“Oh, what am I thinking? You must know him,” the woman smiled prettily. “Samuel Vervaine? I’m his girlfriend, Lizbet.”
Chapter Nineteen
Sam was proud of his staff. With the exception of the dishwasher, everyone had worked for him last year, and he had turned them into a solid team. They worked efficiently and neatly, and had similar tastes in music, which meant there wasn’t any petty fighting over the stereo during prep or clean-up. As he looked around the bustling kitchen while they prepared for dinner service, he felt good. It seemed that for once everything in his life was moving along the way he wanted it to. He and Cara were getting closer, all of his culinary equipment was in good working order, and he had talked Sato into going out for a cold beer after work. Yes, this was going to be a good summer.
Or at least, that’s what he was thinking up until the moment the door opened and Matteo and Cara walked in. Matteo’s mouth twisted as he worked hard to suppress a grin, while Cara kept her lips tightly closed and her eyes held an inscrutable expression. Angry? Sad? Disappointed? He couldn’t tell, but something strange was obviously going on.
“No idle hands in the kitchen,” he told them, his standard greeting for any non-restaurant staff. “If you want to be in here, get to work. And actually Matteo, you can’t come in anyway. You’re not an employee and you’re a walking health-code violation.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to work here,” Matteo replied. “No way. Not unless you form a union and make Paddy give you some of your basic rights back. To be honest, I don’t know why you aren’t on strike right now.” His loud voice carried and Sam’s staff started looking to see what was going on, though he had them trained well enough that nobody stopped working.
“Hmmm. As management, I probably shouldn’t condone all this talk of unions and strikes,” Cara shook her head. “But at the same time, he is kinda right. This is a terribly abusive environment; it’s worse than a prison, really, the way we cut our employees off from all contact with the outside world.”
Sam looked from one to the other and then cautiously set down his knife. “What are you talking about?”
“Yeah, prisoners can at least make one phone call, right? But here in this god-awful place they don’t let you use the phone or the computer at all. That’s keeping you in isolation. Hell, in these modern times, it’s probably considered torture.” Matteo’s tone seemed serious, but a glint of amusement sparkled in his eyes and his dimples were showing.
“But they do let us. You know there’s a staff phone, you’ve called me before . . . wait, why are you talking about this?” Sam’s stomach began to sink. “Seriously, what’s going on?”
“It is terrible. It forces people like, oh, I don’t know, the chef’s girlfriend, to travel all the way here unannounced to surprise him.” Cara looked him right in the eyes, and Sam felt like the world was rushing away. So much for training—all the noise in the kitchen stopped.
“Girlfriend?” he asked carefully, hoping it was a joke that he still wasn’t getting.
“Surely you remember her? We haven’t kept you locked up that long have we?”
“I’d never forget a woman like her,” Matteo interjected. “Tall, blond, sexy? Wow, is memory loss a symptom of PTSD? How long have they held you prisoner?” Matteo turned to the rest of the kitchen staff. “Lizbet is hot. She’s in the lobby, if you guys want to go check her out. I’m guessing she’s probably high maintenance, but damn.”
They’re messing with me. This is just some weird prank, Sam assured himself. There was no possible way Lizbet could or would show up here.
He ended things with her, or rather, he had gotten her to end things with him. She was upset when he declined the sous chef job in Denver, and she became enraged when she found out that the reason he turned it down was to return to Whispering Pines, a dead-end temp job that was just stalling him out in his career and his life (her words, not his). She threw a plate at his head and screamed at him, and later, he apologized, but told her he was still going. I’m sorry, I’m taking this job, it’s important to me, he insisted. And that was it. She had understood. She even drove him to the airport when his contract at the ski resort ended in April. He had said goodbye to her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek and walked away, and it was over.
But now he was cutting through the dining room to the lobby with Matteo—and Cara—and as soon as the door opened, his heart sank. It wasn’t a prank. There was Lizbet, leaning against the reception desk and chatting cheerfully with Amy.
