Chapter 2
Brendan was finally out of the chaos, but the work was just beginning back at the wreck site. Roadblocks and orange traffic cones were up. Fire trucks were still on-site aiding in rescues. Ambulances were running hot, taking victims to the hospital, then coming back for more. Four ambulances from nearby Bowling Green soon arrived on the scene to help transport the injured. And in the middle of all that, highway patrol cars began to arrive.
The snow was falling heavier now, but the interior auxiliary lights were still working inside the bus, which aided the rescuers tending to those still trapped inside. Broken glass was everywhere.
The moving van was in a field, a good twenty-five yards beyond the highway, with the contents of the trailer strewn around it. Someone’s worldly possessions were in bits, just like the people being pulled out of the bus.
The driver of the van was sitting on the ground, dazed and bleeding, as a trio of firemen ran into the field to get him.
The screams from the tourists still trapped on the bus had gone from cries for help and shrieks of pain to a growing silence. It was the silence that worried the rescue workers most.
The police now had the two-lane highway completely blocked off to traffic from both directions, and highway patrolmen were manning the locations. Every police officer in Jubilee was at the scene, including Chief Sonny Warren, who was directing traffic for the ambulance drivers.
Wiley and Doug wound up inside the bus, helping the EMTs get people on stretchers out by sliding the stretchers along the framework of the overturned seats, using them like a stationary conveyor to get them to the rescuers waiting on the ground.
A couple of men from the rescue squad were near the front of the bus, trying to free a young woman trapped beneath a pair of seats that had been crushed down on top of her. She kept going in and out of consciousness, and the only thing she’d said since they began working with her was a repeated plea to find her baby.
When Wiley heard that, he realized she must be the mother of the little boy Brendan found .
Firemen were using a Jaws of Life to try and pry the crushed seats up enough to remove the trapped woman when she regained consciousness again, and the first person she locked eyes on was Wiley.
“Did you find my baby?” she asked.
“Can you tell me your name?”
“Lisa Hamilton. Have you found Davey?”
“Davey is your son, right?” Wiley said.
She reached for her head. Blood was everywhere. It scared her to think what might have happened to her son, and started to cry. “Yes. He’s three years old. He was sitting in my lap holding Fuzzy, his toy tiger. He is wearing a red plaid jacket and denim pants. He doesn’t have a hat. He’ll be cold.”
Wiley recognized the description. “Ma’am, he’s already been found, and he was sitting up and awake when they found him. He’s been taken to ER.”
Her eyes were tear-filled and wide with shock and panic. “You swear?”
“I swear. It was my brother who found him,” Wiley said.
“Thank God,” Lisa whispered, and passed out again.
A few minutes later, they had her freed, on a stretcher, and were carrying her to a waiting ambulance. She was the last passenger to be removed.
***
As the day waned, Wiley checked in with his wife, Linette, who was a nurse at the hospital.
“How’s it going, honey?” he asked.
“It’s a nightmare,” Linette said. “I’ve already agreed to work a double shift. The workload is crazy, so I won’t be home before sometime tomorrow.”
“I’m going to be really late, too,” Wiley said. “Dani has a thing she has to go to and won’t be home later. I’m going to call Brendan and get him to take Ava up to Mom’s. She can spend the night there.”
“Thank God for big families,” Linette said. “I love you. Be careful.”
“Love you more,” Wiley said, then made a quick call to Brendan. The phone rang a couple of times, and then Brendan picked up. “Hey, Brendan, I need a huge favor.”
“Name it,” Brendan said.
Wiley quickly explained the situation, and then asked the favor. “Can you please get Ava and take her up to Mom’s for me?”
“Absolutely,” Brendan said. “I never pass up a chance to get an earful from my favorite little sister.”
Wiley chuckled. “You’ll get that, for sure, and thanks. I owe you.”
“Brothers come free. I’ll head that way now,” Brendan said, and disconnected, then went to put on his boots and get his heavy coat. He grabbed a blanket on the way out the door and threw it in the back seat, and headed to Aaron and Dani’s house.
It was still snowing, but not as heavily as it had been. Between the heater in the car and the windshield wipers, it kept the windows clear, and by the time he got to Dani’s, his car was also warm—certainly warm enough for one tiny little blue-eyed blond.
***
Ava knew all about the switch-up. She wasn’t bothered by any of it anymore. Her brother Wiley, who she called Bubba, was her rock, but after two years of being absorbed into the Pope family, she also knew her other brothers and their wives were always there for backup when the need arose. She was a different child from the starving, frightened child she’d been when she first arrived.
