Into the Fire (14 page)

Chapter Fifteen

“All right, boys and girls, this is it. Opening night. You want to know who will be sitting out in the dining room?” A tense grin creased Jack’s face. “Everyone.”

Lila watched him pace down the length of the line and wondered how he was going to keep himself from jumping back there and cooking everything himself. She could feel the energy pouring off of him. His cooks could feel it, too. They were raring to go, impatient for the first ticket to hit the kitchen as they listened to Jack’s pep talk. “Tonight you will be feeding the people who pay attention to food in New York. They are expecting mistakes. Don’t make any.”

Over the past week they had shown incredible focus. They had mastered every tweak, every nuance. Each dish was a work of art. Seasonal produce put bright colors on the plate, and rich sauces added shades of the coming fall. Edible garnishes added height and whimsy. She had poured her heart and soul into creating food Jack would love.

She looked across the kitchen to where he now stood over the ticket printer, all but frothing at the mouth, daring it to throw something at the kitchen they couldn’t handle. She wanted to put her arms around him.

She felt her eyes sting and her heart swell. One more week left at Inferno. God she hoped the New York Times reviewer was in the house tonight to put Jack out of his misery. She had tried every carnal trick in the book this week to get him to have a calm discussion with his father. He had responded with equal eroticism and superior stubbornness. Then, she had hoped Mr. Calabrese would drop by Inferno, so she could talk to him again. Jack needed to know about his heart condition. She had been tempted several times to tell him, but that would only increase the tension between Jack and his father. Unfortunately, Mr. Calabrese hadn’t even appeared once.

Surely he’d come for Jack’s opening night. If he didn’t, she was going to hunt him down and lock him in the office with Jack until they found a way to actually communicate. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Jack appeared in front of her, and she smiled at him. “Ready, champ?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be, thanks to you. Listen, there’s something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you. This week has been really great, and I appreciate your hard work and support. You breathed life into the Inferno menu, and I’d like you to help me with the next menu, too.”

Her heart skipped a beat, stuttered back to life, and then sank. “Are you offering me a job, Jack?” she asked evenly.

“Well, yes, sort of. I know you’ll be busy running Personal Chef, but I’d like to continue working together.”

“Working together? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” She watched his eyes darken. Hard as it was to turn down more time with Jack, she wanted more from him. “A job offer? Is that the best you can do?”

He flinched. “Forget it. Never mind.”

She grabbed his arm when he turned to go, wondering why her gibe had provoked such an extreme reaction. When he tried to pull away, she tightened her grip. “I’ll consider your offer.” She only had a week left to get Jack and his Dad to shape up, so she wasn’t going to waste this opportunity. “In fact, if you have a nice long chat with your father this week, I promise to accept it.”

…

Jack stared down at Lila, still smarting from his father’s words coming out of her mouth.
Is that the best you can do?
She just wouldn’t give up. All week he’d waited for an opportunity to reopen negotiations with her, but every time he edged their conversation around to work, she started talking about his father. She’d just done it again.

His phone rang in his pocket, giving him an excuse to ignore her. He picked up when he saw the name on the display, assuming his mother wanted to wish him luck. “Hey, Mom.”

“Jack, your father—” The clatter of pans made it difficult to hear, so he walked into the dish room. “What did you say?”

“Your father had a heart attack. He’s at Presbyterian. Unconscious. He never should have left the Cleveland Clinic last week. Stubborn fool.” She sounded furious and terrified.

Cleveland Clinic? Not Fiji? Goddamn it.
Of course his father wouldn’t trust him with the truth. Jack clenched his teeth and looked around the kitchen, feeling helpless. The first order would come through any minute. Unbelievable. His father had figured out a way to ruin this for him too. Even as he had the thought, guilt besieged him. “I’m on my way,” he told his mother.

He dropped the phone in his pocket and turned to find Lila beside him. “My father had a heart attack. He’s in the hospital. I have to go.”

She put her hand on his arm. “I’ll go with you.”

