In the Fire

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In the Fire Page 25

by Eileen Griffin


  “I happen to like just you, Lassiter. All the fancy shit is hot, but yeah. I know what’s under the apron.” My smirk deepened as he stared at me with a healthy amount of lust tempered with affection. My wandering hands froze at the top of his ass, fingers hooked into the belt loops of his jeans when Claire spoke.

  “Break it up, you two. I’m starving and you may have a mutiny on your hands if you don’t feed me soon.”

  I flipped her off after I pulled back.

  “Love you too, Clairebear. Cal wants to have lunch and a staff meeting with everyone at Za Za’s. Can you survive until then, Short Stack?”

  She punched my arm and I winced. “As long as I don’t have to buy lunch, Big Brother.”

  “Yeah, I know you’re okay when you regain your Hulk punch.”

  “And, I know you’re okay when you’re trying to weasel your way into Jamie’s pants.”

  “Weasels? You wound me, Claire. Even I’m not that kinky.” I snapped, then yelped when she punched me again as we headed for the door.

  * * *

  Two hours later, I stood next to Cal at the front of the dining room at Za Za’s as we waited for the full staff assembled before us to quiet down. As my glance moved around the room, I felt warmth settle in my chest as Jamie caught my eye and smiled.

  Cal cleared his throat, bringing my attention back to him. His mocha skin was paler than normal, the freckles sprinkled over his cheeks more pronounced along with the dark circles under his eyes. Worry for the man who wasn’t just my boss but the man who’d served as my surrogate father for the last eight years brought back the tension headache I’d tried to subdue earlier.

  “Thank you, everyone, for being here at the last minute. It’s much appreciated.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “I’ve owned Sharpe’s for over thirty years and this is the first time we’ve had to close for an extended time. I know by now you’ve heard the rumors. I called this meeting to clear them up. Just let me say the decisions I’ve made were not made lightly and I had to balance my health with the well-being of all of you. The restaurant is a business but the people who work here as a family are what make it important.”

  I shifted my weight and leaned against the wall next to Cal, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “There’s a large corporation expressing interest in buying this restaurant. I’ve told them I was not interested and have reiterated time and time again I wasn’t looking to sell to a large company. It’s unclear what really went on, and, I don’t really want to speculate. But after consulting with several lawyers, Lassiter Corporation has agreed to settle and has offered to pay a large lump sum. The one caveat is I cannot sue Lassiter Corporation. Ultimately, what I’m telling you today is the end of it all, apart from the police’s own investigation.”

  Anger surged through my system at his words. “That’s total bullshit, Cal.”

  Shouts and protests among the crowd grew until Cal waved his arms and barked, “Settle down, everyone. I’m not finished. You too, Ethan.”

  I forced out a deep breath.

  Cal smiled as he met my eyes. “I signed an agreement saying I wouldn’t press legal action against them. But I may have made a few phone calls to some friends who might be looking into it. Proof may have anonymously been delivered to Seattle PD, as well.”

  I cracked a smile. “You cagey bastard.”

  “There’s a reason I sit in the big chair, Ethan.” He leaned closer to me and lowered his voice so that I was the only one who heard his next words. “One of the stipulations I asked for in the agreement is Reed Jackson’s position be terminated. I’ve heard several charges are pending on his links to illegal activity and business practices. All of which Lassiter Corporation’s heads are denying. From the sound of it, Douglas Lassiter is throwing anyone and everyone under the bus to save his own ass and his company’s image.”

  “Of course. It’d be bad publicity for them if word got out.”

  His expression grew serious. “Now, what I’m about to say might be upsetting. But you have to understand I need to do what’s best for my health and my family, Ethan.”

  He cleared his throat again and when he spoke, his voice cracked with emotion. “It’s with great sadness I’m announcing my retirement. I’m not reopening Sharpe’s on Fifth in the near future, and its current incarnation may never reopen again. There is no way for me to sell the restaurant at this time with pending investigations and legal matters still unsettled and I can’t sell it to you like I’d originally planned.”

  “Cal...” I whispered as I felt my stomach plummet and the last remaining hope at buying Sharpe’s die.

  “Ethan, trust me in this, okay? I’ve never steered you wrong and I refuse to let you buy my lemon of a burnt-out restaurant.”

  He turned back again to the assembled group, his voice louder but still laced with emotion. “I’m sorry to inform you all of this decision like this as you’ve all been like family over the years and I’ve seen you and your families grow. But I have a small severance package to give each of you to tide you over until you can find new positions at other restaurants. If you each come up I’d like to shake each one of your hands and wish you well in person. Thank you.”

  I stepped off to the side and let Cal talk to each and every single employee, shaking their hands numbly as they left. Some looked shocked, some were angry, some were resigned but at least Cal had taken care of them like he’d always taken care of us.

  Tyler’s sad smile as he shook Cal’s hand and watched me over his shoulder when the older man pulled him in for a big hug broke my heart. I’d bust my ass to find him a new job.

  When only Claire and I remained, along with Jamie who hung out in the background, Cal smiled, his eyes watery as he pulled Claire in for a big hug.

