CHAPTER TWO
Rhonda and I decided to go talk to Jean-Luc.
When he saw us approaching, he raised his eyebrows. “What brings you to my kitchen at such a busy time?”
The question held a bit of reproach.
“Sorry to interrupt you,” I quickly said. “Do you have a moment to talk to us?”
He looked up at the wall clock. “Okay.”
He led us to his office and stood waiting for us to speak. I knew he wasn’t necessarily being rude; he was just aware of his time before creating another successful dining experience at The Beach House Hotel.
“What do you know about Jonny Arno?” Rhonda asked.
“He’s opening a restaurant up the beach from us,” I added.
Jean-Luc frowned and shook his head. “Il est un batard. Difficile.”
“In English?” Rhonda said.
“He’s known as a real bastard, very difficult. His ego outweighs his body, if that’s possible. He’s lazy and out-of-shape from the rich food he has others make for him.”
“Wow!” Rhonda said. “You really don’t like him.”
“No,” Jean-Luc said. “I don’t trust him at all. And as for the restaurant he claims he’s opening, it will be left to others to do all the work, though he’ll take the credit for it.”
“Let us tell you about a young man we just met who’s looking for a job in the kitchen.
A C.I.A graduate with ten-plus years of experience, he’s been blackballed in Miami for accusing Chef Arno of stealing his personal recipes.
The chef made sure he’d never work in Miami, which is why he’s looking for work on the Gulf Coast ,” I explained.
“We’re going to talk to him and his friend, a bartender, to try and help them,” said Rhonda. “Would you be open to having him work in your kitchen?”
Jean-Luc shrugged. “If he’s qualified and willing to work hard, I’ll see.”
“That’s all we’re asking. We understand the decision is yours, not ours,” I said to Jean-Luc. We’d do nothing to abuse our respect and gratitude for him.
“I’m going to look into this new restaurant coming to the area. What else do you know about it?” Jean-Luc asked.
“The name of it is going to be Osteria Arno,” said Rhonda, “and that bastard, Brock Goodwin, is apparently an investor of sorts.”
“Already it doesn’t sound good,” said Jean-Luc. “Let me see what else I can find out about it, and I’ll get back to you. After talking with the young chef tomorrow, if you’re satisfied that he’s an excellent candidate, I’ll do my own evaluation.”
“Thank you, Jean-Luc,” I said, as he turned away.
“That was an interesting conversation,” said Rhonda. “I’m very curious to discover more about the young canapé chef.”
“And his charming girlfriend. I’m thinking she’d be someone to hire for the cocktail hour shift, so she can help to attract a younger crowd the girls want us to focus on.”
“Why don’t we ask Liz and Angela to interview her? That will give them a chance to participate in the hotel and will help us decide if we want to go ahead with a program aimed at young married and dating couples.”
“Smart idea,” I said. “I know how limited their time is as they tend to their growing families. But we need to keep our daughters’ interest up in helping us with the hotel so that they’ll be ready to take over for us someday.”
“With seven young children between the two of them, it’s difficult for them to work here,” Rhonda said. “But, like you, I don’t want them to lose their enthusiasm for running the hotel in the future.”
“I’m going to call Liz now to see when she and Angie could come to the hotel to meet with Harper,” I said, pleased for the opportunity to speak to my daughter. With almost five-year-old triplets and an eighteen-month-old baby boy, Liz didn’t have the time for much else. I punched in Liz’s number.
“Hi, Gammy,” said a voice I recognized as Olivia’s. My name had changed a few times, but had ended up as Gammy when Noah declared it was the best one. His sisters, Olivia and Emma, went along with it.
“Hi, Sweetheart. Is Mommy there?”
“Yes, hold on please,” said Olivia, acting as her mother’s self-important helper.
Chuckling, I waited for Liz to get to the phone.
“Hi, Mom. What’s up?” Liz asked.
“I want to run an idea by you,” I said. “But first, I need to compliment Olivia on her phone manners. She did very well.”
“We’ve worked hard on that. I’ll be happy to tell her she did a great job. How are you?”