“Jack!” The maitre’d called from the dining room. “I need the specials menu. The doors are about to open.”

Jack closed his eyes, feeling sick. What if his father died without knowing if Inferno was a success or not? His thoughts swam endless circles in his head, making him dizzy. How could he be so damn petty as to think about his damn restaurant when his father might be dying?

“I’ve got the menus,” Lila said. “You go. Call us when you know anything.”

“We’ll make you proud, Chef.” Daniel urged him toward the back door.

Jack took one last look at the line. Knowing his father, Jack would appear at his bedside and his dad would ridicule him for leaving his restaurant on opening night. In fact, he hoped that would happen. He imagined his father threatening to get out of bed and go cook the damn food himself, and Jack regretted dodging his calls all week. His skin prickled, then went cold. It was the same sensation he got when his brain acknowledged a bad burn the second before his synapses fired in pain. How bad was it going to hurt? It was his own damn fault. He should have listened to Lila.

He turned to find her beside him. “C’mon, Jack. I’ll get you a taxi.” She took his hand and led him up the alley. As they reached the curb, a yellow cab pulled up. Several people got out. “Chef Calabrese!” a man held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Manfred Harris, New York Times. Are you standing outside to welcome your biggest fans?” The man’s eyes twinkled with good humor, but hopelessness struck Jack dumb. The food critic of the New York Times was about to watch him drive away from his restaurant on opening night. Professional suicide.

Lila slid her arm around his waist and squeezed. “Our poor chef is having an attack of nerves and needed some air. You know how it is with temperamental chefs.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure whether to give him a pat on the back, a slap on the butt, or a shot of tequila.”

The critic laughed. “All of the above.” Two more taxis pulled up to the curb and another half-dozen people piled out of the cars. “Here’s the rest of my party. We can’t wait to see your menu, Chef.”

Jack’s smile felt like concrete. “I hope you love it as much as I do.”

He felt sick as he watched them file through the front door of Inferno. When the last customer disappeared through the door, Lila gave him a shove. “Go, Jack. We’ve got this.”

He climbed into the car. “Presbyterian Hospital,” he mumbled.

Tires squealed. As Jack buckled his seat belt, he felt something tickle his cheek. He brushed his face, and his hand came away wet. He stared at his fingertips, stunned. He hadn’t cried since his mother left. What did it mean that the mere thought of losing his father, a man who’d rarely had an encouraging word for him in his entire life, reduced him to tears? Would he never grow up?

…

Lila watched the taxi speed away.

She’d watched Jack’s face when he spoke to the critic, and his miserable expression had frozen her heart. It was the exact same expression he got when he talked about his father, but he’d been talking about the menu.

Hell no.
She gasped with sudden understanding and flew back down the alley. If Inferno opened to bad reviews, Jack would be devastated. But running the new menu would be even worse. He would never feel like a success. Just like he didn’t feel he had deserved to win the culinary competition because he’d used her ideas, he wouldn’t feel he deserved any accolades for Inferno if they served her menu. His original menu was flawless. There had been absolutely no reason to alter it except to make him feel inadequate, and now her goal had changed. She wanted him to know the truth—his food was amazing. She held his future in her hands tonight, and she would do this for him—even though it might destroy his trust in her. Her heart hammered in her chest as she brushed away a tear.

She was going to end up hurting him, after all.

She burst in to the dish room and strode to the front of the line. “All right, people. The show must go on. Are you ready to do this?”

The crew nodded, but she had never seen a more miserable-looking group. Luis’ dark eyes were snapping with frustrated grief and the usually easy-going Perry was pacing in the sauté station. Roz’s eyes were red-rimmed and watery, and she looked one sad thought away from a crying jag.

Lila crossed her arms and leaned against the salad station. “Well, I’m not.”

As one, their gazes snapped to her face—wide with disbelief, then suspicion.

Suspicion was good—that meant they knew more about what was going on here than they were supposed to. Suspicion meant they wanted to protect Jack. So did she. She just had to convince them of that.