Damn it, this was not going to go well. He glanced at Cara, who maintained an unreadable expression, which unnerved him. Was she amused? Angry? Jealous? Matteo’s smirking presence only made things worse. Soon everyone in the village would be talking about this, and he had enough problems with his reputation as it was.
“Darling,” Lizbet called in her faux-posh voice as she rushed over to embrace him. “I’ve missed you so much, and I thought I’d surprise you, so ta-dah! Here I am!”
She was wearing perfume, which made him cringe. He didn’t need any of that clinging to his clothes, especially now, when he was trying to prep for the dinner service. He wished he had taken off his coat before leaving the kitchen. Now he was going to have to change to his spare.
From the corner of his eye, Sam watched Cara rejoin Amy at the desk, both pretending they weren’t straining their ears, and Matteo studiously sorting brochures on the stand while acting as though he wasn’t edging closer.
“Let’s go outside so we can talk.” Sam took Lizbet by the hand and rushed her out to the porch.
“You act like you aren’t happy to see me.” She stuck her lower lip out in a pout. “I traveled all the way here, and you have no idea what an ordeal I went through. The last plane I took was so small it didn’t even have first class. I had to sit in coach, where they keep all the crying babies. And the driver I hired to bring me up from Duluth just would not stop talking. Ugh. Anyway, here I am.” She looked around. “It is lovely, no wonder you wanted to come back.”
“Why are you here, Liz?” he asked bluntly. “I don’t understand.” He was genuinely confused as to why she would travel all this way to see him. He would never go through so much hassle for an ex, ever. Clean breaks were always preferable. Unless . . . for a horrifying moment he entertained the notion that she might be here to announce a pregnancy. No, that couldn’t have happened, right? He always used protection. He looked at her waistline and did some frantic mental calculations.
“Oh, Samuel.” She reached for his arm. “I’m here because I love you and I miss you, and I got tired of being so cutoff from you. I know you’re busy and don’t have access to a phone, but I couldn’t sit around waiting for you to come back like I did last summer. I thought I’d come out here and maybe we can rent a place together in that cute little village. I wouldn’t mind staying here for a few months. And then we can go back to Aspen and figure out the rest of our lives.”
“I . . .” Sam didn’t know what to say. He was relieved, of course, that she wasn’t showing him ultrasound photos and tearfully announcing his imminent fatherhood, but still, what was he supposed to do? Lizbet stood there, looking up at him with a smile on her face. She again reached for him, and he was afraid she was about to kiss him.
“Samuel, you don’t seem as happy to see me as I expected. Is something wrong?” Now she was beginning to look hurt.
Sam hated every second of this. In the kitchen, he was confident and in control, but he tended to avoid confrontation at all costs when it involved personal issues. It was a failing of his, and he knew it. He glanced away from Lizbet’s confused face and realized that they were standing in front of one of the large lobby windows, and the woman he really liked—the one that he thought he was finally getting somewhere with—was watching him. That gave him strength. If he had to crush someone, it wouldn’t be Cara. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for an argument.
“Lizbet, you can’t be here. We broke up.” He expected her to
be angry, but instead she looked surprised.
“Broke up? Oh, Samuel, what are you talking about?”
“Remember?” Doubts started swirling in his mind. They had broken up, hadn’t they? They must have, he couldn’t have imagined everything. “When I told you I took this job, and you called me irresponsible and selfish? And then we agreed that I was irresponsible and selfish and didn’t deserve you and I should leave you alone? Remember?” He left off the part about her throwing things at his head and screeching at him.
“That was a fight, not a breakup.” Lizbet’s eyes widened in shock. “Samuel, I love you. We were planning on moving in together. I thought . . . I thought you loved me, too. Relationships don’t just end over one little disagreement.” She sounded devastated. Tears appeared in her eyes, and she quickly pulled out a tissue to dab them away before they could ruin her perfect makeup.
Sam collapsed into the nearest chair and put his face in his hands. He hated this, hated it so much. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He truly thought they had ended things. That’s why he hadn’t bothered calling her in the six weeks he’d been away. Why would he? They were over.