“Busy as ever at the hotel. Rhonda and I thought you and Angie might like to interview someone for a bartender position at the hotel’s Lobby Bar.
She’s young but apparently talented at her job.
We’re doing a background check now. We thought she’d be perfect for the campaign you and Angie are putting together to bring in a younger crowd. ”
“What’s the timing?” Liz asked. “I can juggle things around a bit.”
“Rhonda and I are meeting with her and her friend, a chef, tomorrow afternoon. Perhaps sometime later or the day after that, if we’re confident they’d be a match for us.”
“Yes, I think I can do that. My babysitter will be here then. So, what’s their story? You mentioned a bartender and a chef.”
I filled Liz in on the details.
When her toddler, Gabe, started crying, Liz said, “Let me know what time Angie has free, and I’ll work something out. Thanks, Mom. I appreciate having the opportunity to do something creative for the hotel.”
“I know, darling,” I said, hearing the weariness in Liz’s voice. “Let’s do lunch soon.”
We ended the call, and I sat back in my chair to listen as Rhonda completed her call with Angela.
“Angie said she’ll work out a time with Liz. She loved the idea of hiring a young person to handle early evening bar service.” Rhonda sighed. “She also told me that Sally Kate has been diagnosed with dyslexia. She’s having trouble reading.”
“I imagine it’s both a worry and a help that she’s been classified as dyslexic,” I said.
“Sally is a sweet child who has been suffering under the impression that she’s stupid,” sighed Rhonda. “Angela is determined to see that Sally Kate understands why she’s been having difficulties, that it has nothing to do with ability.”
“It’s so important,” I said. “Kids today have a hard enough time socially without any additional issues to deal with.”
“Yes, it hurts me to think she’s been teased,” said Rhonda. “Of my three grandchildren, she’s the most sensitive.”
Though Rhonda and I were known for owning and running a successful hotel, we were, and always would be, mothers and grandmothers.
“I’ve got to get home,” said Rhonda. “I’ll make some calls to people I know and see what l can find out about Chet Waring.”
“And I’ll check on Jonny Arno’s background and work history. No matter what happens with Chet and Harper, we’re going to have to deal with him. And with Brock involved, even on the periphery, it’s bound to mean trouble.”
###
I left the hotel shortly after Rhonda and headed home.
My husband, Vaughn Sanders, was a well-known actor who was away filming a movie.
He came home as often as he could, but he still had a few more weeks before the movie would be wrapped.
This was a period when I could accomplish a significant amount of work for the hotel. Tonight would be no exception.
When I walked into our house, our Dachshund, Cindy, greeted me with wiggles and a doggy grin. She certainly couldn’t equal a greeting from Vaughn, but with him gone, I’d take it. I lifted her into my arms. She kissed my cheek and nestled against me while I crooned sweet sayings to her.
I set her down on the floor and went to find Robbie. At fourteen, he was growing fast. Most days, he stayed late at school for swim team practice.
I found him sprawled on his bed listening to music on his headphones. He noticed me and sat up. He was the son of my ex and the woman he divorced me for. Robbie had become our child twelve years ago when we adopted him after both his parents were killed in an automobile accident.
Seeing him like this, smiling like my ex, Robert, I was reminded how lucky we were to have him. He was a bright, nice young man who’d been a spoiled two-year-old when he came to live with us. He removed his headphones. “Hi.”
“How do you like high school so far?” I asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Are you enjoying the swim team? The classes?” A typical boy, he wasn’t too forthcoming about his activities. I’d learned to ask open-ended questions.
“They’re fine,” he said. “Swim team is about the same. Just tougher competition.” He flexed his muscles. “I think I’m growing stronger.”
I laughed and gave him a quick hug. “Yes, I think you are.” I kept my voice light but inside, I felt a stab of regret that time was going by so quickly. Before we knew it, Robbie would be an adult and away at college.
“Hungry?” I asked him. “I thought we’d grill some chicken tonight. Sound okay?”
“Yes, I’m starving,” said Robbie. “When’s Dad coming home?”
“Not for another couple of weeks. And then he’ll be around for a while,” I said, already anticipating that time. For all the fame he had achieved in his career, Vaughn loved being at home with us.