Lila took a deep breath. “Oh, we’ll open the doors, all right, but we aren’t going to prepare any of the food you’ve been training to cook for the last week.” She looked at each of them in turn, watching shutters slam in their eyes, concealing their thoughts. “Exactly.” She answered their unspoken condemnation. “I agree one hundred percent. The first time I saw Jack’s original menu for Inferno, I wanted to weep at its perfection. Simple, stripped-down food, thoughtfully paired in winning combinations with classic sauces. Nothing over-the-top. Nothing crazy. Nothing that would ever disappoint. Its brilliance lies in the way the food is cooked. Perfectly. Consistently.” She smoothed a few escaping strands of hair back into her bun. “It broke my heart to ruin Jack’s food.”

She heard a noise behind her and saw that Emily had joined them. “So why did you do it?”

“We don’t have time for all that, but you all know Jack, right?”

Five heads nodded.

“Then you know he probably did something to deserve it.”

One stifled chuckle.

“My thoughts are with Jack and Mr. Calabrese right now, but we’ve got a job to do.” They were with her. She could see it in their eyes. “I want to cook the original menu. Jack’s menu.”

For the longest ten seconds of her life, all she heard was silence. Then a cheer broke out.

“No offense. Your food is good, too,” Daniel said.

She snorted. “Damn straight it is. But it isn’t Jack’s food. Inferno is
his
baby. Time to give it life. Work your magic, guys.”

“We’re all over it,” Perry called, already heading for his end of the line.

Roz nodded from the middle. “We’ll make you proud.”

Luis said nothing, but he was moving through the
garde manger
like a tornado.

“I know you will. Best crew in New York.” Lila stepped back and watched them fly into action. As she listened to Daniel rattle off instructions, she wondered if her subconscious had planned this all along. Yes, she had added to Jack’s food, but she hadn’t taken anything away. She hadn’t changed the nature of a single dish. It wasn’t going to be a snap to change it all back in the span of a few minutes, but it wasn’t going to be impossible, either.

Emily touched her arm. “I’ll grab the original menus and talk to the wait staff.”

“Thank you.” She turned back to Daniel. “Can they do it?” It had been two weeks since the cooks had done it Jack’s way.

His grin was reassuring. “Are you kidding? Jack drilled them so many times before you got here, they can cook his dishes in their sleep. We’ll keep the new soups for now, but the rest will be a piece of cake.”

She bit her lip, besieged by doubt. “What about the wait staff? If they can’t communicate the dishes to the guests, we’re screwed.”

“Same deal. All of the servers came over from other Calabrese restaurants. They are absolute pros. If they can’t memorize a menu in ten minutes, I’ll fire them,” he said cheerfully. “However, let’s put an incentive in place, just to make sure. Hey!” He called to the nearest server. “Spread the word. A hundred bucks to the server who makes the fewest mistakes tonight.”

Lila grinned. “You are a genius.”

“Part of the job description.”

“You need anything from me?” she asked.

He glanced at the chaotic, barely-controlled frenetic fury of the Inferno hot line and shook his head. “I think you’ve done enough.”

Lila laughed.

Daniel’s expression became serious. “You did the right thing.” He took a breath. “But Jack is going to kill you.”

“I know. I just hope he forgives me when the reviews start rolling in.” She shooed him away. Daniel needed to be in the eye of the storm directing the action, not standing talking to her. “Go on, get in there. Make it happen.”

As he zipped out of sight, a terrifying possibility occurred to her. Her knees buckled, forcing her to brace a hand on the counter for support. What if the reviews were bad? Changing her competition menu at the last minute had resulted in disaster. What if she was making a huge mistake again?

Her gaze darted around the noisy kitchen, settling on the cooks hustling behind the line who were clearly thrilled to bring Jack’s vision to life, and joy rose within her. Her conviction returned, and she knew it stemmed from both her faith in Jack’s brilliance and her love for him. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, signaling a text. Jack. She hit view.
Still waiting. Everything under control?