  “I’m sorry to let this all go. It’s been an honor to call you my executive and sous chefs for the past eight years. And Ethan. I know this isn’t what we planned originally but this should be enough to get you into a new place.”

  Cal handed us both envelopes before pulling me into my own bear hug. “I look forward to visiting your new place later.”

  I hugged him tightly, fiercely blinking back tears as Cal’s normally gruff voice was filled with tenderness. “I’ve got to go. Stay in touch, you two. I have another checkup again today and Viv’s waiting on me in the car.” He grumbled, “Damn doctors are like vampires. I’m not going to have any blood left at this rate.”

  After he left I just stood there, numb, as I thought about my home away from home for the last eight years.

  “Are you okay?” Jamie wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close.

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  When he finally released his hold on me, I ripped open the envelope and stared at the check inside in shock. Seventy-five thousand dollars.

  “Holy fuck.”

  “Jesus, Ethan. You should have enough to buy a place now.” Claire’s excited voice was loud in my ear as she tugged me close for a hug. “And, no offense, but I refuse to go along with you when you go look because I already know you’ll be too moody to tolerate for long.”

  She let out a yip of surprised pleasure as she showed me hers. “Thirty thousand? Holy shit. Just how much money did your Dad shell out, Jamie?”

  He just smiled serenely and shrugged. “I can be persuasive when I need to be.”

  I glanced down at the check in my hands again. With my loan and savings I might be able to afford a place of my own.

  Jamie bumped my shoulder with his. “I’ll go if you want company. I’m in town a bit longer and I’d love to help you look.” I leaned in closer, wanting to keep that contact with him for as long as I could. Jesus, one afternoon with Cal leaving and I’d turned into a softy. For eight years I’d tried to purge Jamie Lassiter out of my system, but standing next to him like this m
ade it all too clear that would never happen. After the past few months, purging him from my system was the last thing I wanted.

  Claire made vomiting noises as she slipped into her coat.

  “Okay, you two. I’m out of here. I’ve got a check to deposit and a beer with my name on it.”

  “You’re buying, Clairebear.”

  “You’re on.”

  “One sec. I just gotta grab my stuff from the back before we go.”

  “Hurry up, E!”

  As I grabbed the box of stuff I’d salvaged from my office at Sharpe’s, the photo I’d set on top stared back at me. It was the one of me and Jamie I’d hidden in my desk drawer all these years. I ran my finger over the glass and realized it didn’t hurt to look at it anymore. We’d changed so much over the years, but that smile—the one Jamie reserved only for me—had never changed. Regardless of what happened from here on out, there would be no more locked drawers for this photo. I was done locking my past, and my present, feelings away.

  When I walked out into the gray drizzle outside, I couldn’t hide my grin. I wasn’t alone anymore. I had Claire. I had Lassiter for as long as he’d give me. Cal was going to be okay and Tyler would survive his new-guy status at the next place I owned, if he wasn’t snapped up by another chef by the time I got the damn thing bought and opened. That is, as long as he didn’t get another damn hair on my steak between now and then.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Jamie

  “What’s wrong with this one? You could easily gut the kitchen and leave it open to the dining room.”

  The withering look Ethan shot me as he inspected the inside of the oven in the third restaurant space we’d toured with his real estate agent spoke volumes. “This kitchen sucks donkey balls.”

  Marissa, his real estate agent, made no attempt to hide her laugh. “Is he always this picky?”

  I pretended to think about it for a moment. “If I said no, I’d be lying.”

  “I’m picky, but I’m investing my life’s savings in this place. So if I’m going to do it? I don’t want rusted-out equipment. I don’t have another ten grand to drop for a new LP bread oven.” He waved his fingers at me, rust-colored dust covering his fingertips.

  “Good point.”

  “All right, Ethan. We have three more places we can look at today if you’re interested. One is in the U District, one in Belltown, and one in Ballard.”

  He let out a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, sure, Marissa. Thanks. Um, can we have a minute to talk before we head out to the next place?”

  She smiled and nodded, leaving me alone with Ethan in the kitchen.

  He leaned against one of the counters and ran one of his hands through his hair. “I promise I’m not trying to be an ass. I know how I want my own place to look and I’m having trouble wrapping my head around the reality right now.” He paused. “If you need to go, I understand. It’s Thursday and your flight leaves on Saturday. You shouldn’t have to waste the time you have left in Seattle on me just because I can’t find anything I like.”

  I leaned against the counter next to him, softly bumping my shoulder against his.

  “Funny, I don’t consider anything we’ve done today a waste of my time. This is a big deal. You have every right to be picky.”

  Ethan looked at me sheepishly and pushed away from the counter, heading to the double doors to the dining room. “Thanks, but if I turn into a total asshat, you have my permission to punch me.”

  I barked out a laugh as I followed him through the doors. “I haven’t punched you for the other thousand times you’ve been an asshat. Why would I start now?”

  * * *

  Sure you want to do this again? I hear the Mariners are in town.

  The text shouldn’t have surprised me. It was the tenth one Ethan had sent that morning. If he hadn’t just had a spectacularly crapstastic week, I might have replied with some kind of smart-ass comment just to rile him up. Instead I tried to convince him, for the tenth time, I was serious about my offer as I rounded the corner. His apartment was just up the block.

