Spicy (Palate #1) Read online

  “It’s getting windy out,” he observed. “We should go inside.”

  “We should,” I agreed.

  Neither of us made a move. Instead we just stood there in the shadows, the moonlight kissing our faces as it held us in its arms.

  Sadness swept over me, an emotion so sudden and unexpected that I didn’t quite know how to process it. It was a pity Gavin was who he was. He was gorgeous and ambitious and witty…but knowing what I knew, I’d never let myself fall for a man like him.

  I wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again. The brashness was gone from his voice. In fact, all traces of conceit had disappeared. I saw his eyes focus on my lips and he moved toward me. Was he going to kiss me?

  Sure, he acted concerned. It wasn’t all that surprising. That was how guys like Gavin got into unsuspecting women’s pants – and hearts. I’d found that out the hard way and learned a cruel lesson in the process. It wasn’t something I’d ever forget, nor was it something I cared to relive.

  I pulled back so abruptly I think I startled us both.

  “I’m fine,” I told him firmly as I deliberately turned away from him. I pulled the door leading to the kitchen open and over my shoulder, informed Gavin, “We really should get inside.” Then I re-entered the world of Palate, immersing myself once again in the glitz and glamor of The Gourmet Dining Experience.

  And just like that, the moment was gone.

  Chapter 05

  “What a jackass.”

  “Did you say something, ma’am?”

  I looked up from the tabloid I was idly flipping through at the supermarket checkout and saw the teenaged cashier looking at me curiously. I hadn’t meant to utter the words aloud but I had been so engrossed in what I was reading that I couldn’t help it.

  “Sorry…” I quickly closed the magazine and put it back where I’d found it. I didn’t want to read any more. I’d already seen more than enough.

  The tabloids on the rack were already outdated. And Gavin Rothe was on the front page of one of them. In the photo, he was standing on a yacht with two bikini clad bimbos on either side of him. He was pouring champagne straight from the bottle into one of the women’s mouths.

  It was clear from his body language that he knew he was being photographed, and he was obviously hamming it up for the camera. Yuck.

  The article was worse yet, claiming he’d been on a wild bender with scantily clad exotic dancers and plenty of booze to keep him company. He’d had so many celebrities aboard the yacht he’d rented that fans turned out in scores once they got wind of it. In the end, the entire marina had to be shut down on account of Gavin’s shenanigans. He, of course, had been completely unapologetic about it.

  It was downright obnoxious behavior, especially for a grown man who held himself out to be a professional. Who did he think he was, a rich, entitled frat boy?

  It annoyed me that I found Gavin Rothe so alluring. I didn’t want to be attracted to him. He wasn’t the type of guy a responsible young single mother should be interested in. He certainly wasn’t fit to be a role model for a small, impressionable child.

  He was like an overgrown, self-indulgent kid himself, except unlike my son, Gavin’s vices extended far beyond shoving crayons up his nose and flushing my earrings down the toilet. And he wasn’t two years old, either. He was old enough to know better.

  Maybe a part of me was secretly jealous. Sometimes I wished for the kind of freedom I’d once had – the kind Gavin still enjoyed on a regular basis. At night when I was trying to fall asleep, sometimes I’d think about what I’d do if I had Gavin’s lavish lifestyle. Oh, the things I’d do if I had unlimited funds and round the clock childcare at my disposal…

  The part that really confused me was all the different sides of Gavin I’d seen. He made me think of one of those carnival funhouses full of warped mirrors. Every one of them offers a different reflection – tall and thin, short and stout…by the time you leave you’re not quite sure what you saw or which image was real. Gavin was sort of like that and it made no sense.

  How could he be everything I’d seen and heard about? How could he be selfish and generous, arrogant and considerate, obnoxious and kind all at once? That was the conundrum. Everyone has different sides to some extent depending on who they’re with, but Gavin’s multiple personalities were extreme and had me baffled.

  And what did it say about me that I lusted after him despite it all?

