Scrumptious (18 page)

Marly responded to the cards in front of her, the events of the past week fueling her cold, calculating play. She usually won when she was angry, and tonight, her mood was positively lethal. She folded a barely decent hand and glanced from table to table. Danny had been dead set on finding Keith tonight, but Keith was nowhere to be found.

Most of the guys at the tables in the main poker room looked slick, sharp, and bored. They wore suits or dark collarless shirts and no smiles. The remaining men and women filling in each table also had a few things in common. They had drinks close to their elbows, and they seemed to be having the time of their lives.

A waitress offered her a free drink, and she surmised which group she was supposed to fit into. Marlene took it and smiled widely, making a show of how thrilled she was to get free alcohol. She looked down at her cards. Oh, crap, too late to fold.

She won the hand anyway.

Marlene turned her full attention to her new hand. It was soothing to concentrate on the cards while her thoughts swirled themselves into order in her mind. She waited to see which thought would emerge on top of the chaos.

Joe, naturally.

No huge surprise there. She hadn’t managed to focus on anything else since he hit town.

Her eyes slid to Danny, playing a side game one table over. It was way past time to put her personal theory into practice, but Danny seemed like such a kid to her now. It was hard to imagine being naked with him after being with…Joe.

She folded a weak ace and checked out the rest of the men playing around the room. Not one single guy caused a spark of interest, not even the Italian stallion watching the play from the corner of the room.

Marlene gave Rocky a second look, just to be sure. The guy was big and dense. Two weeks ago, seducing him would have been a no-brainer for her. She would have taken him for a tumble just for the novelty of stripping a silk suit from a man instead of a pair of jeans or checked cotton chef pants.

Damn Joe for taking that away from her. Damn his wicked eyes and his hot, hard hands. Double damn his annoying observations. He was right. Why hadn’t she tried harder to make Olivia understand she wanted to run the line?

She knew the operation inside and out, from the dish room to the front of the house and everything in between. She knew every menu item, every vendor and purveyor, every employee’s family. She had created the dessert menu, tweaked half of the items on the regular menu, and even made suggestions on the martini list. A cold surge of fury made her clutch the pair of eights in her hand. Snowmen. She called. She didn’t just want to run Chameleon. She deserved to run the restaurant.

She had done everything at Chameleon but hire staff and balance the books, and those were the two things that were killing them. She hadn’t been blowing sunshine when she told Keith last week that she would be welcome in any kitchen in town. Not as a prep cook either. She could handle any station, in any kitchen. She could run the whole damn kitchen. If she were any other person, she would be running a kitchen. She’d be running Chameleon.

So the big question was, why wasn’t she?

She didn’t want to face the simplest answer. If Olivia thought Marlene had what it took to handle Chameleon, she would have offered her the job by now. The fact that she had not spoke for itself.

Marlene focused on the game again, afraid of the direction her thoughts were taking her. She caught an eight on the flop. She checked. It was time to slow it down and set a trap.

She was never going to be good enough to run the kitchen at Chameleon. After fifteen years, it was time to stop pretending it was going to happen. Olivia was her best friend, a far cry from a wicked stepsister, but she was feeling more like Cinderella every minute. Maybe she should thank Joe for bringing that to her attention. Maybe that made him her fairy fucking godmother.

She had put her sweat, her tears and, occasionally even her blood into making Chameleon a great restaurant. Chameleon was her home. She didn’t want to leave it, but the next logical step for Olivia was to hire and train a new chef, a process that she would expect Marlene to facilitate. A couple of weeks ago, she wouldn’t have given it a second thought. Now, she wasn’t sure she could do it. She didn’t want to stand by and let another chef take the reins of the kitchen while she hid in the bakeshop again.

That left her with a huge decision to make. Continue to do a job she was never going to get credit for doing or leave Chameleon and start over?

Marlene heard her opponent go all in, and she responded automatically, calling and showing her three eights. The other player threw away his pair of aces in disgust.

She looked at the huge pile of chips in front of her.
Quit
while
you’re ahead
, she thought.

Marlene pushed her chair away from the table and gathered her chips. They had the wedding to get through. Then Joe was leaving. If she was actually going to do this, she’d have to give Olivia at least a month’s notice. She owed her that much.

Marlene felt as if a big empty bubble surrounded her. Was this what it felt like to have room to spread her wings? She took a tentative step toward the cash cage and stumbled, nearly dropping her chips. Freedom might take some getting used to.

After she cashed in her chips, she walked over to Danny’s table and put her hand on his shoulder. “Are you ready to get out of here?” she asked.

He folded without looking at his cards and pushed away from the table.