Jack would never see this as a gift of love—he would see it as betrayal. Heart pounding, she texted back.
Absolutely.

Chapter Sixteen

“He asked for you.” His mother was sitting by his dad’s bedside, holding his hand. The image struck a chord in his memory. For the first eight years of his life, they had often held hands, but he hadn’t even seen them in the same room together for years.

The nurse had told him only one visitor was permitted, so he had meekly entered the visitor lounge then doubled back to find his father’s room when she wasn’t looking. The old man looked pale. His silver hair was swept back from his forehead. There was an IV in his hand and electrodes taped to his chest. He looked frail…until he opened his eyes.

Even in his weakened condition, his dad’s hazel gaze cut through him. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I knew you were going to say that.” It was ironic that he had felt an irresistible compulsion to rush to the side of a man who didn’t want him here.

“But I’m glad you are.” His father’s voice trailed off, leaving Jack staring at him in disbelief. His heart felt lodged in his throat, too tight to allow the passage of anything, even words. His eyes began to sting, but now that he knew what crying felt like, he staved off the tears.

“You’ll need to watch the restaurants.”

“Of course.” Disappointment turned his grief to irritation. His father was glad he was here so he could give last minute instructions, probably hoping there was something he could say to keep Jack from mucking up the business while he was under the knife. However, even if he was cruel enough to antagonize his ill father, he knew nothing he said would make any difference. Jack could do a stellar job running all five restaurants, and his father would never admit it. Nobody could do anything better than the great Andrew Calabrese.

His father’s eyes slowly opened. “Jackson…I was wrong.” A machine began to beep faster in the background.

His mother held up a hand. “Andrew, I’m all for mending fences, but you should probably wait until they clean out your arteries.”

His father shut his eyes again. The machine slowed down, and Jack breathed a little more easily. “I wasn’t in Fiji. I was in Cleveland with your mother. At the heart clinic. I’ve been trying to control the progress of the disease with drugs, diet, and exercise, but it’s time to take more drastic measures. But you need to know that’s why I haven’t eaten more than a bite of anything at your restaurant. Lila told me I hurt your feelings. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” was all Jack could manage.
His father had told Lila about his heart problems?

“There’s something else—”

“Drew,” his mother broke in. “You are picking just about the worst time possible to have this discussion. Jack knows—” A sound at the door made her pause.

A stacked blond nurse stood with a chart in her hand. She cast a practiced glance over the bank of machines next to his father’s bed then glared at Jack. “Sir, I told you only one visitor is permitted.”

Jack looked down at his mother, holding his father’s hand. “I’ll be in the lounge.”

His mother stood up and sighed. “No, you stay. He’s not going to listen to me anyway. He never has.”

His father opened his eyes and looked at the nurse. His smile was a pale imitation of his usual devilish grin, but it was still effective. “I just need one minute with both of them. Then I promise to behave.”

Jack watched the nurse soften.

“One minute,” she warned. “I’ve got my eyes on you.”

Jack met his mother’s gaze and shared her amused exasperation. Only his father could accomplish the improbable with a smile, especially when there was an attractive blonde involved. He supposed his mother fit the bill as well, although her usual cool chic was a bit rumpled. Strands of blond hair were falling out of the knot at her neck, and her makeup had run, leaving black smudges around her eyes.

Jack relaxed, assuming the nurse wouldn’t have been willing to bend the rules if his father’s life were in danger. His mother gave him a gentle shove into the chair and then crossed her arms, looking first at him, then his father. “You two drive me nuts.”

Both her ex-husband and her son stared up at her.

“What did I do?” Jack asked.

“You grew up just like him, and now I’m stuck with two stubborn, arrogant fools. Make that three. Your brother is on my list, too.”

Jack was surprised to hear a dry chuckle from his father. “That’s not very nice, Elaine.”