Lizbet knelt down beside him, putting her perfectly manicured hands on his knees. “Samuel, look at me. I know you. I know this conversation is hard for you and you run away when things get tough. I know that about you, and I accept it. There’s something broken inside you, and I’ve always had a soft spot for broken things. You and I, we can work together. We can mend whatever is wrong with your heart. That’s what people do when they’re in love.”
Sam finally looked up at her. “Liz, I genuinely don’t know what’s going on here. Our relationship is over. There’s nothing in me that needs to be fixed. I’m fine, just confused. You can’t show up at my workplace and pull me out of my kitchen and tell me we’re still together. That’s not how these things work.” He felt absurdly proud of himself for managing to string words into coherent sentences. He was so bad at this. If it weren’t for his fantasies involving a relationship with Cara, he probably would have caved. And then he would have to put up with Lizbet’s dramas contaminating the peaceful life he had built here.
“Samuel!” Now she was upset. “I should have known you’d do something like this. There’s a reason my friends all warned me about you. I thought I could make you better. Apparently, I can’t. You’re so selfish and I can’t believe I traveled all the way here for you. You know what? I give up. I’m done trying. I’m not going to be the one to fix you. You aren’t worth it, you heartless bastard.”
She looked like she expected him to comfort her, to beg her to change her mind. He wasn’t going to give her what she wanted, not this time.
“I’m not broken.” Sam finally found the strength to be honest. “And I’m not heartless. I have a heart. It just doesn’t belong to you. You’ve never been serious about me either, so I don’t know where this is coming from. I think you’re just lashing out because for the first time in your life, you’re not getting your way.” That last bit was probably not necessary, he realized immediately as he watched Lizbet’s face changed from sadness to fury.
“Alright, Samuel Vervaine. That is it! I am done. Done. Completely and irrevocably done. You are nothing, you know that, nothing. You don’t matter to me, you don’t matter to anyone. Just stay hiding out here on your little island and pretend you’re a real boy with real feelings. I know the truth, you son of a bitch. You are nothing but a worthless shell. We really are broken up this time, and you will never see me again. Oh, and I’m throwing out all the crap you left in my condo, including your stupid cookbooks.”
She stormed into the lobby, which was not the way he expected her to go. After a moment, he got up, shook himself, and went the long way around the building to return to the kitchen. Lizbet was wrong about him. He wasn’t broken, and he wasn’t just a shell. He was fixing himself, just not for her.
Chapter Twenty
Matteo leaned on the reception desk. “You should make popcorn,” he told Amy and Cara as they watched Sam and Lizbet talking on the porch. Apparently, they didn’t realize they were right in front of a large window.
“What do you think they’re saying?” Cara couldn’t read lips, so she tried to analyze their body language. Lizbet kept taking steps toward Sam and reaching for him, and he kept brushing her off. He seemed annoyed, she seemed angry and confused.
“You know Sam avoids conflict. He’s going to apologize for whatever she’s mad about and then they’re going to start making out in front of us. Even if he doesn’t want to. Don’t worry, I’ll go spray them with the hose before I let them have sex out there. We’ll end up with too many guest complaints.” Amy was matter-of-fact in her assessment.
She’s probably not far off, Cara thought. Sam was the kind of guy who avoided uncomfortable conversations. That’s why, even last night, when they finally began to reconnect and rebuild their former closeness, she still didn’t tell him how much she regretted the way they ended things last summer, or about the email she had sent him last fall. She didn’t want to watch him squirm and avoid the subject and inevitably walk away, especially now that every other word out of his mouth was ‘friend.’ How many times had he told her he was so happy they were friends again? Too many.
Cara watched as Sam put his face in his hands and shook his head while Lizbet . . . oh no, she was coming back to the lobby. Amy and Cara quickly picked up a stack of papers and pretended to be immersed in reading them.
Lizbet came back to the desk. She looked furious, and she held her jaw firmly set as though she was trying not to cry. “Excuse me. You offered to call around and find me a place to stay. Could you instead find out if there are tickets available for the next possible ferry and a hotel suite back on the mainland? I’m too tired to keep traveling today, and it looks like I’m heading back to Colorado.”