Joe pulled into the Niagara Falls Casino parking lot and killed the engine. He didn’t exactly have a plan at this moment, but he knew that he wasn’t done with Marlene tonight.

A black Mercedes GLK pulled up next to him, stereo pounding hard enough that he felt the downbeat in his sternum. He glanced over as the door opened and the noise cut off. Mario from the dish room slid out of the SUV with his cell phone pressed to his ear. Through the open door, Joe saw Mikey, the new bartender, hop out of the other side. That was a pretty sweet ride for a couple of kitchen rats. How the hell could they have been talking on their cells with all that racket going on?

Joe watched the two men, ready to give them a smile and a wave of recognition, but they didn’t look his way. Nice threads, he noticed, as they hurried away from the truck. Another door slammed.

A familiar figure skulked away from the back of the SUV. The boy kept his head down as he headed for the casino, but Joe had seen him in just that posture everyday for a week now. It was easy to identify Anthony from the back of his head and the suspicious hunch of his slight shoulders, even though he had changed out of his work clothes too.

The door to the casino opened wide, and Anthony ducked into the bushes at the side of the building. Marlene came out of the front door, laughing and smiling at Danny. Well, wasn’t that cozy? Joe gritted his teeth as Danny wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her on the cheek. He gripped the steering wheel, Anthony forgotten, as he watched the pair cross the parking lot. Danny held the door for Marlene, and she slid right into his car.

Joe started his truck.

He kept a careful distance behind them in the casino parking lot and a few cars between them on the highway during the twenty-minute drive back to Norton. He wasn’t worried about losing them. He knew where they were going.

His brain slipped out of neutral when they passed Chameleon where Marlene’s car sat on the street. Why was he following her? She was moving on. He should stop, turn around, and go back to Olivia’s. Marlene was never going to want to settle down with him. It was time to go.

Joe watched Danny’s car pull into Marlene’s driveway. He coasted to the curb one house down the street, proving that knowing and doing are two different things. So this was what it felt like to be a total loser. His idea of heaven had become a sixteen-hour day, six-day workweek with a woman who was hell-bent on leaving him in the dust.

Do
not
turn
off
the
car
, Joe told himself.

He twisted the key. The doors automatically unlocked, and he put his hand on the door handle.

Do
not
get
out
of
the
car
.

He pulled the latch.

The sound of an engine broke the silence. Instinctively, he slid down in his seat until his head was below the level of the window, glad as hell that he hadn’t actually opened the door. Danny’s car shot past his Jeep, the engine loud in the quiet night.

He stayed down for a minute. Shame and an unfamiliar feeling choked his throat. He had read Olivia the riot act about selling people short, but he was doing the same thing to Marlene by assuming she would let Danny stay the night.

He straightened up in his seat. That fear of failure thing worked both ways. He could pretend his sole reason for leaving was that he didn’t want to hurt Marlene, but it wasn’t the whole truth. If he never told her he loved her, then she couldn’t tell him to go to hell again. He couldn’t fail. He couldn’t get hurt.

He had built a career out of one-night stands with restaurants and women, mastering the art of the great beginning but never having the courage to bother with the middle or the ending. He had started over with every town, every weekend, every woman. Starting fresh meant no one had time to build up expectations. No one made any promises. No one got hurt or disappointed.

But it also meant no one cared.

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head. Too late for that. He definitely cared about Marlene. Hell, he was in love with her. The last thing he wanted to do was throw all his stuff in the Jeep and drive across the country. More than anything, he wanted to knock on her kitchen door right now and tell her he wanted to stay, but he knew she wasn’t ready to hear it.
In
another
world, I could fall in love with you.
He now knew he’d been feeling her out, trying to judge what her response would be to the idea of a longer relationship. Abject horror. Fear. There had been nothing but rejection in her eyes. He stayed in the truck.

She wasn’t ready to hear it, wasn’t ready to admit it, but he’d lay money on the fact that she cared about him too. She had gone out with Danny tonight to make him jealous, but she hadn’t sealed the deal, had she? It didn’t mean she loved him, but it was something. It gave him somewhere to start. Convincing her wasn’t going to be easy, but didn’t he love a challenge?

He and Marly were a lot alike, at least on the surface. What had caused a change in him? His mom, initially. Without her interference, he would still be up North skipping from woman to woman like a rock across a river. The promises he had made to his mother hadn’t stopped his trajectory entirely, though. She had introduced him to the idea of settling down, but Marlene had changed the direction of his life. Her hot curves had initially attracted him, but he had fallen in love with her mad, fast kitchen skills and her ability to get the job done under any circumstances. He loved her quick sense of humor and her intelligence; he admired her loyalty to Olivia. Hell, there wasn’t anything he didn’t love about her, including her stubbornness. What would it take to convince her to let him stick around?