“How’s the homework situation?” I asked.
“Done,” said Robbie, smiling. If a swim team member had failing grades, they were kicked off the team. That rule alone was much more effective than any nagging parent.
“Okay, I’ll leave you to your music,” I said, rising.
“Thanks, Mom,” said Robbie. “Brett and I decided we’d go to the Freshman dance after all. Okay?”
“Yes,” I said, surprised. A few short months ago, Robbie wouldn’t have ever agreed to go. But he’d started receiving phone calls from girls, making me wonder which girl had caught his eye. “Are you going alone?”
Robbie grinned at me. “Yep.”
I smiled to myself. Maybe later I’d get more details.
###
That night, after doing the dishes, I sat down at my desk in my home office and did an online search on Jonny Arno. He was described as being in his early fifties, a native of Buffalo, New York. He’d studied in Europe at several restaurants, training under a well-known chef in Lyon, France.
I read through another bio of him. He was not married, had no children, and had won several awards for his restaurant in Miami called Chez Michel.
Although his bio was impressive, the comments made by some people on a certain social site were not.
As Chet and Harper had indicated, Jonny was known for being abusive and difficult to work with.
I turned to reviews of his latest cookbook. So many five stars.
After buying an online copy, I read through some of the recipes.
As Rhonda had indicated, it would be very difficult to prove that Jonny had stolen some of the recipes from Chet.
I realized it had taken a lot of guts for Chet to confront the well-known chef.
Even after briefly meeting the young man, I didn’t think his claims were about the money.
Tomorrow, I’d have a better opportunity to verify that.
I went to check on Robbie, put Cindy outside, and after she came in, I headed to bed.
Slipping under the light blanket, I reached for my ringing cell on the bedside table. Noticing Vaughn’s smiling face on the screen, I curled my toes. He still had that effect on me.
“Hey, babe,” he said in a sexy drawl I knew was meant to amuse me.
“Hi, sweetheart! How are you?” When we’d first dated, it took me a while to separate the television screen smile and his lines from soap-opera scenes from the true, more intimate ones he gave me.
“I miss you,” Vaughn said. “I thought we’d get through this filming sooner, but my co-star is always late and doesn’t always know her lines. It’s very frustrating. I want to be home with you and the family. I heard from Nell. She and Clint are planning to come for Thanksgiving.”
“Yes, I spoke to her as well. I can’t wait to see them.
I’m still hoping they’ll relocate to Florida.
” I loved Vaughn’s daughter, Nell, like my own.
She’d always been a big supporter of mine when Vaughn was still recovering from the death of his wife and wasn’t sure about marrying again.
Ty, Vaughn’s son, lived in San Francisco with his wife and family.
And though we didn’t see him as often as we’d like, we kept in touch.
“What’s going on there? Any new suspense at the hotel?” Vaughn teased.
“As a matter of fact, you won’t believe what’s happening. Brock Goodwin has invested in a new restaurant up the beach from the hotel, and he’s claiming it will take a lot of business away from The Beach House Hotel. But the chef, Jonny Arno, is someone who doesn’t have a great reputation.”
“Brock Goodwin is an ass who just loves to torment you and Rhonda. How can he win this time? Jean-Luc’s cooking is known throughout Southwest Florida.”
“Here’s the twist. A young chef who has been blackballed from working in Miami by Jonny Arno is interested in working for us. Rhonda and I are interviewing him tomorrow. Liz and Angie may hire his girlfriend as a bartender to help expand bar activity with a younger crowd.”
“Ah, now that’s sounding more like intrigue at the hotel. Vice-President Amelia Swanson isn’t involved, is she?”
Chuckling, I said, “So far, she’s out of the picture except for continuing to promote the hotel.”
“She’s put you and Rhonda in danger before. Let’s keep her out of this. Okay?”
“I’ll try, but we never know when Amelia might need our help,” I said, loving the protective tone in his voice.
We talked about Robbie and the swim team and a range of topics and then Vaughn said, “I can’t wait to hold you in my arms again. I promise I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
“Love you,” I said, thinking how empty the bed was without him.