Lexi frowned. “I’ve met him before.”
Miranda nodded. “He’s been to the kitchen to check on the progress during construction. Maybe that’s where you met.”
“No. I’ve only met him once and it wasn't at Dream Kitchen.”
“Where then?” Miranda frowned.
Lexi clamped a hand over her mouth as she remembered. She looked at Miranda apologetically. “Don’t be angry, okay? Remember when I called in sick with a stomach bug?”
Miranda nodded. That was the day she went to see Wolfe in his office and he’d come up with his bizarre proposal.
“I wasn’t really sick. I was drunk. I swear to god, I was on my way to the office. Then I found him—Simms—in my driveway. He said his car broke down and asked if he could use my phone. I said sure and we got to talking. He was so upbeat, I couldn’t help but like him. Then he suggested we go to a bar. Yeah, I know…. it was like 9 a.m. But we went anyway.”
“And…?” Miranda prompted. This was a side to Lexi she’d never imagined.
“So...we had a few drinks. He started flirting. He seemed really into me, asking where I worked and all of that stuff. When I mentioned ‘Noelle’s, he said he’d been there before and really loved the food. I talked about you and how great you are in the kitchen. He wondered if you had plans of putting up another restaurant. I ended up telling him about the catering business. You won’t believe it, but he knew the area. I mentioned Mr. Thompson, and he said he knew the old guy.”
Wolfe never mentioned anything about this to her... then again, Simms wouldn’t exactly tell his boss that he was flirting with girls on company time. Miranda shook her head. She’d always pegged Simms as the responsible type. “Go on.”
Lexi sighed. “That’s it. I totally expected him to call me after he brought me back to the apartment. But he never did. But you want to know the really weird thing? He said his car broke down but we used his car to go to the bar then drove back again to my apartment.”
“So he didn’t really have a breakdown?”
Lexi nodded. “At the time, I thought he wanted to ask me out but was too shy to do it without an excuse. But when he didn’t call...” She broke off.
Miranda looked up to see the Dream Kitchen’s crew entering the room. “We’ll talk about this later.”
She wanted to make sure the boxes were set out in an orderly fashion. Otherwise, they risked losing things in the chaos. But everywhere she turned, Bruce Simpson was underfoot. Miranda ground her teeth. Can’t he see he’s making a nuisance of himself to the working crew?
“Ah, the master chef at work.” Miranda looked up to see Diane Simpson walking toward her.
Miranda was relieved. With any luck, Diane would take Bruce away from the room with her. “Would you like a sneak peek at the art?”
Diane clapped her hands together. “I would be delighted.”
Miranda signaled a crew to bring over a cambro containing her hors d'oeuvres masterpieces. She beamed, feeling like a magician as she whisked the cover away.
Diane gasped.
Bruce’s face turned an angry red. “What in the world is that?”
Miranda stared at him in confusion, and then looked down at the dish. She couldn’t suppress a cry of dismay. The appetizers looked strange. Instead of sitting prettily on golden brown dough baked to perfection, the crust had turned a pasty anemic shade.
“Is that how it's supposed to look?” Diane asked hesitantly, staring at Miranda’s horrified expression.
“No,” Miranda cried. She signaled for another cambro to be brought over, tearing the cover away anxiously.
It was the same as the other. The atmosphere inside the small room turned into one of agitation as the crew, aware that something had gone wrong, made a mad rush to uncover the rest of the boxes.
It was all the same. Nothing looked the way it had back in the kitchen. It was like a curse had befallen every single dish they prepared.
Miranda blanched as panic enveloped her. She looked to her assistant.
Lexi stood white-faced with mouth wide open. “But everything was fine when they came out of the ovens!”
Miranda turned to Diane. The woman was stricken, staring at her with a helpless expression. “Diane, I don’t know how this happened. I swear, I double-checked everything. The food was fine before we left the restaurant.”
“I knew it.” Bruce slammed his hand down on a table, making everyone jump. “I told you not to trust someone without experience. But you insisted on giving her a chance. This is an important event. We can’t serve our guests that-that garbage!” Bruce raved.
Miranda was shaking like a leaf. She had to think fast. “I’ll go back to the kitchen—”
“And do what?” Bruce bellowed. “Are you trying to sabotage this event? You think we can keep the guests waiting till you came up with a replacement? There are important people out there expecting to be served culinary dishes.” Froth flew from his mouth as he yelled orders at Miranda’s crew. “Take this disgusting fare away before someone walks in and thinks my wife is trying to poison them.”
Diane stared in shock. “Bruce!”
Miranda felt tears pricking her eyes. How could this have gone so wrong? “Diane, I’m sorry. I don't know how all this hap—”
Bruce sneered, talking over her loudly. “I’ll take care of it.”
“How?” Diane asked
“I know another catering service and they owe me a favor. I’m on their VIP list. They’ll deliver if I ask them to.” He placed an arm around her shoulder. “Don't you worry, honey. I’ll make sure this event is still a success despite this—this tragedy.” He steered her toward the door.
