A Dash of Love. Liz Isaacson

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ can I get you?”

      “Glass of red wine, please.”

      “House, or would you like to see the wine list?”

      “Uh—”

      Angela appeared in the empty seat next to Nikki, her flirtatious smile set on high. “Maybe you could pick out something special for her from the list? This is my best friend, Nikki.”

      Nikki raised her hand in a friendly wave, but she didn’t look away from Angela. She hadn’t seen her friend this enamored with a man in…well, ever.

      “Nikki, this is Jerrod.”

      “Hi.”

      “Nice to meet you.”

      “Same.”

      Jerrod ducked his head in an adorable way and moved down the bar to get Nikki’s drink. She turned toward Angela, her curiosity spilling over. “How come you’ve never mentioned him before?”

      Angela watched him work. “Oh, because there’s no future there.” She shook her head and met Nikki’s eyes.

      “He has a girlfriend or something?”

      “No.” She lifted one shoulder in a baby shrug. “But apparently, Holly frowns upon her employees dating.”

      Nikki scoffed and laughed. Though Holly could do no wrong in the kitchen, that policy seemed pretty ridiculous. If something like that had happened where her mother had worked, she wouldn’t have met Nikki’s father. She watched Angela go back out onto the floor to drop off a ticket, put on her smile, and get back to work.

      Her mind drifted to little old Cedar Hills, a few hours south of Lakeside. Her mother had been a waitress at a quaint diner, and she’d met Nikki’s dad as he came to the restaurant with their supply of produce. They’d fallen in love, and the rest was history.

      Nikki sighed. She wished all romances were so easy, but the fact that she still hadn’t met Mr. Right certainly testified otherwise.

      Jerrod returned, bearing a lot more than a wine glass. “Here you are. Enjoy.” He placed a red casserole dish in front of her with a roll of silverware inside a black napkin.

      Nikki glanced at the food. “Uh, a cassoulet?”

      “Tonight’s special. On the house.” He grinned at her.

      “Wow, thanks.”

      He moved away, leaving her to experience the food with her eyes and nose first. After unwrapping her napkin, she placed it in her lap, eager to taste Holly’s recipe. Nikki picked up her fork and fixed a delicate bite of pork and beans. She lifted the utensil to her nose and sniffed.

      The smell of salty pork with a hint of garlic made her eyes roll back in her head. It wasn’t every day that she got to eat at such a high-end restaurant.

      She put the food in her mouth, and her eyes snapped open. The smile left her face, and she glanced around, almost embarrassed, to check if anyone had seen her reaction. No one seemed to be paying her any attention, and Jerrod lingered at the opposite end of the bar.

      Glancing down at the cassoulet, Nikki couldn’t believe it had tasted so…bland. It wasn’t good. It wasn’t bad. It was like nothing, which in her opinion, was so much worse. At least bad food tasted like something.

      She put her fork down, utterly disappointed. She hoped when she came face-to-face with the celebrity chef that Angela wouldn’t be right about her being a diva.

      But no matter what, she couldn’t take another bite of that cassoulet. She lifted her wine glass to her lips to wash down the little bit she’d consumed.

Chapter Four

      Paul asked his sous chefs to get the kitchen cleaned and everything put away for the night. His frustration had only grown as the hours had passed, and he needed a break from this business. He’d known how rough it could be going in—he’d worked at the bakery with his father long enough to experience that. The day started early at the bakery, but it ended well past midnight for Paul.

      It seemed that he and his father were always on opposite ends of the spectrum.

      He changed out of his chef’s jacket and pulled a long-sleeved shirt over his head. He didn’t want to eat at Holly’s, but a drink sounded great. After a day like today, he deserved it.

      He walked through the restaurant and the few lingering customers to the bar, where a seat remained at the end beside a pretty auburn-haired woman wearing a frilly pink top.

      Jerrod caught sight of him and waved. Paul liked the bartender, and they’d started spending some time together outside of work. Paul didn’t usually do that because he didn’t have time. And he didn’t want to be buddy-buddy with his sous chef or his pastry chef. It was very lonely as the executive chef, but Paul had never really minded until a few months ago.

      So when Jerrod had run into Paul at the rec center, they’d played basketball together. They’d started doing that more and more, and Paul could really use a friendly face tonight.

      “Hey,” Paul said as he eased his tired body onto the barstool.

      “What’s it tonight?”

      Paul smiled, though nothing about tonight warranted such an action. “Oh, something that pairs with frustration.”

      Jerrod gave him a knowing smile. “Got it.”

      The woman next to him smelled like strawberries, roses, and other red things. He tried not to look at her too quickly, but he turned that way anyway. He noticed her wide, innocent eyes in a peculiar shade of brown. They pulled at him and wouldn’t let go.

      Her hair shone with some dark notes, too, and he wondered what color it would be in natural light. She was dressed well, wore makeup, and that scent…

      He smiled at her, his eyes falling to the bar—where a bowl of cassoulet sat. His heart pumped out an extra beat, and he was suddenly anxious to know what she thought of it. “See you have the special. How was it?”

      The woman, who had been nodding and smiling, faced the bar again, her grin fading. “Uh…it was, uh. It was okay.” She turned toward him, her loose curls falling over her shoulder. The grin appeared, and it lit something in him that had been dormant for a while. “I just wasn’t that hungry.”

      She was also not that great at lying. “But you got to try it, at least, right?” He gestured toward it as if she hadn’t noticed the bowl in front of her. He watched her face for a reaction.

      “Mm-hm, yeah. I did.”

      And the bowl was still full. He couldn’t help himself. Maybe if he had some real customer feedback, Holly would listen. Or maybe he just liked the way this woman’s voice sounded and he wanted to keep talking to her. No matter what, he asked, “Did you like it?”

      “Oh, um.” Her voice was barely audible СКАЧАТЬ