“I would be happy to take care of that for you.” Amy smiled sympathetically. “And I know it’s none of my business, but after several years of working with Sam, I believe I am justified in saying that he’s kind of a jerk sometimes. I’m truly sorry for whatever just happened.”
When Amy finished booking Lizbet’s reservations, Cara took pity on her. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride to the docks. And I’ll buy you a coffee. You look like you need a sympathetic ear, and it’ll be awhile before the ferry leaves.”
....................
Margaux’s coffee shop was crowded, but Cara managed to secure a table for two. “Here, second best coffee on the island.” She offered a mug to Lizbet.
“A broken heart doesn’t merit the best coffee?” Lizbet asked with a strained smile.
“That’s back at the inn. Sorry about that.” She studied Lizbet’s face. The woman was quite attractive, she had to admit. She and Sam probably made a striking couple. Still, Lizbet did not seem like the kind of woman she would have expected Sam to be with—though all of Sam’s stories about her did seem to highlight her drama queen tendencies and vanity.
“It’s fine. It’s nice of you to bring me here. I must confess, I’m feeling a little … confused right now.” Lizbet ran a hand through her hair and sipped her coffee. “Hey, do you know Samuel at all? I mean, I don’t know if you mix with the kitchen help or not.”
“I’ve worked with him for a few years,” Cara admitted, deliberately underplaying their relationship.
“It’s so odd, him acting like this. I’m . . . I don’t want to sound bitchy, but I’m used to being the one in control in the relationship. Now all of the sudden, here he is, telling me that he’s the one who wants to end things. It doesn’t make any sense. It’s not like him. And after I traveled all this way.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry you went through all that. It can be difficult to get here.” Cara tried to force herself to sound compassionate, but something about Lizbet rubbed her the wrong way.
“I should have listened to my friends. They warned me about slumming it with a guy like him.” Lizbet stared into space as she spoke
. “Everyone told me he wasn’t good enough for me. Once when I invited him to a charity gala, you know what he said? He couldn’t go with me because he was helping one of his buddies cater it. Can you imagine how awkward that made the event for me? All my friends saw him there, passing around trays of food like a waiter. I loved the man, I really did. But who can build a future with a temporary resort cook? That’s why I used my connections to get him an offer in Denver. He needed to move up in the culinary world. He was going to be a sous chef at a five-star restaurant, and when he got promoted to head chef, then he’d have been actual marriage material. And I was willing to wait. I’m so dumb. I can’t believe I wasted so much time on him. I could have done so much better.”
“He’s an executive chef here,” Cara said in a stiff voice. She started to get a tad defensive. “I mean, it may only be a seasonal position, but our restaurant is very highly rated and always has excellent reviews. We’re on every list of must visits in Minnesota.”
“Oh, well, Minnesota.” Lizbet waved a dismissive hand. Then she apparently realized where she was and to whom she was speaking. “I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to be so judgmental. From what I saw of it, your inn is a beautiful property, and Samuel always said this is the best kitchen he had ever worked in.”
“So why exactly were you dating Sam if you think he’s so far beneath you?” She tried to phrase it lightly, but the question came out sharper than she intended.
“God, I sound terrible, don’t I?” Lizbet had the grace to look embarrassed. “Look at me, talking about my boyfriend—I mean, ex-boyfriend—in such a horrible manner. The truth is, I never cared what my friends thought. I didn’t need a man to buy me things and take me on exotic adventures. I have my own money. I can afford whatever I want. I loved him because I saw so much potential. He could have been so amazing. You probably don’t know what it’s like, but sometimes you meet a man, and the attraction is there and, oh my god, the passion, so you overlook his flaws. Like Sam’s not one for communicating, or sharing emotions, and believe me, that man doesn’t have a single romantic bone in his body. But I never minded, because it’s the little things that matter, you know. He might not say the words, but he showed his love in other ways. He took care of me, he would repair things in my condo, and make me food, and he helped me throw the most marvelous dinner parties.”
That Last Summer (Whispering Pines Island Book 1) Page 9