Room Service

Without question, Eric turned to the two candidates left. “I’m sorry, that’s it for today. Thanks for coming.”

Liza looked at him as if bowled over.

“So what do you need?” Eric asked her.

Still looking unbearably touched that he’d blindly follow her simply because she said she needed him, she cleared her throat. “Let’s go. You’ll see when we get there.”

As soon as they hit the lobby and walked toward the main entrance of Amuse Bouche, Em hesitated. “He already said no, Liza.” Her heart tightened at the memories of last night and this morning. Memories he’d sullied when he’d looked at her as if she’d been any of the other women he’d let in, and then out, of his life.

She hadn’t expected that, she could admit, though what she had expected, she couldn’t exactly say. She’d known who he was, what he was. She’d known his past. She’d known he was wildly, fabulously sexy, with an edge, with a wanderlust spirit, a man who rarely settled in one place for long.

And she’d slept with him anyway, just as she’d also begun to fall for him.

That made her the crazy one, not him.

“Let’s just talk to him,” Liza said.

“I can’t.”

Liza frowned. “You look pale.”

“Just tired.”

“Long night?”

Aware that both Liza and Eric were watching her carefully, she lifted a shoulder.

“I knew it,” Liza said. “Oh, honey. Did he break your heart? Because if he did, I can break him. I can-”

“Liza.” Em smiled. What else could she do? “Let’s just fix one thing at a time.”

“Yes. Starting with the show.” Liza looked through the empty dining room toward the kitchen, jaw tight, eyes determined. She was a bulldog when it came to this stuff. “Humor me. Give me five minutes.”

The restaurant wasn’t open yet. No one greeted them so they moved toward the kitchen doors, where they could see lights and hear talking.

Liza knocked.

A pretty brunette poked her head out. Em recognized her as the sommelier from the other night. “Can I help you?” she asked, looking greatly stressed.

“Yes,” Liza said. “I heard both of your assistant chefs were out with the flu and that you’re in a real bind.”

Both Em and Eric looked at Liza in surprise.

The sommelier sighed. “It’s true. But I don’t know how you heard such a thing-”

“Oh, you’d be surprised what I hear.” Liza smiled and offered her business card. “I’m just a guest here, but you can see I’m an assistant producer, so I know how to get things done. Our location director here-” she pointed to Eric “-is an amazing cook. No formal training, but he’s doing research for a show. Maybe he could help you out today. You could call our studio for his references.”

The sommelier looked Eric over with hopeful curiosity. “Really?”

Eric, as confused as Em, nodded.

“Well…” The sommelier glanced down at the card in her hand, then back up into their faces. “You could come in, meet Chef. He’d have to approve this, of course, which, truthfully, he’s not likely to do. He doesn’t work with strangers,” she said, though her gaze turned bemused when she looked over at Em.

“Oh, we’re not strangers to Chef,” Liza said with a smile.

Em added her own weak smile. Nope, not strangers.

“Just a sec.” The sommelier shut the door.

Em turned to Liza. “What are you doing?”

“A favor for a favor. We do something for Chef, and then he’ll do something for us.”

“Liza, those are not equivalent favors!” Em cried. “One day of Eric’s services is not going to make Jacob come across the country-”

The kitchen door opened again, and there stood Jacob himself, looking tall, big, and gorgeously rumpled in his battered jeans and boots and a T-shirt that said Smile, It Confuses People.

“Em,” he said in surprise, for one brief beat his face unguarded, allowing her to see the pleasure before it was gone in a blink, carefully masked.

It made her sad to think that what they’d shared last night was going to be just a distant memory.

“Chef,” Liza purred. “Eric’s an amazing chef. He’s offering to help you out today.”

“Thank you,” he said. “But I don’t need-”

“It’s a Friday. We both know what this place is going to look like tonight, and that’s full to the gills. You can’t do it alone.”

Jacob looked at Eric. “You cook?”

“Yes.”

Jacob turned to Em. “What’s the catch?”

Em looked into his eyes and felt her throat tighten. He knew she was here for some reason, and not the goodness of her heart. All his life he’d had to scrap and fight to get by, nothing had ever been handed to him, not friendship, not love, nothing.

She wouldn’t do the same thing. She wouldn’t do this Nathan’s way. “No catch.”

He crossed his arms, disbelieving.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Coming here was a mistake.” And grabbing both Liza and Eric, she turned away.

“Wait.”

She went still, then turned back.

Gaze still inscrutable, he’d relaxed marginally, and she knew with a sudden clarity that he’d lied to her. Last night hadn’t been the norm for him, it had been just as special, just as amazing, as it had been for her.

And he’d pushed her away because of it. It had been his right to do so, and she understood it all too well.

“Help would be welcome,” he said, surprising her.

Eric shoved up his sleeves. “Just tell me where and what.”

Em nodded and took a step back to let Eric through. “Okay, then. Good luck tonight-”

“Where are you going?” Jacob asked.

“Out of your hair.”

Jacob rubbed his nearly hairless head. “No worries there.”

Em stared at him. “What are you saying?”

“I think he already said it,” Liza said, looking at Jacob as she rolled up her sleeves. “He needs help. From all of us.”

EM ENDED UP with a ponytail keeping her hair back and a white jacket over her clothes. But it was the knife in her hands concerning her as she contemplated a stack of vegetables that might as well have been Mt. Everest.

Jacob was moving around, lifting big pots, wielding equipment, working near the hot, open flame, mixing up something that smelled like heaven. Eric was on the other side of the kitchen at the open flame, smiling and joking with Pru, while Liza surreptitiously watched them from her corner, mouth grim.

They’d promised Jacob an hour of prep work. Correction. She and Liza had promised an hour. Eric would stay as long as Jacob was needed, the rest of the night if necessary, because, as he said, the experience would be fun.

From the range, Eric laughed at something Pru said.

Liza pretended not to notice.

Em wasn’t as good at pretending. Ignoring what had happened between her and Jacob last night, even for an hour, was beyond her, but she gave it the ol’ college try as she reached for a carrot and began slicing. How could he look at her and not remember?

Even as she thought it, Jacob glanced across the room at her, nothing showing on his face.

Was he thinking about what they’d been doing only a few hours before? How he’d touched her, kissed her? How when he’d been buried deep in her body he’d met her gaze and had been unable to tear his away?

Eric laughed again.

Liza set down her knife and walked toward them, a look of intent on her face.