  He was no good for me. He was every cliché in the book and yet after that moment we’d shared in the alley behind the restaurant, I wanted him more than I’d wanted anyone in a long, long time. The more I told myself to stop thinking about him that way, the more inappropriate thoughts crept into my consciousness.

  What would his lips feel like on mine? What would it be like to have him inside me? He talked a good game, but could he put his money where his mouth was? Maybe, I tried to tell myself, his arrogance was just overcompensation for what he lacked. But no matter how many times I attempted to convince myself he was probably lousy in the sack, I couldn’t.

  I had a feeling sex with Gavin would be mind-blowingly satisfying. His presence put me on edge, simultaneously enraging me and giving me butterflies. There was just something about the way he moved that made me think he’d be fantastic in bed. But of course, I’d never find out.

  But what I could try to find out was which side of Gavin was the real one.

  Amanda seemed to think he’d hung the moon and stars himself. Why did she have him on such a pedestal? Was it just a harmless crush on a good looking guy, or had he actually done things to warrant her devotion to him?

  I decided to make it my mission to find out.

  *****

  “This was a bad idea.”

  Truer words had never been uttered. A while after my trip to the supermarket, I stood in the kitchen of Palate watching as Joel ran around in circles. It was only a matter of time until he tripped someone, knocked something over or, heaven forbid, got too close to the hot stovetop.

  Why had I let Gavin talk me into bringing my son to work with me? How was I supposed to do my job and keep an eye on him at the same time? Talk about stupid. There was no way this was going to end well.

  “I’ll watch him in the VIP room,” Amanda offered from where she stood behind me. “No one has it booked tonight so we can use it as a playroom.”

  “I can’t ask you to babysit him.”

  For reasons I’d never quite figured out, I always found it difficult to accept help from people. Maybe it was because I’d spent so long doing everything on my own that relying on others was a foreign concept. I’d had to grow up in a hurry when I’d transitioned from a college student with a promising future to a single college dropout with a baby on the way.

  “You didn’t ask me to,” Amanda smiled. “I offered.”

  Though she was a sweet girl, I could tell she’d been in Gavin’s presence for a while. Those kind of semantics games reeked of him. But I kept the observation to myself, instead appreciatively telling her it would be great if she could watch him for a while. Instinctively, I knew I could trust her.

  “I don’t have any cash on me…”

  “I don’t want your money,” Amanda was quick to inform me. “I’m happy to help.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes!” she insisted. “Don’t worry; I grew up with little brothers. I know how to keep a two year old occupied. We’ll have fun! It beats sitting at home alone in an empty apartment. Sometimes the quiet just gets to me, you know?”

  “You shouldn’t have that problem with him,” I joked with a nod in my son’s direction. “He’s kind of in the midst of a very long and drawn out screaming stage.”

  “No problem, I can handle it.”

  “If it gets to be too much, you can try giving him some animal crackers,” I said as I rooted through my gigantic purse in search of the snack I’d packed. “Oh, and if they don’t w
ork, then you can give him this,” I instructed, pulling a bag out of my purse that contained Joel’s pacifier.

  Then I paused. “I bet I seem like a terrible mother. I know pretty much every expert says I shouldn’t be letting him have the pacifier at his age but it’s the only thing that works. Sometimes it’s just like…I’m desperate for five minutes of peace and quiet, you know? Ugh, that sounds awful.”

  “It doesn’t,” Amanda replied, taking the bag from me. “You’re a great mom. I can tell just by listening to the way you talk about him…you light up. Your whole life revolves around him.”

  That part was true; my whole life did revolve around my son. In fact, moving to Los Angeles was the first big thing I’d truly done for myself since his birth. But even that was influenced by him and the stable financial future I hoped to build for the two of us.

  Deeply touched by Amanda’s words, I looked away.

  “Mina?” she asked softly, looking concerned. “Did I say something wrong? Are you okay?”

