Chapter 5 #2
“Oh, don’t you worry about my Sebastian,” Nonna told her while I silently glowered. “His bark is much worse than his bite.”
“I can handle myself, Nonna,” I reminded her in a gentle voice, though it was Claudia whose gaze I sought and held when her bright, blue eyes locked onto mine at last. “No need to speak for me like I’m not here.”
“Nobody could ever make the mistake of forgetting you’re here,” Claudia assured me with a sickeningly sweet smile. “You are the owner, after all.”
She would do well to remember that, smarting off in front of my family.
Claudia’s jaw twitched, her gaze lingered a beat, and then she turned her attention back to my grandmother.
“I’ll keep your advice in mind, though I might get a rabies shot in advance, just to be on the safe side.
” They shared another laugh while I finished what was left of the merlot in my glass. Fast friends already. How nice.
Once she was finished kissing Nonna’s ass, Claudia looked over the length of the table, pointedly avoiding my gaze this time.
“So, I did something a little different tonight. A slight variation on a seasonal dessert recipe. I hope you don’t mind, but I figured if there’s anyone I would want to sample this, it would be all of you. ”
No. She fucking. Didn’t.
“Oh, I can’t wait!” Maddie barely stopped short of bouncing out of her chair. “A new Claudia Granger recipe just for us?”
“Not a new recipe,” Claudia gently corrected while I questioned my hearing because this certainly wasn’t unfolding the way it seemed.
“What is it, then?” I asked, forcing her to look at me again. “Because it sounds a lot like a new recipe if you altered it somehow.”
“It’s a riff,” she replied with that sunny, photogenic smile that twisted my guts. “I’ll let you see for yourselves.”
She glanced toward the kitchen door and crooked a finger to signal two servers who emerged carrying trays laden with plated tarts.
“I understand the apple tart is based upon your apple pie,” Claudia explained to Nonna as the tarts were placed before us.
“I’ve added a couple of elements. I hope you enjoy it.
If you don’t, that’s totally fine. I promise you won’t hurt my feelings,” she added with a soft laugh.
“It smells amazing,” Maddie gushed, picking up her spoon and digging in without hesitation. I waited along with the rest of the family, watching her insert the spoon into her mouth without asking what had been added to the dish. She was that trusting.
Her eyes closed, her body sagged, and I knew what was coming.
“Oh my God. What did you do? It’s heaven,” she sighed.
The words were barely out of her mouth before she went for a second bite, at which point everyone began tasting for themselves.
I took my time, gauging their reactions first, watching as, one by one, they adopted an expression every cook looked for—complete bliss.
“Oh, it’s wonderful!” Mom declared. “There’s a sort of…
nuttiness? I can’t put my finger on it.” Her question inspired me to take a bite of what I wished didn’t taste so damn balanced and rich.
Was it good news for the restaurant? Sure, but she went over my head to make it happen.
The sweet fruit soured in my mouth at the thought.
“Browned butter,” Claudia explained, clearly pleased with herself. “With some shredded gruyere cheese in the crust, the addition of pears along with the apples, and a bit of br?léed finishing sugar. Then, of course, homemade cinnamon ice cream.”
“Browned butter.” Nonna smiled up at her, and envy twisted itself around my heart like barbed wire, digging in, drawing blood. “Why did I never think of that? It’s delicious,” she announced, taking one of Claudia’s hands and squeezing.
“You really think so?” Was that a tremor in her voice? Was it authentic? “I can’t tell you what an honor it is to hear you say that.”
“I am honored you improved upon my recipe,” Nonna insisted.
It was a real love fest, in other words, while all I could do was barely hold myself to a simmer as my family lost their mind over a little cheese and butter.
I was not a man accustomed to sitting back and accepting shit, yet there was no choice now.
Not unless I wanted to come off as a complete asshole in front of people who mattered.
“Truly, adding a new touch to a beloved recipe is one of the things I love most about what I do.” With one last look over the table and an obvious beat during which our eyes locked for longer than necessary, Claudia concluded, “I’m so glad you’re all happy.
And I look forward to seeing you all again. ”
“I can’t wait to try anything you make,” Maddie assured her, making everyone laugh except me.
The most I could manage was a grimace that left my jaw aching.
That ache persisted throughout my goodbyes with the family, who asked if they could come back next week.
I mumbled a thin excuse about the restaurant being booked solid and the amount of work that would soon go into opening my new location.
Neither was a lie, but neither was sincere.
The truth? I couldn’t stomach the thought of sitting through another ass-kissing session.
Although I took my time with the hugs and whatnot, my anger hadn’t cooled by the time I strode from the front vestibule, where I’d waved goodbye to my parents as they drove past, into the kitchen. Heads turned at my entrance. There was only one I was interested in.
It had to be instinct that held my mouth shut. The fire blazing in my gut urged me, pulled me through the room, and demanded satisfaction. Nobody got away with putting me on the spot.
A pair of blue eyes followed my every step, but I ignored Claudia’s pointed stare in favor of retreating to my office. The closed door did nothing to make me forget she was out there, considering herself God’s gift to bakers by browning some fucking butter.
It took inserting AirPods in my ears and digging into a pile of invoices for the new restaurant to get me through the following hours.