She was standing at the window, watching for sight of Brendan’s SUV to come into view, when Dani came up behind her and gave her a quick hug.
“Sugar, I’m so sorry I have this silly meeting back at school tonight, but BJ is going to take you up the mountain to Grandma’s house, and when Bubba and Linette get through helping with the people who wrecked, they’ll pick you up from there and take you home, okay?”
“We’re supposed to call him Brendan now ’cause everyone calls him that at work,” Ava said.
Dani grinned. “Yes, I know, but sometimes I forget, because he was BJ first to me.”
“Like Wiley was Wiley until I called him Bubba,” Ava said, and then shifted gears in midconversation. “I love going to Grandma’s house.”
Dani was still smiling. She was used to Ava’s chatter. “And Grandma loves having you.”
Ava nodded. “She’ll have cookies.”
Dani nodded. “I bet you’re right.” Everyone in the family knew that Shirley Pope always had cookies or something equally good to snack on. “Oh, there comes Brendan now. Go get your backpack and coat.”
Ava took off running as her brother was getting out of the car, and Dani opened the door before he had time to knock. “Come in out of the cold,” she said.
“Thanks, Dani. The snow is really coming down. I may have to park the bike until spring.”
She shuddered. “I don’t know how you’ve been riding it all winter.”
He shrugged. “Close to work. Easy to maneuver in traffic. And the kitchens are always hot because of ovens and grills. I warm up in no time. I’m feeling sorry for the people injured in the wreck and the emergency and police who are still out there. I think all of the people have been transported, but they’ll have to wait for a commercial-grade wrecker to deal with that overturned bus, and it’s getting dark. I know they’re anxious to get the road cleared.”
Dani nodded. “Aaron called me a few minutes ago. Told me to watch out for emergency vehicles coming and going on my way back to school.”
At that point, Ava came running. “I’m ready!”
Brendan swooped her up in his arms. She was still the tiniest thing, and he was the tallest Pope. They made quite a pair.
Ava hugged him and then leaned back enough to look him straight in the face, her forehead wrinkled with concern. “Are you ever afraid to be this tall?”
He grinned. “Nope. Are you afraid up here?”
“Maybe a little,” she said.
“Why? You know I’m not gonna drop you.”
“My feet can’t touch the floor,” she said.
He winked. “Yeah, but mine can. See?”
She looked down the length of his long legs to his size-thirteen boots standing firmly on the floor, and then up at him, and nodded.
“Are we going to Grandma’s house now?” she asked.
He nodded and then glanced at Dani. “I’ll add my caution to Aaron’s. Drive safe, Sister.”
“I will. The same to you two.”
And then they were gone.
Ava was in the back seat, tucked in warmly beneath Brendan’s blanket, talking about school and Mikey Pope all the way up the mountain.
Brendan already knew the two were buddies, but every other word out of her mouth was Mikey this and Mikey that. It made him smile, thinking of how random it was that they’d even found out they had a half-sister, and what a blessing she’d become to him and his brothers. But it was Wiley who saw her first as the waif she was. She had turned on every protective, parental gene in his soul, and he made it his business to become her legal guardian.
She’d come to them as starved and neglected as a child could have been, distrusting of everyone and withdrawn to the point of believing that if she was quiet enough, she could disappear. And now she was a little magpie in the back seat, giving him a play-by-play of the last twelve hours of her life.
Brendan was approaching the turnoff to his mother’s house when he realized Ava had quit talking. He glanced up at her in the rearview mirror.
“You okay, sugar?” he asked.
Ava nodded. “Do you think Grandma will have cookies?”
He chuckled. “Ever since you came into our lives, Grandma always has cookies.”
Ava almost hugged herself with delight. “Because she loves me?”
“Because she loves you so much,” he said.
The impact of those words went straight to Ava’s love-starved little heart. She’d suffered too much too young and didn’t forget, but she’d finally learned to trust, and that was what saved her.
“We’re here,” he said, as he turned off the blacktop into the drive.
Shirley Pope had turned on the porch lights, and the security light on the pole in the front yard gave them plenty of light to see by as Brendan parked.
He grabbed Ava’s backpack as she got out and bolted for the steps. Moments later, Shirley Pope was standing in the doorway with her arms open.