Sex? Not a bad idea. He could touch her until she couldn’t bear to think about what it would feel like when his hands weren’t on her skin, his breath on her lips, his body inside her walls. Sex was something they both understood, and it might soften her up a little.

He’d use food too. The way to a chef’s heart was through her stomach, and the busy weekend ahead of them guaranteed they would be spending a lot of time in the kitchen. He would cook for her, work with her, show her just how good they could be together.

Above all, he would not disappoint her. Her conversation with her father had been enlightening. As that thought hit home, a chunk of his grief disintegrated. Hope
—
tenuous, trembling, and new
—
took its place. He started the Jeep and pulled out into the street.
Oh, Mom
, he thought,
I
hope
you
knew
what
you
were
talking
about
.

Marlene had given up on sleep around dawn and was elbow deep in chocolate buttercream by the time Olivia walked into the bakeshop Thursday morning.

“Hey,” Olivia said, breaking the early morning silence.

“Hey yourself.” She finished scraping the bowl and wiped her hands on her side towel while Olivia stood at the office door watching her. Sadness welled up in her center.

Olivia spoke first. “I’m not going to sell Chameleon.”

“I know.” Marlene held Olivia’s eyes.

Olivia’s lips twitched. Looking into her friend’s face, Marlene wondered how to tell her that she was going to quit. “I’m sorry I ditched you last night,” she began.

“I know,” Olivia echoed.

Marlene grinned and threw her chocolate-covered side towel at her friend’s head. When Olivia ducked, the towel hit the wall next to her and left a greasy mark on the white tile. They both cracked up. It was easy for Marly to pretend for a little while longer that nothing had changed. “So what’s the plan? You need some grocery money or what?” she asked.

“No, that’s covered.”

“It is? How? I thought you said you were tapped out.”

“Joe didn’t tell you?”

“I haven’t seen him.” Marlene scrubbed the mark off the wall with a clean corner of the towel and tossed it in the bin.

“Of course you haven’t. You left with Danny last night. So does your theory work? All memories of the last guy erased?” Olivia sounded genuinely curious.

“No.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No,” Marlene said curtly.

“Will you at least tell me if I can expect Danny to show up for work? He tends to call in sick every time you break his heart.”

Marlene sighed. “Danny will be here. Nothing happened. He dropped me off at my door.”

“What about Joe?”

“I have no idea.”

“Fair enough. Can you make a list of everything we need for the wedding and call around for prices? I’m hoping we can cut some corners.”

Marlene reached into her back pocket and pulled out a wad of cash.

“What’s that?”

“We went to the casino last night. Lady Luck loves a pissed off woman.”

“Keep it.”

“No way. That’s your money. I just liberated it from the casino. We’ll get the rest when we catch up with dickhead.”

Olivia sighed. “At the moment, I’ve got bigger fish to fry with zero credit.”

“Shit. I forgot about that. I’ll call Jake at Pymco. He’ll give us whatever we need, with or without a credit rating. They love us over there, and Jake owes me a favor.”

“I thought Keith handled that account.”

Marly snorted. “Yeah, like I’d let Keith order anything expensive. Get real.”

“All right, that covers meat. What about produce?” Olivia asked.

“I got a ton of stuff at the farmer’s market last week, and if we need anything else, all my favorite vendors are programmed into my cell phone. I can get anything we need. I bet a couple of the guys will even deliver.”

“Guys?”

“Most of them.” Marlene shrugged. “Interested?”

“No. Are you?”

Marlene shook her head. Olivia’s small smile got under her skin.

“Good.” Olivia said, moving on. “Now we just have to get the work done. Got any bright ideas about how we can do that?”

Marlene cocked her head to the side. That was an odd question. Start cooking, how else?

Olivia turned her back and unlocked the office door. “I, uh, kind of dropped the ball last week. I’m just
—
never mind, I’ll figure it out.” Marlene leaned past her to toss the cash onto the desk.

“Thanks,” Olivia said. Her voice sounded thick. She kept her back to Marlene as she shut the door.

Marlene pulled the twenty-quart bowl of chocolate buttercream off the big mixer and set it on the prep table. Guilt made her stomach drop to her toes.

Some friend she was.

Olivia’s world had fallen apart and since then, Marlene had come in hungover, sabotaged lunch, gone on a road trip, thrown a temper tantrum, and walked out in the middle of service. The self-righteous indignation that had fueled her fury through her sleepless night abruptly burned itself out. Quit? Ha! She was damn lucky Olivia hadn’t fired her.

