,” Naomi said, nodding at the emerald green fabric.

“I figure I’ll show off cleavage while I’ve got it.”

“Good plan. You hardly have any tummy at all, but the jacket hides the little that is there. Come on. You can’t stall here forever.”

Penny nodded and let Naomi lead her out into the main restaurant. As they walked out of the kitchen, a young blond waiter walked by. Naomi grabbed his arm.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

He grinned at her. “Ted.”

“Good.” She turned to Penny. “That’s candidate number one.”

Penny was still laughing when she turned to face the crowd.

Her humor faded as she took in the sheer number of people milling in the main dining room. They’d sent out over five hundred invitations and from the looks of things, everyone had decided to show up.

Soft music was barely audible over the general din of conversation. People stood in groups, chatting and laughing, while waiters in white coats circulated with trays of food.

The bar was doing a brisk business, hardly a surprise when the liquor was free. Penny had a brief urge for something to steady her nerves, then braced herself and tried to pick a direction in which to wander.

Just then the crowd shifted and parted, allowing her to see into the center of the room. Cal stood there, tall and studly in a dark suit. Her body reacted, getting all hot and weak and needy.

She used her kitchen experience to call herself several bad names and when that didn’t decrease her very inappropriate desire, she reminded herself that she and Cal had already tried the relationship thing and it hadn’t worked. He’d let her go without a whimper, leaving her to wonder if he’d ever loved her at all.

“So it’s just you and me, kid,” she whispered as she lightly touched her stomach. Then she squared her shoulders and plunged into the crowd.

“Nice to see you. Thanks for coming.”

Penny smiled, greeted and generally made nice with the prospective clientele. She made her way toward Cal, who came and collected her before she reached him.

“It’s going great,” he said. “Big crowd showed.”

“Sure they did,” she murmured into his ear. “The food is free. Let’s see how many of them are willing to pay on another night.”

He chuckled, then introduced her to several government officials.

“We used to come here all the time,” a petite, pretty lawyer said. “Lately, though…” Her voice trailed off.

Penny waved away the comment. “You can say it was really bad. I wasn’t the one cooking.”

The woman laughed. “I guess not. I’ve sampled most of the food. It’s terrific.”

“Thank you. Obviously we want to offer traditional favorites while helping people branch out.”

Cal put his hand on the small of her back, which caused her nerve endings to make a few Flashdance moves of their own.

“Have you tried Penny’s fish and chips? They’re incredible. I made the mistake of saying they weren’t important enough for our menu. She won me over with one bite.”

Penny glanced at him. “I didn’t think you’d admit that.”

“I was wrong.”

The lady lawyer grinned. “Care to embroider that on a pillow? Women everywhere would love to see it.”

“No, thanks.”

Cal excused them and they moved to another group of local business people. He introduced her and then let her explain about her philosophy as far as using local ingredients whenever possible.

“We live in a wonderful part of the country,” she said. “Why not take advantage of that?”

A reporter from the Seattle Times moved closer. “Are you going to be featuring Washington wines?”

“Of course. And those from Oregon and British Columbia. Obviously, we’ll have selections from California, France and other places, but our focus is regional.”

The next two hours were a blur of introductions and sound bites to sell the restaurant. Cal stayed close except when she ducked into the kitchen to check on things. When she returned to the dining room, it was to find Naomi leading Gloria Buchanan toward her.

They were an odd couple. Gloria was small, with white hair and piercing blue eyes. Her clothes cost more than the national debt of several small island nations. Naomi towered over her, six feet of Amazon beauty. Her wavy dark hair fell down her back, and her green eyes seemed to laugh at the world. But it was the heart tattoo on her bare shoulder and the way her breasts moved in the black halter top that really caught one’s attention.

“Lookee who I found,” Naomi said, releasing Gloria’s arm and grinning. “Don’t you know her?”

Gloria adjusted the sleeve of her winter-white wool suit jacket and sniffed. “Who is this person?” she demanded.

“Hello, Gloria,” Penny said, forcing a smile. Gloria had made it very clear she would never forgive Penny for leaving her precious grandson. After all, in Gloria’s mind, marriage to a Buchanan was a pinnacle few could hope to achieve. “Nice to see you. This is my friend Naomi.”

Gloria glanced at the other woman, then turned back to Penny. “If you say so.”