“There’s my girl!” Shirley said, and picked her up and hugged her, then winked at her youngest. “Come in where it’s warm, Son. Thank you for bringing her up. Wiley called about the wreck. Such a terrible thing. I hope to God there were no fatalities.”
Brendan shut the door behind him as he walked in, dropped Ava’s backpack on the sofa, and shed his coat as he followed them into the kitchen. Amalie, Sean’s wife, was setting the table. Ava already had a cookie, and he didn’t wait for an invitation to help himself.
“Isn’t the snow beautiful?” Amalie asked, as she looked up at him and smiled.
Brendan gave his sister-in-law a quick smile and a wink. “It sure is, honey,” he said. They all knew how much she loved the snow.
“Coffee’s fresh,” Shirley said.
He got a coffee cup from the cupboard, filled it, and then took a quick sip. “Good stuff, Mom. Is Sean in his office?”
“Can I take Sean a cookie?” Ava asked.
“Of course,” Shirley said.
Ava grabbed another cookie and took off running.
Brendan glanced at his mom and at the delight on her face. “She’s sure made a difference in our lives, hasn’t she?”
Shirley sighed. “The blessing we didn’t know we needed. On another note, what do you know about that wreck? Wiley mentioned something about a bus full of tourists and a moving van.”
“I witnessed it. I’m the one who called it in. I pulled a young man off the top of the bus who had a bad cut on his leg. He’s Josie Fallin’s brother.”
Amalie gasped. “ The Josie Fallin?”
Brendan nodded. “I’m hoping they got him to surgery in time. He was bleeding pretty bad. I even found a little boy in the ditch who’d been ejected from the wreck. It’s been a day,” he said.
Shirley’s mouth dropped. “Good lord! I had no idea. Well, you know you were there at that moment for a reason, don’t you?”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am. And I got a very desperate hug from a little boy when I pulled him out of the weeds.”
Shirley’s eyes welled. “Bless his little heart. How will they manage in the dark?”
“I think the only thing they’re still waiting on is a commercial tow truck with a lift to get that bus rolled back over, but they have floodlights.”
She sighed. “Of course. But you know me, I’m bound to worry. Now, go say hi to your brother. I’m making steaks and baked potatoes. You’re invited to supper.”
“I better be,” he said, and kissed her on the cheek and then left the kitchen.
Ava was sitting in Sean’s lap at the computer and, with his instructions, learning how to play a game he’d pulled up, when Brendan walked in.
Sean looked up. “Hey, BJ. How’s the hotel business?”
“We’re supposed to call him Brendan,” Ava muttered, without taking her gaze from the computer screen.
Sean grinned and ignored her.
“The hotel business is sketchy,” Brendan muttered.
Sean frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t trust the manager Ray hired, and his daughter, who lives with him, is a royal pain. I can’t go anywhere in the hotel without her popping up out of nowhere. She’s a nutcase. I’m sick of her and her father.”
Sean frowned. “Has anyone talked to Ray about them?”
“Nobody wants to worry Ray. Stress is the last thing he needs. Liz is there. She’s still the go-between for her dad and knows what’s going on about most things, so we leave it up to her to share what she thinks he can handle.”
“What are you going to do?” Sean said.
“Put up with Larry, and ignore the daughter until I can’t,” Brendan said. “Enough about all that. Hey, Ava, what are you playing?”
Her eyes were still glued to the computer screen and the moving figures. “A game,” she muttered.
Sean wiggled his eyebrows at his brother and took another bite of the cookie Ava brought him.
Brendan left them to it and returned to the kitchen to help his mom and Amalie finish supper.
“Want me to grill the steaks?” he asked.
Shirley handed him a pair of tongs. “With my blessing,” she said.
Amalie elbowed him teasingly. “You’re handy dandy in the kitchen, little brother. You’re going to make some woman happy.”
“Cooking is only one of my skills,” he said.
Shirley blushed.
Amalie laughed.
Brendan grinned. Women didn’t scare him. In fact, now that he thought about it, nothing scared him much anymore.
***
It was very late by the time the road had been cleared and Wiley was finally headed home. He’d already talked to Linette and asked her to check on Lisa Hamilton and her son, Davey, and to see if Alex Fallin had come through surgery okay so he could let Brendan know.
Linette was staying at the hospital, taking a double shift to help cover the influx of injured patients, and his mom had already called to tell him she’d put Ava to bed, so he was going home alone. He would stop by the house early in the morning with clean clothes for Ava, then take her on to school.
The drive up the mountain felt longer than usual, but someone had graded the road, making the drive a little easier. By the time he pulled up to the house, all he could think about was a hot bath.
