by Kira Barcelo
Cooking With Fire
By
Kira Barcelo
©2010 by Blushing Books® and Kira Barcelo
Copyright © 2010 by Blushing Books® and Kira Barcelo
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Barcelo, Kira
Cooking With Fire
eBook ISBN: 978-1-60968-582-9
Cover Design by ABCD Graphics
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This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Chapter One
Pulling into her usual spot in the lot behind the restaurant, Carolyn Hammond consulted the clock on her new Mustang’s dashboard. 9:25 AM. Only an hour and a half late this time, she noted with a giggle. That, in her book, was a vast improvement for her, considering that punctuality wasn’t exactly her forte.
Of course her business partner wouldn’t see it that way. As usual, her older brother Cliff was already there. He didn’t come often, but when he did, he was the same stickler for promptness that he’d always been. Seeing his SUV parked in a spot only a few feet away from her car, she imagined he’d been the first to arrive, even long before their true-blue, dedicated sous chef, Rhonda Neely.
And if their phone conversation earlier that week was any indication, the main dish on the menu was bound to be war. Yet another heated argument with her brother was the last thing Carolyn needed, especially after the grueling task of going over the business’ books only the night before. That had been depressing enough. Was it any wonder she was never in a hurry to get to work anymore?
But maybe she could diffuse the situation. She’d been successful at that before. Even with her stomach in knots and her nerves on edge, with the amount of sleep she was getting dwindling more and more each night, she could somehow avoid a total blowout with her brother. All she had to do was keep her own emotions in check. Consulting her reflection in the restaurant’s windows, she smoothed down the skirt of her yellow sundress, inspected her brand new French manicure, and sailed breezily in through the Beachcomber Bistro’s main entrance.
“Honey—all my honies—I’m home!” she sang out in her lilting voice. “Good morning, good morning!”
Cliff was seated at the bar with his back to her, but hearing her voice he tossed a stony glance over his shoulder. Carolyn caught sight of the color draining from the face of the head waiter, Jamie Holbrook, who stood behind the bar.
“Good afternoon,” her brother corrected her evenly. “Nice of you to join us, Carolyn.”
Her spontaneous reaction was to laugh. “You sound like a high school teacher with that remark.”
“I should have been a high school teacher. That would’ve been a lot less dangerous… financially.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. Let me go put my things down.”
Cliff wouldn’t stay long. That was the good part. She consoled herself with that fact as she headed through the kitchen to her modest little office, which was located through a door next to the big industrial freezer and up a flight of stairs. Her brother usually stayed a couple of hours and then headed back to his other, home-based business. It was just that, whenever he was at the restaurant, it was always a long two hours.
If nothing else, her cozy office granted her some tranquility. Hailey, at nineteen the youngest member of her staff, was a good kid. Those potted plants that brought some greenery to her surroundings in the office would have died had the sweet-natured young waitress not taken it upon herself to water them regularly for Carolyn. The young college student had also given her the WORLD’S BEST BOSS mug, set on her desk and filled with Hershey’s kisses, to commemorate last year’s Boss Day.
What a joke, huh? Carolyn thought glumly. World’s Worst Boss was more like it. If business didn’t pick up and the profits—if they could even be called that—continued as dismally as they had in the past seven months, the Beachside Bistro would have to close its doors. And then, at thirty-six, Carolyn would have to consider going back to the only thing she knew how to do, and that was clerical work. She would have to resign herself to working for someone else, to admitting that she’d been a failure at running the restaurant that she and Cliff had bought together with the money their father had left them.
Fixing herself a cup of hazelnut coffee from the Keurig machine on the table near her desk, she sighed and fired up her PC. There wasn’t much for her to do until the restaurant opened for business at eleven-thirty. Maybe surfing the internet for a while, checking out the sales at her favorite stores, would calm her nerves.
The person knocking at the door didn’t wait for her to allow him in. Cliff popped his head into the room.
“Hey—we need to talk,” he announced firmly.
“Okay, fine. Let’s get this over with.” She waved a hand at the chair facing her desk. “Have a seat. Want some coffee?”
Sighing, her brother ignored the offer and sank into the arm chair. “This isn’t going to take long, Carolyn. I have to get back to work. And besides, what I have to say isn’t going to take more than a few minutes.”
She stiffened. “Look, I know what you’re going to say, Cliff—”
“No, I don’t think you do. I know I’ve given you a hard time over your…well, your free-spirited attitude when it comes to this place, but to be honest…the real problem is me.”
Carolyn’s eyes widened. “You? How do you figure that? You’re hardly ever here.”
“I know. That’s the problem.” Cliff half smiled, but his expression was somber. “Ever since we’ve owned the Beachcomber, I’ve given you a hard time over the way you run this place. But, you know, the fact is that I’m not even here on most days. The Beachside Bistro is in trouble, and it’s got me as a co-owner. A guy who can’t fully concentrate his time or his energy on making this place the success that it could be. That doesn’t make me much of a co-owner, now does it?”
