19. Chloe
nineteen
Icross my arms on my chest to keep myself from jumping Justin after he’s roamed his hands all over me. “I’m fine.” I swallow with difficulty. Why is he here? Not complaining about him saving me from crazy Samuel, though. The guy was scary. He refused to meet in my office, so I brought the topic of menu costing to the kitchen, asking him, kindly I might add, when the eff I was going to get that breakdown?
I didn’t use the eff word. Only in my mind and very quietly.
Before you know it, I was shoved inside the refrigerator, but worse than last time. He didn’t waste time, started yelling in my face right away, cornering me, trying to scare me so that—what? I let him go on without doing his work?
If only I could have had more control over myself. But I got dizzy, I couldn’t breathe, and he took it as a sign of weakness. A sign he won our argument. In one last-ditch effort, I yelled back at him, and that’s when the door flew open, Samuel disappeared from my sight, and Justin finished him with the knockout for the records.
And then he checked me everywhere to make sure I wasn’t hurt.
Oh god.
God!
So good I almost died.
So good I almost forget I hate him now, just like he hates me.
Luckily, I remember before I do something stupid like lace my hands behind his nape and fist his hair and rub my needy body against his muscular body and kiss him thank you.
I tell him I’m fine so he stops touching me, at the same time wishing he would see straight through my lie. Wishing he’d cradle me in his arms. Wishing he’d take care of me like he did in the elevator.
But that will never happen, and not only because he’s a rude asshole who only wants his rent. No, that won’t happen because he said in Boston that he doesn’t want a relationship or a girlfriend. He doesn’t even want the flavor of the night to know his name!
So why is he here?
“There’s a meeting… on The Green,” he says.
I blink outside the window. There’s a group assembled around Cassandra.
“Oh, right.” The events meeting for the fair. I tug at my T-shirt and run my fingers through my hair to smooth it, struggling to keep my eyes off Justin.
Breathe in, breathe out.Justin’s scent hits me like a painful memory.
I straighten my shoulders and walk out without making a fool of myself.
“Chloe, you made it!” Cassandra beams. “Let me summarize things for you and Justin. This year we’re shaking things up. We’re teaming you up. Easy Monday will be paired with The Wright Bakeryto create snackables with a Vermont flair. The King Farm will work with Kiara for an ice cream and dessert stand. And The Lazy Salamander and Kevin’s Fine Dining will be working together to create a signature dish that blends comfort food and creativity.” She takes a deep breath, her eyes darting between the two of us.
“Justin, can I count on Shane for that?”
“Absolutely,” Justin answers, so close to me his deep voice does illegal things to my panties. Remember: we hate him! I chastise my body.
“Chloe, can we count on Samuel to work with Shane on this creation?”
Not over my dead body. I don’t even know if I’ll still have a chef tomorrow. Or tonight. “I’ll work with Shane,” I answer, my voice showing way more confidence than I feel.
A few faces turn my way. Cassandra is beaming. “Excellent! Duly noted.” She scribbles something in a ring binder. “You and Shane will get back to me in the next few days to update me. I’ll need the name of the dish, a brief description, and pricing. Feel free to create more than one dish.”
“Strike that, Cass,” Justin cuts.
More heads turn our way.
“I’ll be working with Clov-Chloe.”
Cassandra tilts her head. “How nice! I love it. Also heads up, you’ll also both be assigned to a common booth at the fair. Next up, ticket sales! We need twelve volunteers…”
My ears buzz. My head is spinning. My heartbeat increases and my palms are sweaty.
Yet I’m in the middle of a park, in the heart of a small village, under a great, open sky.
I’m going to be working with Justin.
How did that happen?
“Give me your phone,” Justin says.
I snap my head up. His sparkling green eyes are trained on me, his blond curls form like a halo, and I know exactly how good his mouth feels, yet my gut clenches.
“What?” I say on an exhale.
“Your phone.”
Is he crazy?
“I just want to put my number in it.” My throat tightens and my thighs clench. Does he not realize how inappropriately sexy his suggestion is?
I square my shoulders. “That’s not necessary.”
He dips his head. “Right. Do you want to set a meeting now?”
“Nope. That meeting can be an email. No point wasting each other’s time.”
He kicks the grass with the tip of his boot. “Gotcha.” Then he spins around and walks to Lazy’s, ass molded in his faded jeans, shoulders rolling under his white shirt, his ink showing on his tan forearm.
God. What am I going to do now?
To: Justin King
From: Chloe Sullivan
Subject: Dish collab
Dear Mr. King,
Following up on the request from the Chamber of Commerce, I’d like to suggest a brown butter lobster roll, served with a side of sweet potato fries with maple bacon aioli.