Diane looked dismayed as she left the room.
Miranda was rooted to the spot. Her limbs felt heavy, as if she’d been turned to stone. Her shock was absolute.
“You.” Bruce pointed his finger at the crew who stood there paralyzed along with their boss. “What are you all waiting for? Clean this place up before the new caterers arrive!”
Miranda felt like she was trapped in the reel of a moving picture set to slow motion. The commotion in the room had turned into a weird vibration that was almost as deafening as it was slow. She stood, watching in silence, as her crew removed all traces of their labor.
“Miranda!” Lexi took her by her arm.
She didn’t know how long she stood there, in anticipation of the blow that would surely send her reeling. Right now, all she felt was numbness blanketing her entire body.
“Let’s go.” Lexi steered her gently toward the door.
They headed out the back entrance. Despite the numbness she felt, the irony wasn’t lost on Miranda. She arrived at the Guggenheim expecting to conquer, yet here she was, slinking away like a thief in the night.
“Wait!”
They’d almost reached the sidewalk. Miranda turned and saw Wolfe running after them.
His sudden appearance was the catalyst that broke the dam of emotions Miranda desperately wanted to hold back. She slumped against the wall as her knees gave way. Her breathing became labored as her heart constricted in pain.
Wolfe slowed as he approached, taking in Miranda’s appearance. His face plainly showed his concern. “What happened back there?”
Miranda couldn’t speak. A strange sensation overcame her. Ordinarily, in the midst of extreme agitation, a familiar face alleviated a volatile state. For Miranda, the stress of maintaining the deception that was their relationship fused with the failure of the catering event. Rage filled her. “You!” she hissed. “This is all your fault!”
Wolfe flinched. “How could this be possibly my fault?”
“I told you I wasn’t ready, didn’t I? I wanted to start small. But you insisted I do this knowing fully well that I could fail.” Miranda’s voice shook. “Food knows! Food knows if you’re not honest—”
“No, Miranda. Stop.” Lexi cut in. “You’re acting crazy.” She turned to Wolfe. “Please, let’s not talk about this rig
ht now.”
“Calm down.” Wolfe took Miranda’s arm. “Here, let me take you home.”
His condescension fueled Miranda’s rage even further. “No!” She shoved him violently. “You leave me alone.”
Wolfe stared at her.
Miranda was equally shocked at her own reaction. She was overwhelmed by a strong desire to flee—and an equally strong desire to throw herself at his feet. On unsteady legs she whirled around, plunging into the street. She narrowly avoided colliding with pedestrians, the one thought in her mind being escape.
“Miranda!” A hand snaked through her arm. Wheeling round, she came face to face with Lexi. Her assistant squeezed her arm. “I got you.”
“W-wolfe?”
Lexi raised her hand, hailing a passing cab. “Back at the Guggenheim. He won’t follow us.” A cab pulled up, and she helped her shaking boss into it. “Let’s go home.” She started giving the driver her address.
“No!” Miranda took a deep breath. “Take us to Dream Kitchen.”
***
Hours later, Miranda stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Dousing her face with cold water had calmed her, but that was all it had done. Her eyes were red from crying. Her hair was a mess and she looked defeated. She’d hoped that returning to Dream Kitchen would provide an explanation for what had happened, but being surrounded by the kitchen she’d fought so hard for had triggered another bout of crying.
A sound from outside reminded her that Lexi must be waiting for her. Miranda turned away with a sigh. She much preferred to be alone, but Lexi was just as disappointed as she was, and she couldn’t make the woman worry any more.
As she stepped inside her office, she saw Lexi had a glass of wine waiting for her. “I know you’re upset. We all are. But it's done. There’s nothing more we can do. So stop blaming yourself. Shit happens.”
Miranda took the glass of wine. “What did we do wrong? I was so careful. We all were. And you saw how every recipe came out perfectly. What the fuck happened?”
Lexi shook her head, pouring herself a glass of wine. “I wish I knew. But I don’t. We just need to salvage what we can from all this and hope it doesn't happen again.”
Miranda’s shoulders slumped. “Diane must hate me. She’ll never talk to me again. Bruce was right. She’ll think I tried to sabotage her party.”
Lexi looked up. “I don’t think Diane is your biggest problem right now.”
“What do you mean?” Miranda eyed her assistant.
“Wolfe? You practically blamed him for this mess and almost threw him against the wall.”
Miranda’s eyes grew wide with alarm and her cheeks turned red as she remembered her outburst. “Shit! I was so upset, I just lashed out! I have to call him, tell him I didn’t mean what I said.”
“Yeah, you should but not tonight. They’re probably still at the party. Wait until you’ve had time to clear your head. Bring him something nice. Go down on your knees...give him a blowjob...I don’t know.” Lexi’s eyes glittered wickedly.
Miranda knew this was her assistant’s attempt at making her feel better. “Yeah, I probably need to do all that.”