  8 years hasn’t made me like baseball any more than I did when we were in school. I’ll be waiting in the lobby.

  A few minutes later, my phone chimed again.

  Sorry about having to work at Via Trattoria this week. I feel like I’m taking advantage of your time.

  I resisted the urge for snark again as I typed out my reply.

  I’m glad you’re helping Chancellor out, but I’m fine. It’s been nice to be home again. Almost. Btw, I’m still waiting in the lobby. I know you love to primp, but can you hurry your ass up?

  An hour and a half later, my phone chimed again.

  This place sucks ass. Think Marissa will get pissed if I pass on another one?

  Your money. You shouldn’t settle. Btw, why are you texting me instead of just telling me this?

  Marissa is giving me the evil eye. I didn’t want to get bitch slapped by taking you off to whisper about this shit. Again.

  I snorted and shoved my phone back in my pocket, dragging Ethan past a thoroughly confused Marissa. “Yeah. No, Marissa. You said there was another one in Ballard?”

  * * *

  My last few hours in Seattle had been spent in the back of Marissa’s car as we went to one last property she wanted Ethan to look at. My flight wasn’t until late afternoon, and I would have been lying if I had said spending my last few hours with Ethan before I headed back to New York was the last thing on my list of things to do.

  We were taking whatever this was between us slowly. He’d been helping cover for a friend who was home with his wife and a new baby, leaving me my evenings free to quietly enjoy the sights around Seattle I’d been away from for too long. The downtime had been just what I needed. My mind had finally been able to relax enough to begin toying with ideas for new recipes and dishes. Trevor had returned from his side trip more rested and centered than I’d seen him lately. Things had been more than a little rocky both personally and professionally, so we decided to push aside the recent events and went out to a nice dinner to celebrate my father actually doing the right thing by settling with Cal for the damage to his restaurant. It had been a nice evening, but it would take some time for us to get back the easy friendship we’d had before all this happened.

  My days, on the other hand, had been spent either touring property all wrong for Ethan’s ideal image of what he wanted for his new restaurant, or in the back of Marissa’s car, which smelled like wet cat and potpourri. I wasn’t sure who was more frustrated, Ethan or Marissa, at not being able to find the perfect space. Either way, the hunt to find it had been an eye-opening and sobering experience for me and everything I had given up when I left the kitchen and stepped in front of the cameras.

  I heard Ethan’s small intake of breath the moment we stepped through the front door. I didn’t even have to look at him to know what he was thinking. The last stop of the day was a restaurant that had sat vacant for over a year. Marissa told us on the drive over that the owner hadn’t been that motivated to sell until recently. She wouldn’t tell us the reason why he was motivated now, but the fact it hadn’t sold in over a year made both me and Ethan nervous. However, all those nerves fled the minute my eyes took in the interior of the building.

  It was light and airy with a rustic feel. A mahogany-paneled bar sat against the back wall, with tall dark pillars breaking up the long, rectangular space. There were ceiling fans scattered around the beautifully paneled ceiling, giving it a cafe feel, rather than a stuffy, closed in restaurant vibe. The front of the restaurant was lined with floor to ceiling windows, perfect for allowing the sun to shine through on days when the Seattle weather cooperated. It was cozy without being cramped and trendy enough with the sable and deep blue window treatments to perfectly match Ethan’s inventi
ve style of cooking.

  One look at Ethan told me we had found The One. Marissa stood back and let him take it all in, smiling at his reaction. After a few minutes of silence, Ethan tore his eyes away from the solid wood bar and looked at me. “It’s perfect. It’s exactly how I imagined it.”

  I smiled sadly, nodding in agreement. It was perfect—an almost perfect replica of what we had dreamed up for Bistro 30, the restaurant we’d imagined all those years ago when we were young and ready to take on the world.

  Ethan began to bombard Marissa with questions about the latest building inspections while I wandered around, taking it all in. I jumped when a hand rested on my shoulder and squeezed lightly. When I turned around, Ethan’s brilliant green eyes shone with excitement. “What do you think?”

  The urge to wrap him in my arms almost overwhelmed me. Instead I ran my hand over the surface of the beautiful mahogany bar and smiled.

  “It’s perfect, Ethan. I think Marissa must have wanted more time with your sparkling personality because she certainly saved the best for last.”

  Ethan looked around, his body practically thrumming with nervous energy, and snorted. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Lassiter.”

  He turned back to me, his expression more serious and earnest. “Marissa thinks we can get the owner down a few thousand, but even if she doesn’t, I want it. I want it almost more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

  The selfish part of me wanted to be the reason for the “almost.” We had come so far from where we were just months ago, but were still so far away from being comfortable with each other again. The rational side of me knew we were only just beginning and I couldn’t expect us to pick up where we left off when I’d boarded the plane to Paris. But there was a small fatalistic side of me who wondered what would happen to us once I boarded a plane that would take me away from him again.

  As if on cue, my phone rang. One quick look at the caller ID told me my time in Seattle had run out.

 

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