She was speechless. He’d totally thrown her for a loop with that one.
“I really can’t let you take that blame, Cliff.” She was almost afraid to admit that, knowing she was opening up herself for criticism. And rightful criticism at that.
“And I can’t let you take it all, either.” Her brother leaned forward and rubbed his hands together. “Like I can’t expect you to run this place by yourself. That’s why I’m getting out. I’ve selling my half of the business.”
“What?” Nervously, Carolyn laughed. “Oh, I get it. You’re just teasing.”
“Oh, I’m dead serious, sis.” He went on, his tone apologetic. “I know I should’ve talked to you about it first. Knowing you, though, you would’ve tried to talk me out of it. If this place goes down, you’re going to lose everything. At least I have my other business, but you’ve only got the restaurant, Carolyn. That’s why I’m stepping down and Alex is stepping in.”
“Alex? Who’s that?” she de
manded.
“Alex Stanton. He’s your new business partner. Well…as of two o’clock yesterday afternoon, he is.” Cliff chuckled, adding, “That’s when we closed. We signed on that proverbial dotted line. He bought me out. And he’s coming in to see the place in about an hour. He’s excited about working with you, Carolyn.”
“Sonofa—Cliff, I can’t believe this!”
She kept her voice down, remembering that the walls were thin and her staff could overhear everything. Trembling with emotion, she rose and came around the desk, confronting her brother.
“You never thought to discuss this with me, Clifford,” she spat out the words. “You just went ahead and made this decision—a decision that impacts the restaurant—without me.”
“I sold my half of the Beachside Bistro,” he reminded her. “It was my half to sell, Carolyn. And I did it because Alexander Stanton’s already run a restaurant. He’s got experience and he’s a smart man.”
“He’s a stranger!”
“No, he’s not. He’s an old friend of mine from college. You’ll like him. Well…” A mischievous smirk crossed his face. “I’ve told him about…uh…your little quirks.”
“Meaning?”
“Well, honey, what do you think I mean? You waltzing in here whenever you feel like it, for starters. The way you let that lazy, good-for-nothing executive chef of ours take advantage of you. The way you spend more time taking breaks and having fun rather than being a hands-on boss. And he told me not to worry, that he’ll straighten you right out.”
Carolyn’s eyes widened. She pulled back her hunched shoulders, standing to her full height, which wasn’t more than a tad over five feet.
“Cliff, you had no right to do that,” she said, completely unable to hide her hurt. “This is my restaurant. And you are my brother. If you wanted to bail on me, then you should have had the decency to tell me. But, no. What do you do? You turn around and sell out to some old friend of yours…some arrogant jerk who plans on ‘straightening’ me out.”
“Carolyn, honey, I’m sorry.” He stood up and took her by her forearms. “I’ve tried to tell you. All these months, I’ve tried. Now you’re going to lose everything. I had to do something drastic. Please understand. I really think this will be for the best. Alex is just what you need.”
Another knock at the door. This time it was Hailey Ryman poking her head in. Slim little thing, with mousey brown hair up in a ponytail, and yet a magnificent, soulful pair of green eyes.
“Cliff, Carolyn, sorry to interrupt you guys,” she began. “But there’s a man down in the kitchen. He says his name is Alex Stanton. And…” The young waitress frowned. “He says he’s our new boss?”
“Is that so?” Seething inwardly, Carolyn looked from her waitress to her brother, who glanced at his watch.
“He’s early,” Cliff said. “See what I mean? He’ll be great for business!”
“For somebody else’s business, maybe. Not for mine.” Then she told Hailey, “He’s not your boss. I am.”
“Carolyn, he’s co-owner now. That does make him the boss, too,” her brother pointed out.
“You don’t own the Beachside Bistro anymore, Cliff. That means you don’t have a say in this. And if he thinks he’s coming in and taking over, he’d better guess again. Or the one who’s getting straightened out is him.”
At that, she rounded the desk and sat back down, slamming her computer mouse and ledger down vehemently.
“Aren’t you coming down to meet him?” Cliff asked, his voice shaking slightly.
“In a few minutes.” In her anger, she refused to look at him. “He can cool his jets. He’d better get used to waiting. That’ll be happening to him a lot, if I have anything to say about it.”
“Wow. Way to get off on the wrong foot in a business relationship.”
“Good. I don’t give a damn. Go back to your own business. I’ll take care of mine,” she said, coldly turning her back to him.
Hailey slipped away, visibly uncomfortable with having witnessed the battle between the siblings. Cliff said nothing else, but as he sauntered out the door he looked ashen and upset. This was, by far, the worst thing her brother had ever done to her.
I had to do something drastic. Alex is just what you need.