He walked into the old two-story house that had once belonged to their great-aunt Ella Pope and headed for the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge and then went upstairs. He took a quick sip of the beer as he started the bathwater, dumped in the bath salts, and then went back to his and Linette’s bedroom and stripped. His uniform was as muddy and bloody as he was, but a trip to the cleaners would fix that. He stepped into the tub with his beer, sank down into the hot water, and closed his eyes.
***
A few days had passed since the raid on Wilhem Crossley’s warehouse and his son, Tipton, was on his way home from the airport. Wilhem had skipped going to the office today so he’d be home when Tip arrived.
A few minutes later, he heard a car pull up in front of the estate and looked out. It was Tipton, all bundled up against the cold, getting out of a cab. Wilhem went to the door to greet him. “Welcome home, Son.”
“Dad! Man it’s good to be home!” Tip said.
“And it’s good to have you home,” Wilhem said as he closed the door.
Tip dropped the luggage and gave his dad a big hug. “The trip was very successful. The Hong Kong market is booming, as is the one in Osaka. Oh…I also have some great reproduction pieces coming in from Greece.”
“Good, that’s good, but we have to talk,” Wilhem said.
“Sure thing,” Tip said, and then saw the frown on his dad’s face. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“It’s not me; it’s something to do with the company. I’ll have Borders take your luggage up. Get comfortable, and then meet me in the library.”
Tip frowned. “This sounds serious.”
“About as serious as it gets,” Wilhem said. “Have you had breakfast?”
“Not yet.”
“I’ll ring Cook to bring some rolls and coffee to the library,” Wilhem said. Father and son parted company in the foyer, only to rejoin each other in the library a short while later.
Tip entered, poured himself some coffee, grabbed a sweet roll, and took a bite before moving to the blazing log in the fireplace.
“So, what’s up?” he said as he took his first bite.
Wilhem shoved his hands in his pockets and began to explain. The look on his son’s face went from shock, to disbelief, to anger.
“What the hell, Dad? How did this happen right under our noses? Oh my God. Are we in trouble, too? Do the feds believe we had anything to do with all that?”
“No, no,” Wilhem said. “I suspected something was off but couldn’t put my finger on it, so right after you left, I hired an auditor specializing in corporate crime who soon found the money trail, what had happened, and then where the money was actually going. We are the ones who turned all of this over to the authorities, so we’re in the clear.”
Tip was in shock. “It was someone within the corporation, wasn’t it? Had to be. How could they hide our money when—” He stopped. “Oh my God, it had to be someone in accounting to be able to juggle accounts like that. Am I right?”
Wilhem nodded. “It was Maury Paget. He agreed to testify for a lesser charge.”
“Where’s the justice in that?” Tip shouted. “He gets off easy for robbing us blind? How much money? How much have we lost?”
Wilhem sighed. “Millions.”
The shock on Tip’s face was evident. “Oh my God. Are we in trouble financially? I can sell Mother’s estate. She left it to me when she passed. We hardly ever use it.”
“No, no, Son. We’re not in that kind of trouble. We’re still comfortably solvent, but it was a big hit. Paget swears he’ll give up everything he knows, but not before he gets a deal from the justice department. And this does involve federal authorities, because the kidnapped women were being shipping out of the U.S. bound for foreign ports.”
Tip dropped the sweet roll in the trash. “I’m sick to my stomach,” he muttered. “Why didn’t you call? I would have come home.”
“The feds gave us a gag order. No mention of anything until after the raid, and even then, there was nothing you could have done. Nothing I could have done. Had it not been for Harley Banks, it would still be ongoing.”
“Who’s he?” Tip asked.
“The auditor, and he’s a she.”
“Oh. Right. So, where are we legally? Are we in limbo until the trial, or can we continue to do business as usual? I ask because there will be shipments arriving within the month.”
“We’re clear, but we’ll have to unload at a different warehouse. The one we’ve been using is still considered a crime scene.”
“What a mess,” Tip said. “Well, we’ll do what we have to do. We’ll unload the new shipments at the other warehouse until we get the big one back.”
Wilhem slumped into a nearby chair. “I’m glad you’re home.”
The exhaustion on his father’s face was evident, and in that moment, Tip saw the age on his father’s face and wanted to cry. He dropped to his knees in front of Wilhem’s chair and hugged him.
“Don’t worry, Dad. I’ve got this.”