The girl might not have known it, but the only reason she was alive right now was because I’d stepped back from being head chef, giving me the chance to retreat to a locked room rather than being face-to-face behind the line.
I might have had no choice but to request she leave for the night. Loudly.
By the time I’d sorted the invoices and reviewed updated timelines for completion, my playlist had run its course.
I slid one of the pods from my ear, listening for sounds beyond the closed door.
The kitchen was mostly quiet an hour after service had ended.
No doubt anyone who’d left before now thought twice about knocking to say goodnight.
Maybe they had, and I’d missed it. Either way, it was for the best.
If Claudia possessed half a brain, she would’ve made a quick exit for fear of my wrath. Sadly, she didn’t have the sense—either that or she’d waited on purpose—determined to test my self-control.
Only she and Lucas were left, chatting quietly by the ovens. He took a backward step away from her, like a guilty man. Fresh fire bloomed in my chest before I could help it. “Anything wrong?” I asked him.
He shook his head, lifting a thick shoulder.
The guy would have looked right at home at the front door of a busy club, standing a head taller than most of the customers, ready to toss troublemakers out on their asses.
Right now, his tanned complexion went a little pale.
“Nope. Have a good one.” That didn’t keep him from glancing toward Claudia one last time, then quickly exiting through the back door.
Leaving the two of us. I’d let her take the first shot to see what she thought she was working with before eviscerating her for going behind my back.
Her tongue darted over her lips before she ventured, “Your family seems very nice. Your nonna is lovely.”
“They are,” I grunted, remembering how they’d bonded by joking about me. My anger began to simmer, verging on a boil. “She is.”
Her soft, sharp sigh revealed her frustration. “Just get it over with, okay? I know you’ve been waiting.”
“You’re lucky I’ve been waiting. I could’ve done this while the rest of the staff was present.” The pressure in my chest spread, tightening my throat, putting my head in a vice. “Now that we’re alone, I want you to tell me where the fuck you get off putting me on the spot.”
She scoffed. “Because it’s all about you. It wasn’t about me wanting to—”
“Enough!” The volume of my voice made her shrink back, eyes bulging. “I don’t want to hear it. You chose tonight to present that new… what did you call it? A riff? Because you knew you could get away with it in front of them.”
“Did you bother tasting it?” she snapped, her volume reaching mine. I liked it, perversely enough, knowing she had fire in her. It added color to her cheeks and left her chest heaving with every quick breath. I didn’t realize I was staring until my dick twitched, forcing me to get my shit together.
“I did, which you’d know if you weren’t so busy basking in adulation.”
“Oh! Forgive me!” She touched a hand to her chest, drawing my gaze again. Dammit. “Was I soaking in the appreciation and praise of people whose opinion matters? I can see now why you’re so bitter. You’re dead set on hating me and everything I do.”
That wasn’t true. Was it? “Do not put words in my mouth,” I warned, taking a step closer the way a moth floated close to a flame that might kill it. There was no resisting the pull she had on me and how it intensified when things heated up between us.
She instantly pulled back, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath as I stood close. “Oh, please,” she scoffed. “A child could see straight through you. Quit the gaslighting.”
I was going to fire her. There was no other way around it. No way I could coexist with this woman without blood being shed. “I expressly requested—”
“You requested nothing. You ordered,” she spat.
“You bullied. You did not request. And I am sorry…” she continued, biting off her words through clenched teeth, “… but I will not stifle myself creatively because you’re too afraid to take a few chances in this kitchen.
You wonder why your brand is on the decline?
Why don’t you take a look at how stale and repetitive your menu is? ”
With a bitter laugh, I asked, “You haven’t been here a full week, and I’m supposed to take your opinion seriously?”
“I know what I’m talking about.”
“Oh right.” I snapped my fingers, chuckling. “I forgot. You’re an expert. Somebody put you on TV, and you know everything there is about building a brand and maintaining it for years.”
Her face darkened, and her eyes blazed like the fire crisping my insides. “You know something? If someone was trying to sabotage you, I can understand why.”
Motherfucker. I sucked in a breath, reeling inside but unwilling to reveal it. She knew how to hit below the belt. There was crossing the line, and there was dancing her way over it. The girl had full-on waltzed.
She knew it, too, falling back a step, even gasping softly like she couldn’t believe herself. “I’m… I shouldn’t—”
Slicing my hand through the air, I cut her off. “I’m not interested in hearing whatever it is you’re trying to say. You’ve already said more than enough.” I struggled to contain myself as it was, fighting against revealing how deeply those words sliced through my core.
Her throat worked. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “For what I said. Not for the tart, though.”
The stubborn little thing. I didn’t know whether to laugh or scream as she stood at her full height, which wasn’t saying much, and glared up at me in defiance. She had heart, grit, and I would have appreciated both in anyone but her.
Her perfume hit me before I even realized I’d been leaning in, and I had to shake myself back to reality.
“Do us both a favor and get out of my sight,” I muttered because there was no winning this fight.
No firing her without coming off like a whiny bitch.
No stopping her from experimenting since she knew she had me by the balls now.
My family loved her almost as much as they loved her baking.
It was a good thing she did as I asked for once.
I might have done something I couldn’t undo.