“I’m not feeling nice. You were a pain in the ass in Cleveland. You’ve delayed giving our sons information that pertains to their health. And you just had a heart attack, which scared the hell out of me. Now that the doctor has told you it wasn’t as serious as he thought, you want to postpone surgery. I’m done being nice.”

His father gave her the same smile he gave the nurse. “I’m always a pain in the ass, as you’ve said so many times over the last forty years. I didn’t think the heart condition was anything to worry about—”

“Bullshit, you didn’t want to admit you were mortal.”

His father ignored her. “And Jack has a restaurant to open. He doesn’t need the added responsibility of the other five.”

“Or maybe you don’t trust him to take care of your restaurants. That’s what he believes, I guarantee it.”

Jack looked at her in astonishment, wondering how she knew.

His father scowled, and a machine beeped. “That’s ridiculous! He accomplished more in a week than I’ve been able to get done in six months. All the shit that hit the fan while I was gone was due to negligence on my part, and he fixed everything. Every restaurant is running like a top now. I’m goddamn proud of him.”

His mother’s smile was both sweet and vicious. “I assume you told Jack that?”

“No.” His father spoke through gritted teeth. “But I was going to.”

Pain shot through Jack’s jaw. He automatically thought of Lila but that made it worse because she knew more about his father than he did.
The salad.
Now he knew why she had tried so hard to force them to talk. His father had trusted her with information about his health, but he hadn’t told his own son. He stood and pushed past his mother. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Clearly, his father was out of the woods if they had given him the option of postponing surgery. His father had some color in his cheeks, and no one was rushing into the room in response to the beeping machine. The doors at Inferno had opened half an hour ago. There should be something on the web by now. Jack opened the browser on his phone and Googled Inferno. He clicked the first link.

Jack stared at the picture of the roasted chicken entree. Where was the corn? The husks? He clicked another link and saw the beef medallions…with no chimichurri. The air left his lungs in a painful rush. He gasped. Black lines waved around the edges of his vision. He sank to the floor, resting his head on his knees.

Lila had screwed him. She’d run the old menu. How had she managed to get everything prepped? Why had his staff allowed this to happen? She must be laughing her ass off right now. He flinched as a link from the New York Times popped up with a slideshow. The reviewer must be posting live from the dining room. Jack felt faint. The words blurred on the tiny screen.

“Jack?” his head snapped up at his mother’s voice. “Your father wants to talk to you.”

He got to his feet. Previously, only his father could hurt him this badly, this deeply, but Lila’s betrayal had devastated him on a level he didn’t even know he had. Too late, he realized what that must mean. She had probably planned this from the minute she signed the contract, and he had played into her hands beautifully, desperately.

He stepped into the room and looked at his father lounging on the bed like he was a king on vacation, sending an emissary to take care of his kingdom. His mother returned to the side of his bed and clutched his father’s hand. Her eyes were wet.

His father took an audible breath. “I’m not sure I have the strength for this, but I’m afraid if I don’t do it now, then we’ll get even farther off course. It’s all my fault. Every bit of it. I tried to force your brother to be like me. I wanted him to take over the restaurants and run Calabrese Incorporated. He wanted nothing to do with it.”

For once, Jack could see nothing but honesty in his father’s gaze, man-to-man leveling, and a pleading look that drove all thoughts of Inferno from his head.

“I lost him, Jack. Then I lost your mother because of what I did to Ned. I didn’t want to lose you, too. I promised myself I’d keep you far away from the kitchens. I never wanted you to feel pressured.”

But Jack had wanted to be with his father. More than that, he had wanted to be there for his father when Ned and his mother left. Instead, he’d been shunted aside, second best, not good enough, never good enough, left behind with the babysitter, an employee paid by the hour to care for him. And now Lila had burned him just when he was beginning to trust her. Since it was all going up in flames, he poured gasoline on the fire and told his father the truth.

“I idolized you. I wanted to be anywhere you were, and that was the kitchen. But you didn’t want me around.”