Carolyn clicked off from Internet Explorer. In time, she would forgive her brother, though for now she couldn’t remember ever having been as furious at him. This was partially her own fault; the last time they’d spoken, she’d confided that she was having sleepless night after sleepless night. That was how badly she was fretting over the bills. The restaurant was barely turning enough of a profit to maintain the expenses of running it, and she was close to foreclosing on her home.
Maybe Cliff had been a bit dramatic by selling his half of the restaurant, but his heart was in the right place. But the same sure as hell couldn’t be said of this Stanton character.
Maybe if she just laid down the law to him. Let him know he was a partner now, but she was the one in charge. She checked her reflection in the handheld mirror in her top drawer, ensuring she looked presentable. Her hair, recently touched up with a pretty frosting, was longer now than it had been in years. The newfound stress had added some pounds to her frame, so her favorite yellow dress was tighter than usual. For the most part, though, she looked fine.
She resigned herself and went to the door. No use in putting it off any longer. Whether she liked it or not, she now had a new business partner.
So it was time to meet Mr. Alex Stanton.
* * *
First order of the day: The kitchen needed a thorough cleaning, a real scouring, from top to bottom. And if he had his way, the next step would be to fire that useless chef, Marta.
“How long has it been since you cleaned this place?” Alex Stanton asked the woman.
From the moment he first laid eyes on her, he knew exactly who Marta DeLong was, and he’d disliked her instantly. It didn’t help that his old friend, Cliff Hammond, had confided that Marta was more adept at manipulating Carolyn Hammond and taking advantage of the woman’s friendship than she was at working and managing that kitchen. Carolyn had given her a job, and in return, the so-called chef was helping to run the woman’s business into the ground.
“Ummm, I don’t know. Maybe last week?” Marta replied.
“Maybe last week? Looks more like maybe last year.” He ran his finger along an overhead lamp and displayed the grime on it to her. “See that? That’s filthy. You’re preparing food for customers in here.”
“Uh-huh. Well, you’ll have to take that up with Carolyn.” The smug chef smirked at him. “She’s the one in charge.”
“Actually, we both are from now on. Got that, ma’am? You and the other two chefs can grab a mop and some sponges. We don’t open those doors until this place is spotless.”
Marta whirled around to face him. She wasn’t so smug now. “What?”
“You heard me. We’re not opening until this place is spic and span. So I suggest you get to work. Now.”
“Alex? Alex Stanton?”
At the sound of his name, he turned on his heel. That woman in the yellow dress coming towards him had to be Carolyn Hammond, aka his new business partner. Was that the way she typically came to work? Not that he was complaining. But in that dress, which she filled out with a pretty curvalicious figure and shapely legs, and those sassy sandals, she had him thinking about other scrumptious things that didn’t involve serving food.
“You must be Carolyn,” he said and extended his hand. “It’s great to finally meet you.”
“Oh. Okay.” She accepted his hand, but only briefly, and the moment seemed awkward. “Is there a problem here?”
“A problem? No, not at all.” Smiling, he thrust his hands into his pants’ pockets. “Our chefs were just getting to work on cleaning the kitchen.”
“But we’re about to open shortly. They have to get ready for the customers.”
“They are getting ready. They’re clean
ing our restaurant. Why don’t we let them do that and in the meantime you can give me the grand tour?”
She was earnestly pretty. The other Hammond, her brother, was a great guy, but he was a guy. Alex wasn’t in the habit of noticing other guys’ looks, but Cliff’s sister had his gaze lingering on her something wicked. She was a little on the high maintenance side, though, or at least it looked that way to him. Meticulously manicured fingernails, jewelry coordinated with rest of her outfit, makeup done without being overdone. That wasn’t the usual type of woman that caught his attention.
But that didn’t matter. He wasn’t dating Carolyn Hammond; he was going to run a restaurant with her. That is, once he helped her keep her pretty little feet on the ground and her head out of the clouds.
“You didn’t tell us your brother sold the restaurant to—to him.”
Alex remained silent, but it wasn’t easy. Marta DeLong was being insolent and sullen with Carolyn, occasionally glaring over at her new boss. They were a short distance away from him, but not so far that he couldn’t hear what was being said.
“Believe me, it was news to me, too,” she confessed.
“Do we really have to clean the kitchen? I don’t have time for that, Carolyn. You know that.”
“Fine. You can clean it later.”
“Oh, great. Thanks, Carolyn.” Marta left, but not without first flashing Alex a bitchy, triumphant glance.
“I sure hope she cooks as well as she pits Mommy against Daddy to get her own way,” he muttered.
Carolyn twirled around to face him. “What did you say?”
“Nothing. I just told her to clean this place from top to bottom before we even open those doors.” Alex tossed a hand into the air. “And you told prima donna over there she could clean it afterwards. One way or another, those chefs aren’t going home today until you can eat off this floor. I’ll see to that personally.”