Lexi invited her to spend the night at her apartment, and Miranda eagerly accepted. She was too embarrassed to face Wolfe tonight. But she knew just what to do. She’d cook him his favorite omelet, and bring it to his office first thing in the morning. As she sipped the wine, listening to Lexi talk, her thoughts wandered back to Wolfe. Can he possibly forgive me for everything? The botched food, messing up his mother’s party... But most of all, could he forgive her pushing him away?
***
Miranda stepped into Wolfe’s office with a feeling of trepidation.
His secretary, Jenna, looked up in surprise. She immediately rose to greet her boss’ fiancée. “Good morning, Miss Miranda.”
Miranda smiled, fighting the urge to smooth her skirt. Jenna always made her feel under-dressed and over-dressed at the same time. “Hi. I hope I’m not too early. Wolfe doesn’t know I’m coming. Is he already in the building?”
“Yes, he is, but I’m afraid he’s not in his office. Mr. Hawkins got called to an emergency meeting. Would you like me to inform him that you’re here?”
“No, please don’t. I just came over to give him this,” Miranda indicated the covered dish in her hand.
Jenna looked unsure what to do next. “Would you like to leave it in the kitchen?”
Miranda shook her head. “Do you think he’d mind if I waited inside his office? I really need to talk to him.”
“Of course.” Jenna led the way. “Let me show you in.”
This was only Miranda’s third visit to Wolfe’s office. With the sunlight streaming in through the huge windows, everything looked bright and cheery. She headed directly to Wolfe’s desk, depositing the dish on the table. This was her peace offering for being such an idiot last night. She wanted him to see it the moment he arrived.
She sat down gingerly on the leather swivel chair. Trying to get rid of the sick feeling in her stomach, she imagined Wolfe seated on it with his arms wrapped around her. If all goes well, maybe... She rose from the chair, glancing at the windows. She was curious to see the panorama from his side of the building. It had to be awesome.
“Ow!” she cried in sudden pain as she stubbed her toes against the lowest drawer of the table. The drawer had been left open.
She bent down to push it back in place. That was when she noticed the uppermost file inside. It had her name written on the upper right-hand corner.
What would a file with my name be doing in Wolfe’s office?
Her conscience issued a warning. Going through his drawers was a huge invasion of privacy. She should just ask about the file later. But compelled by a curiosity greater than she was, Miranda couldn’t help reaching for the file. Information about me? She frowned at the first page. It was all seemingly innocent information: name, address, telephone number, place of work. Why would he need to have a file for this?
As she flipped to the next page, her blood chilled in her veins. It was her medical records including the address of the clinic where she had an abortion. Miranda’s heart thumped as she read a doctor’s psychological diagnosis. “Safe to assume the patient had been emotionally and physically abused by a close friend or family member leading to the unwanted pregnancy... Suggest pursuing treatment for the identification and management of chronic, post-traumatic responses similar to PTSD.”
She couldn’t stop reading, moving on to the next pages. She saw news clippings of her arrest and deportation, even a copy of her mug shot taken inside the deportation office where she was handcuffed and interrogated. A painful reminder of the past. Miranda felt weak. It was her life laid bare for anyone to see. It was all there in the file.
The very last page was a detailed report of a very familiar story—the same story she heard from Lexi only last night. Miranda read the report grimly. Lexi was right. There had been no breakdown. The report included information about Mr. Thompson, the owner of the building, and the offer made to buy it from him. The report ended with the author’s signature. Simms.
Her body shook uncontrollably. Her jumbled thoughts started to line up in a manner that made too much sense. Simms prepared this file. And Simms only acted upon Wolfe’s command. Of that she was certain.
Wolfe knew everything there was to know about her. But he’d hidden his knowledge. Why?
Then a thought struck her. It was so incredible she didn’t believe it was plausible. But as she stared down at the file on her lap, Miranda realized that nothing was implausible now. She grabbed her cell phone and dialed Mr. Thompson’s number.
The old man picked up on the second ring. “Miranda, it's so nice of you to call.”
“Mr. Thompson, I need some information. You mentioned there was an offer from someone to buy your property? Do you remember who made the offer?” Miranda’s chest squeezed tight as she waited for Mr. Thompson’s reply
“I only spoke to
a man called...let me see...Sam? Simms? Oh, yes, that's the name. He said he represented a huge pharmaceutical company.”
Miranda’s fingers tightened around her phone. “Do you remember exactly when Simms made the offer?”
“I think it was the day you found a guarantor. Honestly, I thought you were just pulling my leg to give you more time. But you came back with a check, so I guess I was wrong.”
Everything clicked into place. Miranda murmured a goodbye and ended the call. She sat in Wolfe’s chair. Everything she thought she knew was now crashing down all around her.
Wolfe made the offer to buy because he wanted her desperate. He’d forced her to accept his proposal. He knew how badly she’d wanted the building — she’d told him that when she’d approached him about the loan! And Wolfe had used that knowledge to his own advantage.
Fake Marriage with the CEO (A Billionaire Romance) Page 11