“Oh, Penny and I go way back,” Naomi said cheerfully. “We met while she was still at the culinary institute. I was her next-door neighbor and she came over to complain that I was making too much noise.”

Penny winced, knowing what was to come.

Naomi lowered her voice. “It was the sex. I have this thing for younger men and that can get kinda noisy. I felt really bad. But Penny was great about it and we became friends.”

Gloria’s expression didn’t change, but her mouth tightened. It was what gave her away—a trait she shared with her grandson.

Cal joined them. Gloria looked at him. “Do you know this woman?” she demanded, pointing at Naomi.

Cal groaned. “Oh, yeah.”

Naomi sighed. “Tell her about the time I saw you naked,” she said, then strolled off.

Cal looked from Naomi to his grandmother, then excused himself. Under the circumstances, Penny couldn’t exactly blame him. Unfortunately, his action left her alone with Gloria.

“So, Callister hired you,” the older woman said, her voice laced with displeasure.

“That he did. I have a three-year contract.”

“I see.”

“Have you tasted the food?”

Gloria glanced at a passing tray. “I have a delicate stomach.”

The insult was so blatant, it was almost funny. Almost. Penny wasn’t surprised to hear she wasn’t Gloria’s first choice. For some reason, the old bat had never liked her and it was hard to feel affection for someone so determined to keep her on the outside.

“Too bad,” Penny said. “We’re getting rave reviews.”

“The food is free, dear. What did you expect?”

Sort of what Penny had thought. Not that she was going to admit it.

“Well, this has been great,” she said. “Nice to see you again, but I have to—”

Gloria grabbed her arm. “You won’t get him back, you know.”

“What?”

“Callister. He’s over you. I’m not sure what he ever saw in you.”

“Yes, I know. You made that very clear.” Penny pulled her arm free and wished her mother had been just a little less insistent on one being polite to one’s elders.

Cal might have let her go without a whimper, but Gloria had practically had a party to celebrate the divorce. At least that’s what Reid had told her.

“You were never right for him,” Gloria said. “You never cared enough. What kind of woman walks out on her marriage?”

The unfairness of the accusation caused Penny to abruptly excuse herself. As she walked away, she found herself wanting to turn around and announce that she had cared. She’d loved Cal with her whole heart. She would have done anything for him—anything but not have a child. Having a family of her own was the one thing she wouldn’t compromise on.

“Stupid old woman,” she muttered, then grabbed a cup of bisque from a passing waiter and drank it down.

“I saw the smoke so I came running.”

Penny turned and saw Reid behind her. She leaned against him. “Your grandmother is horrible. I’d forgotten how bad.”

“No one ever really forgets about her. You just repressed the memory. We all do. It’s how we survive.”

He wrapped both arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “The party is great. People are raving about the food. I think you’re a hit.”

“I hope so.”

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice low.

“I have a horrible craving for orange sherbet. I’m surrounded by all this amazing food and that’s all I can think about.”

“Pretty sick.”

“That’s what I’m thinking.”

Cal walked up, dragging Naomi behind him.

“Do something,” he told Penny. “She’s asking my opinion about waiters.”

“There are so many to choose from,” Naomi said, suddenly focused on Reid. “Well, hello. You didn’t head off to spring training.”

“Not this year.”

“That’s too bad. I always enjoy watching you work. You move really well.”

Penny shivered. “Stop it. You guys are my friends. I can’t deal with this.”

Reid flashed her a grin. “You’re going to have to get over it.” He held out his hand to Naomi. “Shall we?”

“We shall.”

They strolled off together.

Penny watched them go. “I don’t know which one to worry about. I suppose it’s been inevitable. They’ve known each other for years. But Reid was always coming or going and Naomi…” She paused. “I’m not sure why she waited this long. At least she’ll help keep his mind off the season starting.”

“Nothing against your friend, but no woman could do that.”

“Then she’ll be a distraction.”

Cal shrugged. “Probably.”

“Naomi can handle him. She can handle anyone.”

“She’s had the practice.”

Penny was about to take offense for her friend when she realized Cal wasn’t talking to her. Oh, he’d faced her and was therefore pointing in the right direction, but his attention was far more on her chest than her face.

She’d never had the kind of body that commanded men’s attention and it felt good to have it now. Twisted, but good.