Marlene set the buttercream on her worktable and crossed to the office. She gave the door two sharp raps and opened it.

Olivia’s hair was falling into her eyes, as usual. Her shoulders were slumped as she sat at the desk. Not usual. Marlene wondered when the lines between Olivia’s brows had appeared, and whether she’d had anything to do with putting them there. Olivia bit her lip as she stared blankly at the computer screen.

“I abandoned you, didn’t I?” Marlene asked in a quiet voice.

Olivia turned from the screen, but she didn’t say anything. Her green eyes were watchful.

“Is that what you think?” Olivia said.

Marlene nodded, becoming more sure of her guilt by the minute. “Joe came into town, and I forgot everything important, like you and my job. You wouldn’t have even been thinking about selling Chameleon if I hadn’t been so utterly selfish, so completely taken over by hormones. God, I’ve been acting like a stupid teenager.”

“Joe has that effect on women.”

“Well, not anymore. I’m immune now.” Olivia snorted. “No, really, I’m back,” she insisted. “I’m going to get the wedding cake filled and iced today, so I can help you get everything else done tomorrow. There’s room on the rack for the cake, right?”

“Plenty of room until we manage to get some deliveries,” Olivia said.

“Don’t give it another thought. I’ve got that covered.”

“You do, huh? Because I feel the walls closing in. We’ve got so much to get done, and I don’t know what to do first. My wheels are spinning. I feel trapped. Just out of curiosity, what would you do if you were me?”

Marlene made a few mental calculations. They had lunch, dinner, the wedding, and then Sunday brunch to get through. Overtime? Unavoidable. After the wedding, there was next week without Joe, which would bring other challenges, but she wasn’t going to worry about that today.

“We can do this if we start hauling butt right now,” Marlene said. “I’ll divide up the prep list while you get ready for service. Send Danny to me when he gets in. He needs to learn the night grill menu. You’re going to promote him. We’ll need someone with experience on the line after
—
uh, you find a new chef. Joe’s on wedding prep. We’ll hit up the waitstaff for some prep hours too. Okay?”

“Sounds great,” Olivia’s voice held relief and something else. Her tears had disappeared, along with the lines between her eyes, and she seemed pleased with herself
—
odd considering she’d choked on the game plan. “Who’s going to give Joe his prep list?” she asked. Her small smile was getting bigger by the minute.

“You are.”

“Hell no,” Olivia said, still sporting her Cheshire cat grin.

“I’m not speaking to him,” Marlene said.

“Get over yourself, Marlene. Be a big girl. Didn’t you just say you were immune now?”

“Right.” She gritted her teeth. “I was just hoping you could run interference for me. Does he know I left with Danny?”

Olivia nodded.

“Good. That will make it easier.” Marlene cleared her suddenly tight throat. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve got to get out of this somehow.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? You’re in the middle of a divorce, and you want to know why I don’t want to get involved?”

“Joe isn’t Keith.”

“Joe’s leaving, Olivia.”

“Is that the only reason you’re trying to avoid getting attached? Because I think it’s too late. You’ve already accomplished the impossible, smart ass. Big, bad Joe Rafferty ain’t going anywhere anytime soon, so far as I can tell. I think he’s in love with you.”

“Tell me you’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“Then I’m definitely not talking to him,” Marlene said.

“You have to.” Satisfaction made Olivia’s green eyes gleam. “I’ll be busy cooking lunch, right? Isn’t that my assignment?”

“Bitch.”

Olivia giggled.

Well, two could play that game.

What she had to say was going to wipe that smirk right off Olivia’s face. Marlene flashed her own kitty cat grin. “Laugh it up while you have the chance, Olivia. I called your grandmother last week. She’s on her way to Norton at this very moment.”

“What?” Olivia’s giggle choked off in a gasp.

“Sorry,” Marlene said, not sorry at all. “You scared the crap out of me when you started talking about putting Keith back on the line. And all that shit about selling Chameleon? It just can’t happen, Olivia. We’ve worked too hard. Your parents would hit the roof.”

“You called my Nonna Lucia? She’s going to kill me!”

“She might if you don’t get your act together. She’s worried about you. I was angry when I called her, but really, I just want to help you, Olivia. You can’t do this alone. Will you let us help you?”

Olivia ignored the question. She leaned back in the chair and sighed. Her voice, when she spoke, was faint and small. “Did I ever tell you my father had a fit when I told him you were working in the bakeshop?”

“No.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they really liked Keith. I never told them anything about what was going on around here. Did you?”

