A Dash of Love. Liz Isaacson

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      He’d been watching her, but now he dropped his gaze to the bar. A quick half-laugh left his lips. “What was it about it that you didn’t like?”

      She stared at the bowl of offending cassoulet. “It was just a little bland. I think it needed something. I don’t know.”

      Though he had used the exact same word—bland—to describe the cassoulet, his pride was taking a serious hit here.

      He picked up his glass and swirled his wine. “Good to know.” He took a sip, wishing his emotions weren’t quite so at war with each other. Would he have liked her more if she’d enjoyed a cassoulet he knew was inferior? He should be grateful she seemed to possess a discerning palette. It wasn’t like she’d tasted and then critiqued his recipe.

      She turned back to him, leaned in, and whispered, “You know, frankly, I’m a little surprised.”

      Paul was, too. Holly had been slipping for months, and he didn’t know why. He set his wine glass on the counter and worked hard to school his features before he looked at her. “It was that bad?”

      “No, it’s just…” Her denial came quickly, and she considered the bowl of food again. She scrunched up her lips in a cute way that Paul wished he didn’t find quite so attractive. “It could’ve used something to…pizzazz it up, you know? It just wasn’t—it didn’t really have that ‘wow factor’ that I was expecting.”

      Paul nodded though he wasn’t sure what she meant. “The ‘wow factor.’” He couldn’t help the twinge of annoyance in his chest, though her assessment of the cassoulet was spot-on.

      The woman nodded, a little too emphatically, in his opinion. “You know, Holly probably just needs a new executive chef or something. That’s what I’m thinking.” She gave him a wide-eyed look like her word would become law.

      Paul gave a single nod in slow motion. A smile came to his lips, but it wasn’t exactly happy—more like he was trying to figure out what she’d just said and why it felt like she’d stabbed him in the heart with a fork. All four tines of a fork.

      “Sounds like you eat out a lot,” he said, his voice miraculously even.

      She obviously mistook his smile for friendliness. “No, no. I—I, uh, just know a lot about food.” She didn’t seem bothered by what she’d said, and of course, she had no idea who she’d said it to. She grinned at him, and his frustration edged up a notch because he actually found her honesty and innocence so attractive.

      “Of course you do. Because…you eat food.” The smile on his face felt manic, stretched too far. “Everyone’s a food critic these days.” He laughed a couple of times and wanted to drown this day in his glass of red wine.

      “Oh no. I’m not a food critic. Actually, a lot of people think that I am. I was at the grocery store last week...” She trailed off, for which Paul was grateful.

      He struggled to hide his exhaustion and his irritation with Holly, and he couldn’t camouflage his feelings for much longer. When she asked, “I’m sorry, did I say something to upset you?” he knew he hadn’t hidden them well at all.

      He exhaled, the tension leaving his shoulders. What would telling her who he was accomplish? Nothing. She didn’t seem like Holly, and maybe she would listen to him, but after the day he’d already had, he decided revealing who he was—the very executive chef she’d just suggested firing—wasn’t worth the conversation.

      So she was pretty. She had a good air about her. She knew food. But she also thought he should be replaced, and though he’d never feared for his job here, he suddenly did.

      “No,” he finally said in response to her question. “No, I just, uh, I just got some bad news tonight.” He couldn’t find a reason to make her feel embarrassed that she’d insulted him.

      “Oh, sorry.” She seemed genuine, too, even if she turned back to her pathetic bowl of cassoulet a moment later. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I’m sure your news isn’t as bad as the feedback they’re getting on this cassoulet.” She gave him a flirtatious smile, and Paul had no other choice but to laugh.

      She giggled with him, longer and with more volume. He needed to get out of there. Even though he agreed with her and wanted to change the recipe, his defenses still battled with what she’d said. After all, she’d just bashed his cooking.

      Not my recipe, though.

      He eased away from the bar while her laughter still rang in his ears. “Have a good night.” He made it to the exit before he turned back to look at her. She slouched against the barstool, clearly a bit flummoxed as to what had just happened.

      Paul wasn’t, though. Her opinion of the cassoulet was his, too. And he needed to do something about it.

      Nikki wished Angela had told her to come at eleven o’clock instead of ten. Customers lingered, and while she usually left when a restaurant closed, the possibility of meeting Holly still dangled on the horizon, an opportunity she couldn’t pass up.

      Angela disappeared into the kitchen and didn’t return. Nikki wasn’t sure how long she was supposed to wait, and she waved off more wine from Jerrod. Her gaze landed on the vacant seat next to her where that man had sat.

      She’d definitely said something to upset him, and regret stole through her. What if what she’d said about the cassoulet got back to Angela, or worse, Holly Hanson herself?

      Nikki shouldn’t have mentioned anything. Her and her babbling mouth. For once, she’d like her flapping lips to get her something good instead of landing her in trouble.

      She thought about the man and his perfectly symmetrical face, his bright blue eyes, and his close-cut hair. He was handsome and tall, and Nikki regretted complaining about the food all over again. Just her luck that he’d probably enjoyed the cassoulet…if that was even possible.

      She glanced up, realizing that Jerrod had taken her glass and left the bar. In fact, she was the only one remaining in the restaurant. I should go, she thought, her stomach quivering the tiniest bit. Not gonna meet Holly tonight.

      She’d twisted to reach for her coat when she heard someone say, “We can just talk in here.”

      Nikki turned, everything inside her freezing when she saw the tall, beautiful, and glamorous Holly Hanson walking along the opposite wall and entering the dining room. A wall hid Nikki, still sitting at the bar, but the dining room wasn’t soundproof.

      A man came with Holly, well dressed with dark hair and a somewhat disgusted look on his face. “If you’re afraid that I’m gonna see what your office looks like, it’s a little late, Holly. I’ve already seen it.” He definitely didn’t sound happy, and Nikki wished she could make herself invisible and get out of the restaurant.

      “Oh, I just have to catch up on some of that paperwork.” Holly tacked on a laugh that sounded a bit on the nervous side.

      “There’s a pile of paperwork in your office that looks like Mount Everest. What happened to your assistant?” The voices came from directly behind Nikki, so she couldn’t see them, but the annoyance in the man’s voice wasn’t hard to СКАЧАТЬ