I look forward to reading your thoughts.
Sincerely,
Chloe Sullivan
To: Chloe Sullivan
From: Justin King
Subject: Definition
Dear Clover,
Collaboration: “the action of working with someone to produce or create something.” (Oxford English Dictionary)
Yours,
Justin
To: Justin King
From: Chloe Sullivan
Subject: Rethinking this whole collab
Mr. King,
I will be informing Cassandra that I am delegating my chef to collaborate on this project with you.
Sincerely,
Chloe Sullivan
To: Chloe Sullivan
From: Justin King
Subject: Fate
Dear Clover,
The fate of poor Samuel is in your hands. His ego will not survive working with me.
Yours,
Justin
To: Justin King
From: Chloe Sullivan
Subject: Egos
Mr. King,
Your ego is on par with Samuel’s, and this town could use a cleanse. I look forward to seeing both my problems obliterate each other.
Sincerely,
Chloe Sullivan
Hmm. No answer. Fantastic! I’ll email Cassandra in the morning. Or the next day. I still need to tell Samuel.
Ohmygod, how am I going to tell Samuel?
Maybe I could delegate Corine instead of Samuel?
Nope. I can’t do that to her.
Or could I?
I poke my head in the kitchen. Samuel might have gone to urgent care. I don’t want to know. “Corine?” I ask softly, in case the bear is still there.
“Yes, m’a—Chloe?”
“Come here a sec.” I close my office door behind her. She stands like a good little soldier, hands clasped behind her back, feet hip distance apart. “How would you like to work with Justin on a project?”
“Justin? As in, the owner of…?”
My thumb indicates the wall behind me that separates the restaurant from the pub. “That Justin.” I explain to her what Cassandra wants. A collaboration.
“Why me?” she asks.
“I know, I know, it’s a lot to ask. I didn’t want to ask that of you, at first. It’s… I can’t have Samuel do it, obviously.”
“Obviously.”
“And I volunteered—to work on the dish… with Shane. But… there’s been a change, and Justin stepped in, and I… I just can’t.”
“Oh—but that’d be great!” She beams.
No! No. It’s the opposite of great. “Why don’t you want to do it? It’s an opportunity for you to create something.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“You don’t like him? He’s mean?” I knew it. He’s mean. I need to get him out of my system. A major reboot. Boston was an illusion.
Red spreads from her forehead to her chest. “Oh gosh no. Justin is… he’s…” She bites her lip.
Is she crushing on him? She’s totally crushing. That’s good, right? “He’s what?”
Corine clears her throat. “It’s just that, Shane used to be our chef, and then he left to work for Justin, and so… I’m just concerned about rumors and such.”
I remember Aunt Dawn saying something to that effect. “Justin poached Shane from us?”
She tilts her head and moves her mouth around, in a ‘it’s more complicated than that’ expression.
“Alright, whatever. I don’t care what people think. You’re not going to leave, are you?” I ask.
“Can I be honest?”
Shit. “Sure, of course.” She’s going to tell me she’s leaving. I wouldn’t blame her. I wouldn’t want to work for effing Samuel.
“I think you should go for it,” she says.
“For what?”
“The way he pulled you out of the walk-in?” She fans herself. “If I were you, I’d give anything to be working with him.”
“That’s—I just asked you to do that. As a favor for me.”
“But I’m not you.”
Okay, totally confused here. “Do you want to work with Justin or not on creating a dish for our town, gossip be damned?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because.” Her face crunches like that of a stubborn child.
I rub my eyes.
“Because he cares for you, and you should give him a chance. I know he said mean things to you, really mean things, and he should pay for that, but how is he ever going to be able to make it up to you if you keep pushing him away?”
Why is my sous-chef so informed about my would-be romantic life? “Where is this all coming from? It can’t be on Echoes!”
Full blush again. Her hands twist nervously in her apron now. “I really should get back. It’s getting late, and I’m not sure Chef will make it back on time tonight.”
“Right.” The poor girl is going to take over service tonight, and I’m bothering her with my silly nonsense. “You’ll do fine. I’ll tell Shoshana to turn walk-ins away tonight.”
She’s already half gone but she turns around. “I can handle… a certain number. I know we need to reach our goals.”
Thank god for Corine. “I’ll check in on you throughout the evening. I want you to let me know before it gets too much. And Corine? Do you go to these Game Nights? I hear there’s one tomorrow.”
Her face lights up. “I’m always pumped up after dinner service, and Mom has Theo, so yes, I always go. I catch the end of it, and it’s the most fun. The older ladies are tipsy by that time, and they always have the funniest stories. You should come!”
I beam my first big smile of the day. “I will.”