“I might have filled your grandma in the other night.”

“Oh God. I’m so dead.”

“Nah, you’re safe for a while. Your parents are on a cruise, and I don’t think murder is Nonna Lucia’s style. She’s gonna yell though. I’ll hold your hand, just like old times.”

“What exactly did you tell her?” Olivia asked.

“The truth. That you kicked Keith out for screwing other women and you were having a meltdown. That was enough to get her to buy a ticket.”

“You told her about Keith?” Olivia looked horrified.

“You think Nonna doesn’t know about sex?” Marlene raised her eyebrows. “She may be a widow, but her memory is just fine. Um, I may also have mentioned that you have your head up your ass. Sorry about that.”

“I’m going to throw up.”

“No, you’re not. We’ve got too much to do.”

Olivia turned her eyes from the ceiling. “Hey, call me when you trim the wedding cake layers? I could use some chocolate therapy.”

“Sure thing,” Marlene said.

***

Marlene sawed the domed top off the six-inch layer of the chocolate wedding cake and thought about what it would be like if Joe stayed in Norton.

She didn’t do boyfriends.
Even
with
Joe?
her inner traitor needled. Nope. The sooner he left, the better.

Just because she didn’t want to hook up with Danny didn’t mean she’d never want any other man again. Okay, so what if there hadn’t been a single man in the poker room last night that had struck her fancy? She’d go to Johnny’s bar tonight. She would find someone.

What
if
the
next
guy
doesn’t work either?

Marlene grabbed a cake scrap and slapped chocolate buttercream onto it. She folded it in half and crammed her mouth full of cold cake until she could hardly breathe. As the flavors warmed up in her mouth, immediate, dark-chocolate comfort set in. Olivia could have the next cake sandwich. She needed chocolate therapy now.

Panic bloomed, and she took another bite of cake. It didn’t have to mean anything. Olivia was wrong. Joe was leaving, she told herself. Olivia had just been torturing her. Joe had a job in California. He was planning his menu. She was fine.

Marlene shoved the last bite of the cake scrap into her mouth and chewed. She had to pull it together. There was no way she could work like this. She re-wrapped the wedding cake layers and stuck them in the freezer. Change of plans. Cake next; list first. She grabbed a legal pad and got busy.

Twenty minutes later, she picked up the phone and called Pymco. Jake offered to deliver everything himself that afternoon if Marlene would make his daughter’s birthday cake next week.

Danny and Anthony would have to work doubles if they were willing. She made a note on another list. They needed another garde-manger cook. She’d mention that fact to Olivia if they survived the weekend.

After she got the cake set up and the bakeshop in good shape for the weekend, Marlene would take over on the line so Olivia could start handling wedding details. Thank God she had prepped her desserts so far ahead earlier in the week.

She bit her lip. Unfortunately, the only place for Joe to knock out the wedding prep was in the back room with her. Maybe he and Olivia could switch tasks. She rejected the idea. Olivia could cook lunch blindfolded, but she probably wasn’t up to knocking out a week’s worth of work in eight hours. It had to be Joe. She could just ignore him, right?

Marlene pulled the wedding cake layers out of the freezer again. She gathered cardboard rounds, filled a large piping bag with chocolate buttercream, got her dowels and clippers ready, and cranked the lid off the European raspberry puree. Towel, serrated knife, offset palette, bench scraper, what else?

Marlene began to cut the layers, engrossed in the process of building the wedding cake. Saw the layer, turn, saw, turn. Lift and separate. Measure each stacked tier of cake to make sure they were all the same height.

Now fill them. Make a buttercream dam and spread the filling evenly within the ring of sweet, chocolate icing. First a thin layer of European raspberry puree. Not too thick; a little went a long way with the good stuff. Then scoop and spread a thicker layer of chocolate buttercream. Another layer of cake. Do it again. Keep it even. Keep it neat. Crumb coat. Chill. Do the next tier.

Before she knew it, it was past noon. She looked at her watch. She had heard Joe’s voice on the line an hour ago. Even though she had been immersed in building the wedding cake, she had been peripherally aware of him at every minute. Her ears were attuned to the timbre of his voice, and her eyes sought him out every time she saw the flash of a white jacket going into the walk-in.

By the time one o’clock rolled around, Marlene was starving and strung out from hyper-awareness. Before the whole Joe thing, she would have gone up to the line to make herself something to eat before the lunch rush, but it was too late. She’d just be in the way. On the other hand, if she kept sucking down cake scraps, she’d never make it through service tonight without crashing, hard. Marlene’s stomach growled, and she rubbed it.