His father blinked hard. “I was afraid if I pressured you, you’d change your mind. I was thrilled you wanted to learn to cook.”

“You never liked a single thing I made for you,” Jack accused.

“Wrong. I thought every dish was fabulous, I just didn’t want to give you a fat head. Arrogance is a huge handicap in the kitchen, and I didn’t want you growing up rich and pampered. I wanted you to stay hungry.”

He’d been hungry, all right. Hungry for a kind word from his father. Hungry for approval. His father’s confession might have meant something a few years ago, but now it was too late. “Dad, don’t get me wrong. I appreciate what you are saying, and I wish I could tell you what you want to hear. But I can’t. I can’t make the switch that fast. I have spent my whole life trying to measure up to your expectations. Honestly, it is devastating to learn that I had your approval all along, and you were just fucking with my head. How does that make it better?” Jack chuckled, and his mother sobbed. He couldn’t blame her. It was a terrible sound. “Your heart might have been in the right place. You didn’t want me to be an arrogant prick like you, but I’ve become something worse—a man who feels like he can’t ever measure up. Did Lila tell you what I did to her?”

His father shook his head slowly.

“I stole her ideas to win the culinary competition. She made up a dish off the top of her head, and I put it on a plate because I didn’t think my ideas were good enough to win. When push comes to shove, I never think I’m good enough—that’s why I hired Lila. I didn’t want New York laughing at my menu.” His stomach churned.

“Your menu was amazing. I couldn’t figure out why you wanted to change a thing.”

Jack shrugged. “Well, as it turned out nothing changed. The minute I left Inferno to come here, Lila switched back to the original menu.”

“I knew I liked that girl.” Now the machine began to beep in earnest. Another machine buzzed in counterpoint. Then a third joined the chorus. His father just grinned when three nurses rushed into the room.

“Everybody out,” the nurse barked, glaring at him.

Jack’s heart pounded so hard he felt like he needed a monitor too. His mother tugged him out of the room. Conflicting emotions sent him reeling against the wall. He’d spent years telling himself his father’s approval didn’t matter. He shouldn’t allow it to matter now.

A doctor swept past them, entering his father’s room. They waited in tense silence until two of the nurses and the doctor returned.

“He’s stable now, and we gave him a sedative,” the doctor said. “No more visitors until tomorrow morning. We’ll call if there is any change in his condition, but I don’t think you have any reason to worry at the moment. We’ll take good care of him.”

“Thank you,” his mother murmured, taking his hand and drawing him down the hall. She squeezed his hand. “You should probably think about getting your cholesterol checked.”

He nodded tightly. “Were you really in Cleveland with Dad?”

His mother nodded. “We’re too much alike to live together, but I told him I’d always be there for him.” A tear spilled down her cheek.

“You can’t possibly still love that bastard,” he said, astounded.

“Jackson, darling, of course I love him. You do, too. Nobody who didn’t love him would put up with his crap.”

Jack grunted, realizing she was right. Under his resentment was a deep desire to please his father, something he had thought was impossible. Without his father driving him to succeed, his life might have been very different, but Jack didn’t regret a moment of it. However, he was beginning to regret the harsh words he had spoken. His anguish must have shown on his face because his mother said, “Baby steps.”

He nodded and stepped into the street to hail a taxi for her.

“I’ll see you in a little while, darling. I just need to go home to change,” she said as he settled her into the car. He cocked his head to the side and stared at her, confused.

Her smile was indulgent. “It’s our baby boy’s big night. Your father will kill me if I don’t take some pictures.”

He shut the door and stepped back to the safety of the curb before his blurred vision got him killed. His world shifted then came back into focus. He wiped his eyes. So much had changed in the span of an hour. He was still angry with his dad, but clearing the air had unlocked a place inside him that hadn’t been open in years. For the first time, he felt like he could get past the anger.

But he couldn’t bypass his fury with Lila. She had deliberately set out to ruin him, and he was going to make her pay.