***
Days after the wreck outside of Jubilee, Brendan had still not mentioned his part in the rescues to anyone at work. In his mind that was over, but there was still unrest at the Serenity Inn, beginning almost from the day of the new manager’s arrival.
Ray Caldwell, the owner of the inn, had been in Boston for over five months now, recovering from open-heart surgery.
Larry Beaumont, the new manager, came with a respectable résumé and unforeseen baggage—a twenty-four-year-old daughter named Justine, who took to living in the hotel penthouse like she’d been born to it. Once she figured out that she had the run of the hotel, the spa, the massage therapists, the hotel beauty salon, and room service from the hotel kitchens, she abused every aspect of those services.
Unfortunately, Justine’s résumé was not as spotless as her father’s. She’d flunked out of one college and was kicked out of another, and had done two stints in a rehab for alcoholics. She’d just moved home with Larry when he was offered the position in Jubilee, so she happily packed up and came with him. Who wouldn’t want to live in the penthouse of a five-star hotel?
But after arriving, she’d balked at going to work anywhere within the tourist community. In her mind, she wasn’t serving the public in any way. She was meant to be the one being served. And, she hadn’t been at the hotel long before she caught a glimpse of the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.
Finding out he worked at the hotel was icing on the cake, and learning he was the head pastry chef, even better. His name was Brendan Pope. He was someone with cachet and a good salary, plus he piqued every sexual instinct she had. The only problem was, they were more than five months into their stay, and Brendan Pope had turned down every blatant invitation she’d given him.
***
Two days ago, she’d been standing out on the balcony, having morning coffee and wishing she’d put on a coat before she’d come out, when she saw him come speeding into the employee parking lot on his motorcycle.
Brendan Pope. Obviously late for work! The main dining room would be packed today and tonight because of Valentine’s Day, and he wasn’t on the job!
When she saw him dismount and finger-comb his hair after taking off the helmet, she got hot, which angered her even more. She was angry at being rebuffed and was looking for revenge. Maybe she needed to apply pressure in another area, so she picked up her phone and called her dad. The phone rang twice and then he answered.
“Hey, sweetheart. Happy Valentine’s Day. Did you see the pink roses I sent to you?”
“Yes, I did, and thank you. You are such a good daddy,” she said, and then pretended concern as she continued their conversation. “A few minutes ago, I stepped out on the balcony for a bit of fresh air and saw your star pastry chef just arriving for work. He’s late, and considering the holiday and all, and at the rate of what he’s being paid, I would think that shouldn’t be happening.”
“He’s not late. He asked for the time days ago. Personal business. The staff is perfectly capable of standing in for him for a few hours.”
She frowned. “Oh, well, whatever then,” she said. Frustrated that she couldn’t get Brendan in trouble, she soon disconnected.
***
The moment Larry’s call ended, he went back to his computer to check inventory records and see what was on request for reorders.
It had been Larry’s decision to change a couple of vendors Ray Caldwell was using. Larry had a cousin in the wholesale business, and one of his lines was single-use bars of soap and travel-size bottles of shampoos and lotions that hotels and motels used as complimentary toiletries. The products were cheap and came in simple plastic vials, rather than the clear plastic with the hotel name and logo on the labels from the vendor Ray used. He also changed their meat purchases to a wholesaler he knew. The meat and cuts were of a lesser quality, but Larry made the same deal with him that he’d made with his cousin.
In return for him giving them the business at the Serenity Inn, they would upcharge their own cheaper products to the same amount Ray had been paying before. Then the purchasing department would think nothing of it, pay the bills as usual, and Larry and the wholesalers would split the extra profits.
This way, Larry was getting two monthly bonuses under the table without anyone knowing. He’d done it a time or two before and never been caught, and he liked knowing he had a nest egg besides his regular salary.
***
Oblivious to the fact that Justine Beaumont had just tried to tattle on him, Brendan entered the staff entrance of the hotel. He thrived in his chosen field, but his job had become complicated since the manager’s arrival.
He’d become the focus of Justine Beaumont’s fancy, to the point it was nothing shy of stalking. She wouldn’t keep her hands off him and stalked him throughout the hotel. She lurked in the staff hallways trying to catch him coming or going, and jumped in elevators with him at every chance. He’d been semi-patient at first, then began ignoring her completely, up until last month when she waylaid him again in an elevator.
He had been waiting for the staff elevator and checking messages on his phone when the car finally arrived. The door opened. He glanced up, saw it was empty, and walked on, still reading the message. Just as the doors were closing, he heard footsteps and turned to see Justine slip inside.