  I felt incredibly silly for tearing up but I just couldn’t help it. Her words had caught me off guard and I guess after the stress of the move and competing on the reality show I was worn out and emotional. I nodded and swallowed the lump in my throat.

  “It’s just that no one ever tells me I do a good job,” I tried to explain, hating how pathetic that made me sound. “My parents are crazy-religious and look down on me for being an unmarried mother. My friends have all moved on with their lives and careers while it feels like I’ve been standing still for ages. And my son’s father,” I said with bitterness in my voice, “well…he’s not in the picture at all.”

  “I’m sorry,” Amanda said, putting her hand on my arm. “That can’t be easy.”

  Swiping my tears away with the back of my hand, I quickly regained my composure. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this,” I told her apologetically. “I’m not usually like this but I guess I haven’t had anyone to talk to in a long time.”

  Occasionally I’d call my friend Daniella back in Vermont, but her life was the polar opposite of mine. Everything was falling into place for her. Every time I heard her voice she sounded so damn happy that I hated to put a damper on it, so I kept our conversations cheerful and superficial.

  “It’s good to have someone to talk to. I haven’t had that in a while,” Amanda confessed, “so believe me, I understand. I got out of a long-term relationship not that long ago. I don’t really have friends anymore and it’s been lonely.”

  “Ah, was it one of those situations where all your friends side with him after the breakup?” I asked knowingly, grateful for a change of subject. “I hate when that happens. It seems so unfair, especially if the friends were yours to begin with.”

  “That’s not exactly what happened,” Amanda mumbled, suddenly seeming reluctant to open up. “I was in a bad situation…a really bad situation. When Gavin found out about it, he basically saved my life. I owe him everything.”

  “Oh…” I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Of course I had all sorts of questions I was just itching to ask, but I didn’t know if I should. Maybe it wasn’t my place. I didn’t want to be snoopy and though we were becoming fast friends, I didn’t want to overstep.

  Amanda cleared her throat and forced a bright, sunny smile. “Anyway,” she said with a glance in Joel’s direction, “I should get this little guy to the VIP room before he burns the kitchen down. Can you tell your mommy goodbye?” Amanda asked him, taking his hand. “We’re just going to go down the hall to play while she gets some work done here, okay?”

  My son looked up at me with the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. He’d gotten those babies from me. His chubby cherub cheeks were just made for kissing, not that he’d ever let me close enough for a cuddle. Since he’d turned two, he’d become a wild child, hell bent on causing destruction and wreaking havoc wherever he went. But maybe this time would be different…

  I crouched down to his level and opened my arms. “Can I have a hug, kiddo?” I asked hopefully. Maybe I was pushing my luck, but he was finally calm and quiet and just looked so damn angelic. I had to try.

  For a moment it seemed like he was actually considering it. He took a step closer to me, his pudgy little hand still gripping Amanda’s tightly. He looked right at me, smiled sweetly…and then jumped on me.

  “Oof!” I grunted as the wind was momentarily knocked out of me. Still crouching down, I stumbled backward and nearly fell. I only managed to catch him – and myself – at the last minute as he giggled like he’d just done the funniest thing on earth.

  So it wasn’t a hug, but it was something…sort of. I’d take what I could get.

  But when I stood back up, Amanda took one look at me and went pale. “Oh dear,” she gasped, quickly grabbing a wad of paper towels from the counter and offering them to me.

  I looked down. There was a dark stain all over the front of my pale blue dress. Confused, I reached down and captured Joel’s pudgy little hand so I could inspect it. His fingers were sticky with a dark, syrupy sauce.

  Perplexed, I murmured, “How did he…? We were watching him the whole time…”

  That kid was like a little magician when it came to making messes. He could get into trouble in the blink of an eye. I was relieved the sauce he’d managed to find hadn’t been hot. But it still made me feel like a shitty mother for not noticing what he was doing.

  How was it that a two year old managed to outsmart me on a semi-regular basis? Ugh.