“Shall we?” she asked, pointing to the crowd.

“Why not?”

They dove back in.

CAL WOKE UP in a great mood. The party the previous night had gone well and he was expecting a lot of positive press from the event. Even more important, people would talk about Penny’s food and that would bring in customers as much as any article. If the opening went as smoothly as the party, then he would have achieved the success he wanted in four months and he could bow out and return to The Daily Grind.

He showered, shaved and was about to pick out his clothes for the day when his phone rang. He glanced at the clock. Who the hell would be calling at ten past seven in the morning?

He instantly thought of Walker. Had something happened to his brother? He reached for the phone.

“Dammit, Cal, this is your fault,” Penny yelled before he had a chance to say hello. “Get down here right now. To the restaurant,” she added. “I mean it. You have twenty minutes.” Then she hung up.

A push, but he made it with forty-five seconds to spare. Whatever the crisis was, he planned to have a little talk with her about manager-chef relationships. She might be in charge of the kitchen but that didn’t make her boss of the world.

He pulled into the parking lot and circled around back. As he’d suspected, the morning deliveries were stacked outside the rear of the building. Penny stood there with a very tousled Naomi at her side.

He didn’t want to think about what Naomi had done with her night. Not when his brother was involved. So he parked and climbed out of his car. Penny saw him and raced toward him.

“Smell this,” she said, thrusting a large piece of fish in his face. “Smell it.”

He inhaled, then wished he hadn’t. Good fish shouldn’t have a smell at all. Old fish smelled fishy. This fish smelled as if it had died three weeks ago.

“It’s all crap,” she said, her eyes bright with temper, her cheeks blazing as red as her hair. “You could tie the celery in knots and it wouldn’t break. The shallots are practically a liquid. Crap. Did I tell you? Did I say there was a reason this restaurant had closed? Did you listen?”

She sucked in a breath. “Do you know how many reservations we have for tonight? The house is full. Full. Starting at six and going through until ten, we have every seat taken. We’re talking about dinner for just over three hundred. You want to know how much food I have? None. None! I have a damn box of cornstarch and three leeks and I have to provide dinner for three hundred.”

“Penny—”

She ignored him. “I said they could screw up one time. Well, they have. I’ll get my own people in here, which is great, but I still have dinner for three hundred tonight. I want someone’s head on a platter. I want it now and I want it raw. I’ll cook it myself.”

With that she turned on her heel and stalked into the restaurant.

He was equally torn between admiring her spirit and dealing with the disaster at hand.

Naomi stared at him. “Don’t go there, big guy. You already screwed that one up once.”

Cal ignored that. “Tell the guy to pack up and send it all back.” He would call later and cancel the contract, but right now there was a bigger problem. Dinner for three hundred.

He went into the restaurant and found Penny in the cold storage, taking inventory.

“I have shrimp,” she said, a note of hysteria in her voice. “Great. If we cut them in half, then everyone gets a serving. Fabulous. Come to The Waterfront and enjoy half a shrimp.” She turned and saw him. “Get out of my way.”

“I want to help.”

“You will. Tell me you drive something bigger than that expensive toy.”

“I have a full-sized truck.”

“Good. Go get it. Dress dirty. We’re going to Pike Place Market. But first I’m calling my fish people and finding out what they can do for me.” She winced. “They’re going to charge a lot for a last minute order.”

“We’ll pay.” He moved close and grabbed her shoulders. “I’m sorry the delivery was crap, but we’ll handle this. We can do an opening night chef’s menu and pretend it was our plan all along.”

“I know, but you have the easy part. You just have to print it out on the computer and slip it into the menus. I have to figure it all out and then make sure we have enough food, then cook it.”

“You can do it.”

“There’s an assumption.”

He saw the doubt in her eyes.

He felt her pain and annoyance and couldn’t think of a damn thing to make her feel better. She deserved more. Worse, he was partially to blame. He’d insisted on keeping the old vendors.

“I…”

“Yes? Any solution would be welcome.”

When he was silent, she sighed. “Yeah, I don’t have a miracle up my sleeve, either. Okay, meet us at the market in forty-five minutes,” she said. “We’ll check out what’s available and I’ll come up with a menu. Then we’ll put it all together and pray that it works.”

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