“That was close,” she said, and gave him a look.
He pocketed his phone the minute he saw it was her, and when she headed toward him with a smirk on her face, he knew from past experience that he was going to have to fight his way out.
“How about a little quickie? We could always stop the car,” she whispered, and put her hands on his chest and leaned in to him. She was reaching below his belt when he grabbed her wrists, spun her into the corner, and pinned her hands above her head.
The tone of his voice was flat and as emotionless as his expression. “What’s the matter with you? No means no.”
She laughed. “I want what I want. A fight just makes everything better.”
“You’re not getting anything from me, including that fight. Grow the hell up,” he said, and turned her loose.
She turned on the tears, and slipped the whiny baby tone into her voice. “Why are you so mean? I just want to be friends,” she said.
“I’m not mean, and turn off the tears. They’re fake and so are you. You don’t want a friend. You want to get laid and that’s not happening. Not with me. You’ve been stalking me for months like some hooker on a street corner trying to score an easy fifty on Saturday night. I’m telling you for the last time…leave me the hell alone.”
Her face was twisted with rage as she pulled a knife out of her pocket and swung it at his face.
Shocked, he jumped back. The knife missed his face, but left a long ugly scratch down the side of his neck.
He knocked the knife out of her hand and slammed her against the back wall of the elevator just as the doors opened.
Justine was screaming obscenities and scrambling for the knife when he punched a random number on the panel and leaped out just as the doors were closing. He could hear her screaming and cursing as the doors went shut.
He was holding a handkerchief to his neck as he walked into the kitchen.
“Brendan! What the hell?” Chef Randolph cried.
“Justine. Swung a knife at my face and missed,” he muttered.
“Oh my God! That does it! Someone needs to tell Ray about this!” he said.
Brendan shook his head. “No, that’s the last thing Ray needs to know. Her father is the one who needs to tie a knot in her chain, but he’s oblivious.”
“Go down to the break room. I’ll make a call to see if the EMTs will make a house call,” Randolph said.
Brendan nodded, but skipped the elevator and took the stairs down. He was in the break room when the EMTs arrived.
“It’s not deep, but I probably need a tetanus shot, and I can’t work in the kitchen with an open wound. Can you bandage me up?” he asked.
“Do we need to know how this happened?” one of the EMTs asked.
“Probably not,” Brendan said. “And whatever you do, don’t tell my brothers.”
***
After that, he started taking the stairs to evade her. And that was a month ago. Now when they saw each other, if looks could kill, Brendan would already be dead.
None of the staff liked her. She stomped through the hotel demanding this, and complaining about that, and then obviously repeating her complaints to her father. Larry would appear soon afterward, chiding them for mistreating the guests, when in truth, he was referring to his daughter’s imaginary mistreatment.
***
But today, Justine Beaumont was the last thing on Brendan’s mind as he hurried into the staff entrance, stored his helmet and jacket in his locker, and then took the staff elevator up to the floor where he worked.
Within minutes, he was in the baking area, suited up in a snow-white chef’s jacket and baker’s cap, overseeing the fresh batches of breads and rolls coming out of the ovens, making sure there were plenty on hand for the noon crowd, and starting more dough to rise for the dinner crowd tonight. Once he was satisfied all that was in progress, he began checking the quality of various desserts for the dessert carts and pulling pastries from the coolers to put his finishing touches on them for tonight. It was business as usual, with waiters coming and going with orders, and the staff from room service coming to pick up orders to be delivered. They were racing to get the orders ready for a table of twelve when they got a room service order from the penthouse.
As always, the picky details of what Justine wanted to eat irked Thomas Randolph, the hotel’s chef de cuisine. She’d just ordered shrimp puttanesca, even though it wasn’t on the lunch menu, and pecan pie, which also wasn’t on the menu.
Chef Randolph banged a pan and cursed aloud. And when one of the kitchen staff went to the pastry area about the pie, Brendan just shrugged it off.
“We don’t have pecan pie on the menu anymore, and haven’t had it for nearly a year,” he said. “Just call her back and ask for another choice.”
“She’s not going to like that answer,” the waiter said.
“She is not our problem. The diners waiting for their orders are our main focus,” Brendan said.
“Yes, Chef,” the waiter said, and headed for the room service area to call her back.
When Justine got that message, she cursed out the woman who’d called her and hung up, then grabbed her cell phone.