  Purposefully, I picked Joel up, leaned him over the sink and washed his hands. He, of course, started howling. It figured that the kid who loved to get dirty had an aversion to baths and even hand washing. I sighed, set him down and tried in vain to soothe him as I dried his hands.

  “Can you get him out of here?” the bottle blonde server from the previous night demanded as she sashayed through the kitchen. She sneered at me disdainfully before pushing past me to grab a plate from the countertop.

  I’d learned that Amanda secretly referred to the two stuck up, fake breasted bottle blondes as Bitchy and Bitchier. But since Bitchier had quit, now we only had Bitchy to contend with. And that was more than enough, as far as I was concerned.

  “Come on, big guy,” Amanda said, hoisting my son onto her hip and carrying him away.

  Bitchy looked me up and down, her nose wrinkled in disgust as she took in my soiled dress. Her forehead remained unnaturally smooth, a sure sign she’d had some facial cosmetic work done not long ago. But lack of forehead wrinkles aside, her opinion of me and my stained dress was quite clear.

  “Ew!” she hissed before flouncing away, her stilettos clicking on the floor with every step.

  Wearily, I made my way to the washroom to clean myself up as best I could.

  Of course, I managed to cross paths with Gavin on my way to the washroom. Why was it that I always ran into him at the most inopportune times? Even though I knew nothing could ever come of my infuriating little crush on him, I was still a woman and wanted to look good when he was around.

  And yet here I was, covered in sticky brown sauce that vaguely resembled diarrhea. How lovely.

  Though I tried to duck my head and rush past him, it didn’t work. When he saw me, he stopped and announced, “I realized you’ll want to get your kid home to bed at a decent hour. I’m closing Palate early tonight because I’m the boss and I can do whatever the hell I want. You’re getting a cooking lesson.”

  “Like…now?”

  “Yes.” Then Gavin got a better look at me and raised an eyebrow. “That must be a new record,” he observed wryly. “Two dresses ruined in two nights. You’re an expensive woman to keep clothed, Mina Sinclair.”

  “It’s not ruined,” I told him quickly. “I just need to clean up…”

  He chuckled. “Come find me when you’re done,” he instructed. “I have lots to teach you.”

  Chapter 06

  “Mina, do you know anything about this?”

  Before I’d even
had a chance to fully enter the kitchen, Gavin was questioning me. Immediately, I noticed the kitchen was empty but for us. He must have asked everyone else to leave. I swallowed hard.

  “Do I know anything about what?”

  He gestured to a plate of spicy shrimp vesuvio and looked at me accusingly. I could see in his eyes he already knew I was guilty. I was the one who’d instructed his assistant chefs to change the way they prepared the meal. The changes were miniscule. In fact, I was surprised Gavin had even noticed given how busy he was.

  Then again, he was a perfectionist when it came to the restaurant. Maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised at all. Maybe I should have expected him to hone in on the modifications immediately. After all, no one messes with Gavin Rothe’s restaurant.

  “Yes,” I told him immediately owning up to my actions. “It was me.”

  “Why?”

  “Hayden Slate used to make the same dish and sometimes we’d experiment with the flavors. We found that his customers preferred when he added some freshly squeezed lime juice and organic honey to the sauce. It isn’t the conventional way to make it, but the way the flavors intermingle with the heat is pretty amazing.”

  “You see these?” he asked, pointing to a large bulletin board on the wall that was full of his recipes. “There are step-by-step instructions here for my assistant chefs to follow. These are my recipes. You’re not working for Hayden Slate anymore.”

  “I’m well aware of that,” I replied as I started wiping down an already immaculate countertop.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I looked up at Gavin then. Fearlessly, I told him, “Hayden wasn’t afraid of change.”

  The observation was designed to touch a nerve. Maybe that wasn’t nice of me but I didn’t care for Gavin’s tone. Yes, I was his employee…but it wasn’t like I’d tried to burn the place to the ground. I’d only been trying to help.